The door swayed ever so lightly and faint light slithered noiselessly inside. The movement brought a fresh draft of air into the room and I opened my eyes just in time to catch the familiar retreating figure of the help. I gave attention to her only long enough to think ‘I will ask for water the next time she peeks inside’ and was about to close my eyes when something else caught my attention. Someone was behind the door, almost motionless like a shadow. Whoever it was, caught the swaying door before it could snap shut. But the shadow did not advance.
I was, by then, used to having the help check up on me to make sure I was comfortable, which I was far from, though of course she didn't need to know that. But that shadow was an addition to the familiar mind-numbing routine.
Even in the gloom there was no mistaking the shadow. If my thoughts had a voice it would have yelled in joy. If my heart was not already erratic it would have stuttered from the ecstasy. She stood in the doorway studying the room. And from what I could see of her expression I imagined that she was hesitant to enter. I raised my right arm ever so slightly to motion her inside. She was still undecided so I left my hand hover for a few seconds (with every effort that I could garner) to make her understand that I wanted her to come near. The image of the unacknowledged raised hand brought back into memory another vivid one, though then the roles were reversed and I was the one who was hesitant to take the hand. I wondered if she remembered that time from long ago. She left the door half parted and walked in slowly and deliberately ignoring my raised arm, came to stand by my other side. She was close enough now for me to see her properly. Time had had no influence over her. She looked exactly like from my memory.
"Hi" I tried to say and was surprised to hear how cracked and hoarse my voice was. I definitely needed some water.
She was watching me intently, with something besides worry in her expression. Her eyes roved everywhere about me, about the room too but not quite meeting my gaze. I had no mind for anyone, anything. Had the room been suffocating-ly full with people and their talks, I wouldn’t have noticed at that point, and that wouldn’t have surprised me.
She slowly asked "Couldn’t you have at least watched where you were going?" Like always, I was surprised by her choice of that as the first question. Everyone who saw me would be either empathetic or patronizing or easily repulsed. But no one would dare to have put such a question to me, at least not on face and definitely not then. But I had to give it to her to ask the weirdest of questions at the weirdest of times.
Apart from the surprise my mind also lingered on the tone of the voice. The voice held the same magic I was so used to. It had the same lilting quality that had appealed to me, and it made my thoughts flutter. But right then it was tainted with just a bit of exasperation.
A weak chuckle escaped my lips. And that was when she finally looked at me, in the eye. Innocent, questioning, soul searching look was what I remembered most of her eyes. But the eyes that looked at me from behind the swollen lids appeared weary and tired, with barely any hint of the former naughtiness or warmth.
Had she been crying, I wanted to ask. But the way our eyes connected I completely forgot about it. She tilted her head to the left smiled ever so lightly at me, and I could see some of the warmth creep back into her eyes again. She started at me for a long moment her face full of question and the anticipated nervousness at the answers I might provide. I wondered again if she was recalling the ancient grief of our last meeting.
I tried to shrug, an unadvisable thing to do, for the spasm of pain took me over. I concentrated hard not to wince, not to betray my weakness in front of her. I had to act, as I have always had to when around her. She was not one to be fooled and her eyes rarely missed the insignificants as she diverted her attention again to the state of me. Wherever her eyes touched my body it was like a warm caress and momentarily I could not remember any burning agony.
I could see tears forming at the corners of her eyes though she fought hard to swallow it. As always I tried to ease the hurt she felt because of me. I attempted to talk, but my voice was barely a grunt from want of water. I mumbled, "You look the same. You haven’t changed at all".
I heard her sigh and a genuine smile spread across her face.
I took heart and asked her "How are you?" I instantly regretted the emotion that crept into the simple question. She replied very softly "In a lot of trouble" with a small smile. I needn’t have to ask any further for what she meant by that. Again, I was sorry she was troubled on account of me. I sighed and I was once again over-powered by my want of water. Ignoring that I searched around for what to say next, to make her comfortable, but she did not seem to find my silence disturbing. Rather she sat there as a warm comfort to me, with her fingers entwined in my left hand.
I relaxed at the touch and just lay there almost as still as my body would let me when many pains and flashes of memories and anger and dejection and regret washed over me. It was like yesterday when we…
I felt, rather thought, the hair brushed back from my face with the gentlest of a touch and felt a warm pressure on my forehead. Slowly I opened to my eyes to see.
Someone was behind the door almost motionless like a shadow. Whoever it was, caught the swaying door before it could snap shut. But the shadow did not advance.
But the familiar scene from moments ago (was it just moments?) was blaringly different.
She was not coming for me. She was retreating from me. The lingering warmth of the soft pressure on the forehead and the tingling at the point of the contact were the only real thing. I wanted to cry. I wanted to call her back. I couldn’t find my voice. I wanted something for my thirst. What was that?
I don’t remember what. I just couldn’t care more.
I turned my head to glance back at the place where she had sat and tried to imagine her there again. To find comfort in the seconds that made me peaceful, albeit momentarily! There in the chair she had sat, within my reach, was a warm sterile bottle of drinking water.
I hated the sight of it.
But how can I hate something for which I crave the most? Can I?
Showing posts with label Tell tale. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tell tale. Show all posts
Monday, March 21, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Peaceful room make a nice home!
I don’t remember when I first heard this story. High chance is it was entirely made up by Dad, or I must have chanced upon it during the weird ‘Moral Science’ classes during my junior school. Either ways this story has stuck in my mind. For reasons unknown I remembered this story few days back (and why I will let you know at the end, though it is pretty simple to understand the why). Since then I have been trying to recollect how the story originally went, which by the life of me, I can’t remember. So, here’s the retelling of that fable in my own words, though certain aspects like the “contents in the room” are still true to the original teller’s version. What the “contents” and “what’s in the room” are something you have read further to know. So here goes,
Once upon a time, when being featured in stories that have morals were in vogue, there lived a wise man. That man, hailing from a noble family, started his life with just a few personal belongings as his own. With steady and unyielding hard work he was able to amaze certain amount of wealth. When he was of age, he married a fair maiden and fathered three sons. The sons grew up to be strong and handsome men. They were never tired of work and respected and love their old man. The sons took up to their own interest of business and excelled in them. The old man and his wife were content and proud that they taught their sons well. They valued money but were not misers. They were proud but not vain. They were gallant but were never a crook.
As days went by the old man’s health started to fail. He expressed interest to retire from his business and settle down to enjoy the reminder of his life peacefully. The sons offered to build a house for the old man in the most serene spot in the village. They argued and argued some more before they finalized on their location, their design and everything to do with the ‘old house’ as they fondly referred to it. Their arguments and banters did not bother the old man as he sat watching them bicker good-naturedly. He was exceptionally happy that the sons, who generally got along very well with each other, would fight to agree on choices that each one thought their father would love best.
He looked across at the room to the place where his wife sat cutting vegetables clearly enjoying her sons antics, for there had broken an argument again which the old man was confident had something to do with the house. She looked up to see her husband beckoning her to him and she went and dutifully sat down besides his arm chair. After few peaceful minutes have passed and when their sons departed to do their daily chores, she looked up to her husband and said, “Dear, if you will permit me, I need to confide in you a situation that’s been troubling me for quiet sometime” to which the husband was all willing to acquiesce. Then she said, “Forgive me for bothering you with a woman’s instincts and petty issues. I bring this up under the delusion that what I have to tell you is important. I request you to, thereby, hear me, and if you are confident that it’s a minor thing and if you promise that it is nothing but normal, I will be the most glad woman in the world, for I cannot permit harm of any kind to cause unhappiness to my family” and so she continued, “ I have been noticing our sons pretty closely, from the day they were born, and even more so, when they started with their own business establishments. But lately they seem to be burdened by some ideas, that which looks like something that they are not able to express, nor are they willing to do so. Initially, I dismissed my disquiet over this, under the belief that they are some silly ideas and troubles given their adolescent age. I’m fine with them doing about their duty, but it depresses me to see them worry”. After hearing attentively to what his wife had to say, the old man enquired if she was sure that their sons were laboring worries and not being tired after a hard day’s work, his wife affirmed that “I’m as confident as a mother would be confident”. That set the old man thinking, and he had to make sure that it was really worries that were eating their sons, he cast an watchful eyes over them in the evening. At night fall, after observing his sons, he mentally agreed to what his wife had told him. Their sons did seem to be burdened with thoughts and worries.
By day break next morning, the old man roused up his sons and asked them to take him to the ‘old house’. So the sons and the old man set about to the house near the hill. The father was silent all through the journey and when he reached the destination, he gathered about his sons around him and said in a voice of superior sincerity and affection, “Boys! Your mother and I have been noticing you lads for quiet sometime and have come to understand there are some things that causes bother to your peaceful mind.” At this the sons in unison shook their heads and said that it was nothing big to cause concern, as they were nothing more than the growing up pangs and mundane issues. This comforted the old man and he said, “Be they as it may, I have decided to give you lads a practical test and make you realize the importance of peaceful unburdened mind. So here is what I want of you today. I want you all to take in-charge of one single room each in this beautiful house and fill it up to the extent possible with things that you can get off for the money I‘m giving you. I will give the whole afternoon to make arrangements and I would come to inspect by day fall by which time things should be in order.” So said the old man and he settled down in the spare room on the far left.
The eldest son went about thinking what he can get for the given money that would fill the whole room to the full. And an idea struck him as suddenly as it came and rejoiced in the brilliancy of the plan and ran out of the house to the stores before casting a wary look on his fellow competitors who were still in thoughts. The second brother soon set off to the town to buy things that his money will permit and was soon followed by the youngest one. All through the day the boys went in and out of the house, entering with bulging sacks and exiting with deflated ones. After numerous attempts each seemed to shut himself in their rooms and a whole lot of scrapping and banging were heard.
Finally it was time for the father to step out of his room and when he did so he saw all his sons sweating and panting and were visibly tired. He went over to the eldest and they all quietly walked over to the room he was trying to fill. The son, before entering explained, “Firstly I brooded on what to do. The requirement is clear. Fill the room to the extent possible. So I thought how can I fill a room this huge with the amount of money I have been given. So I need to get the thing that is cheap, isn’t it? So I asked myself, what is cheap and also can be bought in loads of quantity. So he decided to go with the haystack and so I have filled the room till the last straw I can get with the money”. So saying he opened the door to the room, and out came rushing a heap of straws. The old man peeped beyond the doors and asked “What about the windows” to which the son proudly replied, “Not to worry for I have closed them and used up that space too”. The old man without uttering a single word, moved past the first room until he reached the son the second son has been trying to fill. The second eldest brother also launched a story of how he worked out all by himself that he needed to get the cheap thing in huge quantity with the small amount of money he had and had finally settled on “Wood scraps” he proclaimed proudly. He had filled the room to such an extent that he had been unable to close the doors and beyond that one can see a huge heap of wood dust fill the room. Again, without saying a word the old man and the party stopped in front of the youngest brother’s room. The smallest brother did not as much say a word but gently opened the room and it was filled with bricks high up to the ceiling. The old man walked slowly and sat down on the tallest step descending down from the house to the grounds below. The sons, bewildered and ashamed at the possibility that they have disappointed their father, went and sat down at the foot of the old man and stared at the village below which was bathed in the beautiful glowing moonlight. A soft wind rustled their hair and their clothes gently fluttered about them. The night birds and crickets were all chirping their noisy farewell to a wonderful day and thanking the miracle of life and sending their praise up-to the heaven.
The old man sat there serenely enjoying the moment and the brothers all sat there absorbed in their own thoughts. Then slowly the old man asked, “Can any of your rooms be now used for any other purpose, for any better pursuits” to which the boys replied by shaking their heads. The old man raised each of son’s hands and placed them on his gnarled and aged knee and spoke as he gently caressed them. He said soothingly, “My dear boys, what you all have done tonight both amazes me and depresses me at the same time. I’m proud that my sons accomplished the task that was set forth to them by their father without ever doubting or questioning the need or motive. And I must agree that have you done exactly as I have asked you to. Yet you all seem somehow disturbed and troubled. Before we retire for the day, I shall ask you to look at the events of today in a different light. Regard the room as your mind or soul. If you have been loading your mind with worry and uninteresting and unfruitful thoughts, how do you imagine your state of mind would be? Agitated or peaceful? The contents of the eldest’s room spilled over the moment someone tried to access it. The middle one’s room did not seem to be able to hold the contents in for it was unable to properly close. The youngest one’s did not seem to have a spare space for even a speck of additional dust. Do you want your minds to be so clogged in the way the rooms are now?” That set the boys thinking. The old man then asked the boys to move in to the room he had been occupying. The boys entered the room and felt at home instantly. The room was huge and was decorated artfully. The windows were thrown wide open which filled the room with the scents of the night, warm breeze and the tunes of the crickets. The room was minimally furnished to hold only the necessary. The walls were clean and perfect. Overall the effect was pleasant and pleasing. The old man pointed out, “This now can make you boys appreciate the difference between this room and other rooms you all toiled hard to fill. You can draw parallel to the rooms and human mind. As long as you keep the doors closed and windows shut and you keep pilling all your thoughts and worries it will show on your being in the same way as to the rooms that spilled its content over on approach. But as long as you keep the mind open like the door and the heart open like the windows, the worries and vile thoughts will stay at bay. Talk to wise people, amaze knowledge, let go of things that which are beyond your control to change, if things don’t go your way humbly accept them without regret, forget the hurts and the praises alike, learn to smile. So I urge you to throw away the clutter and the rot, retain the wonderful moments of the past and make space for new memories to cherish”. That seemed to brighten the sons and they walked back home as wiser men.
Need I say anything more? My mind was like the cluttered room. I’m not saying my mind is like the serene room the old man decorated but I’m trying to have the windows and doors open.
Once upon a time, when being featured in stories that have morals were in vogue, there lived a wise man. That man, hailing from a noble family, started his life with just a few personal belongings as his own. With steady and unyielding hard work he was able to amaze certain amount of wealth. When he was of age, he married a fair maiden and fathered three sons. The sons grew up to be strong and handsome men. They were never tired of work and respected and love their old man. The sons took up to their own interest of business and excelled in them. The old man and his wife were content and proud that they taught their sons well. They valued money but were not misers. They were proud but not vain. They were gallant but were never a crook.
As days went by the old man’s health started to fail. He expressed interest to retire from his business and settle down to enjoy the reminder of his life peacefully. The sons offered to build a house for the old man in the most serene spot in the village. They argued and argued some more before they finalized on their location, their design and everything to do with the ‘old house’ as they fondly referred to it. Their arguments and banters did not bother the old man as he sat watching them bicker good-naturedly. He was exceptionally happy that the sons, who generally got along very well with each other, would fight to agree on choices that each one thought their father would love best.
He looked across at the room to the place where his wife sat cutting vegetables clearly enjoying her sons antics, for there had broken an argument again which the old man was confident had something to do with the house. She looked up to see her husband beckoning her to him and she went and dutifully sat down besides his arm chair. After few peaceful minutes have passed and when their sons departed to do their daily chores, she looked up to her husband and said, “Dear, if you will permit me, I need to confide in you a situation that’s been troubling me for quiet sometime” to which the husband was all willing to acquiesce. Then she said, “Forgive me for bothering you with a woman’s instincts and petty issues. I bring this up under the delusion that what I have to tell you is important. I request you to, thereby, hear me, and if you are confident that it’s a minor thing and if you promise that it is nothing but normal, I will be the most glad woman in the world, for I cannot permit harm of any kind to cause unhappiness to my family” and so she continued, “ I have been noticing our sons pretty closely, from the day they were born, and even more so, when they started with their own business establishments. But lately they seem to be burdened by some ideas, that which looks like something that they are not able to express, nor are they willing to do so. Initially, I dismissed my disquiet over this, under the belief that they are some silly ideas and troubles given their adolescent age. I’m fine with them doing about their duty, but it depresses me to see them worry”. After hearing attentively to what his wife had to say, the old man enquired if she was sure that their sons were laboring worries and not being tired after a hard day’s work, his wife affirmed that “I’m as confident as a mother would be confident”. That set the old man thinking, and he had to make sure that it was really worries that were eating their sons, he cast an watchful eyes over them in the evening. At night fall, after observing his sons, he mentally agreed to what his wife had told him. Their sons did seem to be burdened with thoughts and worries.
By day break next morning, the old man roused up his sons and asked them to take him to the ‘old house’. So the sons and the old man set about to the house near the hill. The father was silent all through the journey and when he reached the destination, he gathered about his sons around him and said in a voice of superior sincerity and affection, “Boys! Your mother and I have been noticing you lads for quiet sometime and have come to understand there are some things that causes bother to your peaceful mind.” At this the sons in unison shook their heads and said that it was nothing big to cause concern, as they were nothing more than the growing up pangs and mundane issues. This comforted the old man and he said, “Be they as it may, I have decided to give you lads a practical test and make you realize the importance of peaceful unburdened mind. So here is what I want of you today. I want you all to take in-charge of one single room each in this beautiful house and fill it up to the extent possible with things that you can get off for the money I‘m giving you. I will give the whole afternoon to make arrangements and I would come to inspect by day fall by which time things should be in order.” So said the old man and he settled down in the spare room on the far left.
The eldest son went about thinking what he can get for the given money that would fill the whole room to the full. And an idea struck him as suddenly as it came and rejoiced in the brilliancy of the plan and ran out of the house to the stores before casting a wary look on his fellow competitors who were still in thoughts. The second brother soon set off to the town to buy things that his money will permit and was soon followed by the youngest one. All through the day the boys went in and out of the house, entering with bulging sacks and exiting with deflated ones. After numerous attempts each seemed to shut himself in their rooms and a whole lot of scrapping and banging were heard.
Finally it was time for the father to step out of his room and when he did so he saw all his sons sweating and panting and were visibly tired. He went over to the eldest and they all quietly walked over to the room he was trying to fill. The son, before entering explained, “Firstly I brooded on what to do. The requirement is clear. Fill the room to the extent possible. So I thought how can I fill a room this huge with the amount of money I have been given. So I need to get the thing that is cheap, isn’t it? So I asked myself, what is cheap and also can be bought in loads of quantity. So he decided to go with the haystack and so I have filled the room till the last straw I can get with the money”. So saying he opened the door to the room, and out came rushing a heap of straws. The old man peeped beyond the doors and asked “What about the windows” to which the son proudly replied, “Not to worry for I have closed them and used up that space too”. The old man without uttering a single word, moved past the first room until he reached the son the second son has been trying to fill. The second eldest brother also launched a story of how he worked out all by himself that he needed to get the cheap thing in huge quantity with the small amount of money he had and had finally settled on “Wood scraps” he proclaimed proudly. He had filled the room to such an extent that he had been unable to close the doors and beyond that one can see a huge heap of wood dust fill the room. Again, without saying a word the old man and the party stopped in front of the youngest brother’s room. The smallest brother did not as much say a word but gently opened the room and it was filled with bricks high up to the ceiling. The old man walked slowly and sat down on the tallest step descending down from the house to the grounds below. The sons, bewildered and ashamed at the possibility that they have disappointed their father, went and sat down at the foot of the old man and stared at the village below which was bathed in the beautiful glowing moonlight. A soft wind rustled their hair and their clothes gently fluttered about them. The night birds and crickets were all chirping their noisy farewell to a wonderful day and thanking the miracle of life and sending their praise up-to the heaven.
The old man sat there serenely enjoying the moment and the brothers all sat there absorbed in their own thoughts. Then slowly the old man asked, “Can any of your rooms be now used for any other purpose, for any better pursuits” to which the boys replied by shaking their heads. The old man raised each of son’s hands and placed them on his gnarled and aged knee and spoke as he gently caressed them. He said soothingly, “My dear boys, what you all have done tonight both amazes me and depresses me at the same time. I’m proud that my sons accomplished the task that was set forth to them by their father without ever doubting or questioning the need or motive. And I must agree that have you done exactly as I have asked you to. Yet you all seem somehow disturbed and troubled. Before we retire for the day, I shall ask you to look at the events of today in a different light. Regard the room as your mind or soul. If you have been loading your mind with worry and uninteresting and unfruitful thoughts, how do you imagine your state of mind would be? Agitated or peaceful? The contents of the eldest’s room spilled over the moment someone tried to access it. The middle one’s room did not seem to be able to hold the contents in for it was unable to properly close. The youngest one’s did not seem to have a spare space for even a speck of additional dust. Do you want your minds to be so clogged in the way the rooms are now?” That set the boys thinking. The old man then asked the boys to move in to the room he had been occupying. The boys entered the room and felt at home instantly. The room was huge and was decorated artfully. The windows were thrown wide open which filled the room with the scents of the night, warm breeze and the tunes of the crickets. The room was minimally furnished to hold only the necessary. The walls were clean and perfect. Overall the effect was pleasant and pleasing. The old man pointed out, “This now can make you boys appreciate the difference between this room and other rooms you all toiled hard to fill. You can draw parallel to the rooms and human mind. As long as you keep the doors closed and windows shut and you keep pilling all your thoughts and worries it will show on your being in the same way as to the rooms that spilled its content over on approach. But as long as you keep the mind open like the door and the heart open like the windows, the worries and vile thoughts will stay at bay. Talk to wise people, amaze knowledge, let go of things that which are beyond your control to change, if things don’t go your way humbly accept them without regret, forget the hurts and the praises alike, learn to smile. So I urge you to throw away the clutter and the rot, retain the wonderful moments of the past and make space for new memories to cherish”. That seemed to brighten the sons and they walked back home as wiser men.
Need I say anything more? My mind was like the cluttered room. I’m not saying my mind is like the serene room the old man decorated but I’m trying to have the windows and doors open.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Always together, forever apart
She was standing there, as if frozen, looking at the entrance, in the hope, that her continued staring would make him come back, bring him back. It was mid-afternoon, long time after the flight carrying him had departed. Yet, she stood there transfixed, focusing on a spot on the ground, where hours before, perhaps weeks and years before, he had been, before leaving from her life forever. That flight was transporting someone, whom she never would see again and the one whom she wished to see every minute of her living time, or the very least, see him in life and soul, just one more time. Just once! It did not matter, anyway, as they had, in their relationship, have gone beyond the point of no return, a day before his departure. She hated him for that; for leaving her stranded; for abandoning her. It was beyond her comprehension, the reason for his abrupt leaving. No words were spoken, no feelings expressed and he just left, plainly. Things were going so well between them that she couldn’t convince herself of one explanation, for why he would want out. She found it hard to believe. She felt tired; physically and mentally. It appeared as if all her strength and her will to live had boarded the plane along with him. All the while she was harboring a slight, foolish, hope that he would surely come back, though deep down, knowing that it was not possible. It was surreal and she didn’t want to accept it. Since the day that she had known that he was leaving, or more accurately left her while in presence, she was like the way she was there that day, distant and detached. She had thought, that maybe all that had happened, would take some time to sink in or perhaps would hit her unexpectedly. Right then, she realized that, that all these while, that was what she was waiting for, her final closure, seeing him leave, seeing him taken away from her. Numbness had gone, to make way for the feeling of desperation and insecurity, which seemed to grip every nerve. She felt almost lonely. She reflected back on the past, on their times spent together. Remembering the spoken words, the shared thoughts and the life lived, made her acknowledge that they would all be just memories, ghosts of the once wonderful life. An acute chill seemed to spread on her. But, she knew, however small and short lived that might have been, they have shared something hugely significant to both of them. And that small glow helped, to some extent, to dispel the pressing gloom. She needs to plough through. She needs to overcome it. She felt nauseous. She knew it had nothing to do with him leaving. It was due to something, a part of him, he had left behind, with her, in her. After all, he did not abandon her entirely.
In the background: Tune
In the background: Tune
Monday, June 18, 2007
The rain must fall.
The setting is such; there is a dull glow of yellow light emitting from the corner of the dais on which she is seen holding a man’s hands. The music is soft flowing and they are both dancing slowly. The audience seemingly enjoying this scene are in a relaxed mood. There is a slight smile on her lips. The man is looking deeply into her soft moist eyes and they appear so much in love with each other. They are enigmatic yet a simple couple whom everyone can easily connect to. A gentle breeze riffles through their hairs, adding to the romance. In the faint light only they both are visible, as the rest of stage is hidden behind the smoke. The picture makes for perfect serenity - him, her and the people. The music stops for a split second and then continues. They are still dancing in rhythm to the mellifluous music.
The music is softly yet steadily gaining tempo and the dancers, who are holding each other in a tight embrace, start to part gradually. This causes the audience to perk up a little. A thin layer of sadness crosses her radiant face only for moment and the next instance she is her same smiling self. His face has hardened a bit, reflecting that he has made up his mind to do something. She appears to be deep in concentration. The pair is now nicely far apart and they are holding just one hand. She begins to twirl around him. The music is gathering momentum and so is she. The audience feel this is a preparation for something important and are starting to pay more attention. They closely follow her, her movements and expressions.
She is twirling and twirling and eyes of those who follow her begin to sting. The music crescendoes here and so is the pulse of the audience. Her red skirt rises up and down in sync with her movements, symbolizing the nature of emotions flooding through her. It’s evident that she wants to return to the safety, cozy and warmth of the previous second, but she also experiences an insane drive that makes her want to dwell on a certain thing that she had left behind. She appears tired and weak, but the passion is unmistakable; adrenaline is pulping and the tension grips the audience too. She is holding on to her man and is trying to reach for something on the other end. No one can see what it is and they wonder if its worth so much struggle and pain. But as she keeps on going, her dedication makes them realize it should probably mean a lot to her. Some of them want her to reach that something which she desires so much and which keeps eluding her; some just want her to be done with it, as they are not able to witness the ordeal and the agony she seems to be feeling. She is oblivious to all this.
Then slowly an arm appears from the dark, like from past and beyond. She is distracted from her twirls and she shows signs of reaching for the darkness. Only she seems to be able to look beyond the arm, but the audience are just satisfied that there is someone out there at the other end to hold her, because she is too precious to be sucked up in the dark. It’s like the moon and the earth each in harmony with themselves and then suddenly as if the moon decides to reach for another planet to orbit around. It is such an emotional moment and most of them are sort of embarrassed to see such a private emotion put out in public.
Smoke rises from the dais. She continues twirling around her man, firmly holding to his hand. It’s clearly a scene of turmoil of a woman wanting to let go but willing not to. The music is building up in an alarming rate and so does her twirl. When it feels like no one can take any more swelling of the music (her motion is making some people dizzy), it suddenly stops. It comes as such a shock to the people and they take a moment to recognize where they actually are. Like the music, she too has come to an abrupt halt. And as if trying to orient she starts to reach for the arm extending towards her from beyond.
The man has come to a halt too and is steady as a statue. They are still firmly holding a hand. She is slowly extending her left arm to reach her calling from the dark, which for whatever reason seems far away than before. To reach that she moves her feet further apart stretching herself to the maximum extent but the previous interlock seems to be holding her back. She relaxes the grip and is only in a state of feather touch with her partner. Though their contact is in the slightest of touch possible, more like there is no touching at all, his hand moves wherever her’s moved. Only love can make this possible. Now, she is in-between both men. There is absolute silence in the room. Even the dark hand has stopped moving.
She is just a thin distance away and one slight move must bring contact and she presses her finger tip against the new hand. Naturally, everyone is expecting a holding, after all the trouble she faced. Yet, suddenly she goes still. Looking intently, some see a tear drop just clinging to her eye lids. It rolls down onto the floor. The silence in the room is such that the sound of that tear drop makes an echo. Those who understand feel their eyes burn. Funny, how a drop of water can start a fire. The reverberation causes shivers in many. She keeps her eyes fixed in the darkness, where the hand is no longer visible.
All of a sudden, she seems to fumble. At the exact same moment her man takes the liberty of tugging onto the fingers, which a few short seconds ago let go of his own, and sweetly pulls her to himself. She lets him pull her and when they are in a hug she abruptly looks at him, in a new, grateful way, and smiles. And that says a million thanks. The music starts slowly again.
In the background:Tune
The music is softly yet steadily gaining tempo and the dancers, who are holding each other in a tight embrace, start to part gradually. This causes the audience to perk up a little. A thin layer of sadness crosses her radiant face only for moment and the next instance she is her same smiling self. His face has hardened a bit, reflecting that he has made up his mind to do something. She appears to be deep in concentration. The pair is now nicely far apart and they are holding just one hand. She begins to twirl around him. The music is gathering momentum and so is she. The audience feel this is a preparation for something important and are starting to pay more attention. They closely follow her, her movements and expressions.
She is twirling and twirling and eyes of those who follow her begin to sting. The music crescendoes here and so is the pulse of the audience. Her red skirt rises up and down in sync with her movements, symbolizing the nature of emotions flooding through her. It’s evident that she wants to return to the safety, cozy and warmth of the previous second, but she also experiences an insane drive that makes her want to dwell on a certain thing that she had left behind. She appears tired and weak, but the passion is unmistakable; adrenaline is pulping and the tension grips the audience too. She is holding on to her man and is trying to reach for something on the other end. No one can see what it is and they wonder if its worth so much struggle and pain. But as she keeps on going, her dedication makes them realize it should probably mean a lot to her. Some of them want her to reach that something which she desires so much and which keeps eluding her; some just want her to be done with it, as they are not able to witness the ordeal and the agony she seems to be feeling. She is oblivious to all this.
Then slowly an arm appears from the dark, like from past and beyond. She is distracted from her twirls and she shows signs of reaching for the darkness. Only she seems to be able to look beyond the arm, but the audience are just satisfied that there is someone out there at the other end to hold her, because she is too precious to be sucked up in the dark. It’s like the moon and the earth each in harmony with themselves and then suddenly as if the moon decides to reach for another planet to orbit around. It is such an emotional moment and most of them are sort of embarrassed to see such a private emotion put out in public.
Smoke rises from the dais. She continues twirling around her man, firmly holding to his hand. It’s clearly a scene of turmoil of a woman wanting to let go but willing not to. The music is building up in an alarming rate and so does her twirl. When it feels like no one can take any more swelling of the music (her motion is making some people dizzy), it suddenly stops. It comes as such a shock to the people and they take a moment to recognize where they actually are. Like the music, she too has come to an abrupt halt. And as if trying to orient she starts to reach for the arm extending towards her from beyond.
The man has come to a halt too and is steady as a statue. They are still firmly holding a hand. She is slowly extending her left arm to reach her calling from the dark, which for whatever reason seems far away than before. To reach that she moves her feet further apart stretching herself to the maximum extent but the previous interlock seems to be holding her back. She relaxes the grip and is only in a state of feather touch with her partner. Though their contact is in the slightest of touch possible, more like there is no touching at all, his hand moves wherever her’s moved. Only love can make this possible. Now, she is in-between both men. There is absolute silence in the room. Even the dark hand has stopped moving.
She is just a thin distance away and one slight move must bring contact and she presses her finger tip against the new hand. Naturally, everyone is expecting a holding, after all the trouble she faced. Yet, suddenly she goes still. Looking intently, some see a tear drop just clinging to her eye lids. It rolls down onto the floor. The silence in the room is such that the sound of that tear drop makes an echo. Those who understand feel their eyes burn. Funny, how a drop of water can start a fire. The reverberation causes shivers in many. She keeps her eyes fixed in the darkness, where the hand is no longer visible.
All of a sudden, she seems to fumble. At the exact same moment her man takes the liberty of tugging onto the fingers, which a few short seconds ago let go of his own, and sweetly pulls her to himself. She lets him pull her and when they are in a hug she abruptly looks at him, in a new, grateful way, and smiles. And that says a million thanks. The music starts slowly again.
In the background:Tune
Friday, February 16, 2007
Now and then..,
I once wrote something on a piece of paper. I sent it across to you and you returned it, un-creased and unread. I did not give up. I did not want to give up. I roamed around with the intention of handing over that letter to you. You regarded it as a blank note, but I was prepared to write so many of such letters.
I was obsessed with it. I carried it along where ever I went. It was like blind person having a map to the destination. That piece was a huge burden, yet, I found means to talk and feel about it. I had hardly participated in the you-give-yours and I-will-give-mine kind of exchange carnivals and had no clue about any of them either. All the same when I found myself on one such occasion I perfectly knew what I wanted and understood what I was doing, and expressed all in that paper. Yet the understanding was limited to me, as you had no idea as to the happenings. You were busy to notice the transformations; and if u did notice, even accidentally, you dismissed them with an airy wave of your hand and a sneer. I remained in your path and somehow you seemed to miss me on your ways.
I joked, I cried and I even dreamt about the situation. Nevertheless, I never gave up on the letter, believing you would one day reach out your hands to take the it from me. I thought you just needed some time to see the truth behind my decisions. I figured you would feel the warmth of my yearnings and relent. I imagined that some day you would find the words in my songs and sing along. I conceived that you are waiting for the right color to come along, to paint my canvas. I convinced myself that sometimes even your silence fitted well in my poems. I reveled in the petrichor and chill rains that your glance in my wake brought along. I broke down when you did scold me, but I built myself up again seeing you smile.
Life was like the unformed dream, where you would desperately want something to happen but the thoughts take their own form. The letter was an integral part of all things; it had seen it all. But, the determination gradually started waning. How much ever I found it difficult and disquieting to let go, something inside of me stared to inch away from the hold of that letter. Should I have pleaded more? Should I have read it out aloud for you and the world to hear? Should I have presented it in a more glamorous form? I don’t know what I did wrong? Or did I do it overtly correct? I had formed up questions for you. ‘When will the flowers bloom in your garden? Is your canvas painted in colors? Do you recognize the earthly smell of tears? Can you tell apart the happy and sad tunes of the birds? Has the sea waves ever caressed your feet and exchanged secrets?’ Or did I delve too much into the realms of imagination and mere fantasy to have expected all this from you? Did I keep facing the wrong directions when I ought to have looked elsewhere? Is it my fault that I did all those?
Time rolled over and we got washed away to different shores. The main became the void. The words must have faded off. And now, when you want to have a look at what was ever written, I seem to have lost that piece of paper. Must be around the time, I completely lost you. Could it be that, the paper understood it is irrelevant when the intent is itself lost, and got lost itself?
In the background : Lyrics Tune
I was obsessed with it. I carried it along where ever I went. It was like blind person having a map to the destination. That piece was a huge burden, yet, I found means to talk and feel about it. I had hardly participated in the you-give-yours and I-will-give-mine kind of exchange carnivals and had no clue about any of them either. All the same when I found myself on one such occasion I perfectly knew what I wanted and understood what I was doing, and expressed all in that paper. Yet the understanding was limited to me, as you had no idea as to the happenings. You were busy to notice the transformations; and if u did notice, even accidentally, you dismissed them with an airy wave of your hand and a sneer. I remained in your path and somehow you seemed to miss me on your ways.
I joked, I cried and I even dreamt about the situation. Nevertheless, I never gave up on the letter, believing you would one day reach out your hands to take the it from me. I thought you just needed some time to see the truth behind my decisions. I figured you would feel the warmth of my yearnings and relent. I imagined that some day you would find the words in my songs and sing along. I conceived that you are waiting for the right color to come along, to paint my canvas. I convinced myself that sometimes even your silence fitted well in my poems. I reveled in the petrichor and chill rains that your glance in my wake brought along. I broke down when you did scold me, but I built myself up again seeing you smile.
Life was like the unformed dream, where you would desperately want something to happen but the thoughts take their own form. The letter was an integral part of all things; it had seen it all. But, the determination gradually started waning. How much ever I found it difficult and disquieting to let go, something inside of me stared to inch away from the hold of that letter. Should I have pleaded more? Should I have read it out aloud for you and the world to hear? Should I have presented it in a more glamorous form? I don’t know what I did wrong? Or did I do it overtly correct? I had formed up questions for you. ‘When will the flowers bloom in your garden? Is your canvas painted in colors? Do you recognize the earthly smell of tears? Can you tell apart the happy and sad tunes of the birds? Has the sea waves ever caressed your feet and exchanged secrets?’ Or did I delve too much into the realms of imagination and mere fantasy to have expected all this from you? Did I keep facing the wrong directions when I ought to have looked elsewhere? Is it my fault that I did all those?
Time rolled over and we got washed away to different shores. The main became the void. The words must have faded off. And now, when you want to have a look at what was ever written, I seem to have lost that piece of paper. Must be around the time, I completely lost you. Could it be that, the paper understood it is irrelevant when the intent is itself lost, and got lost itself?
In the background : Lyrics Tune
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
I am Love..,
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
(Mary Frye)
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
(Mary Frye)
Saturday, September 2, 2006
Divine manifestation...
She was all prepared for that special meeting, an encounter which she had been long awaiting. He was all special to her and she looked up to him perpetually, in times of happiness or even otherwise. He appeared specifically handsome that night and looked adorable in grey outfit that had a strange, mild hint of orange. He seemed all set for the encounter too, occasionally flashing a radiant smile across the distance between them. Whenever she gave him that charming look, he made a nervous shift but never failed to make a slight, twinkling wink. Maybe, the thrill that her private dreams about that encounter were slowly coming true, she looked her attractive best, not to mention the captivating fragrance about her. She came through as extremely serene and seductive at the same time.
He, reveling in the display of importance, teased her by pretending to take little interest in her and remained almost calm for a long time. With little or no response from him, she felt that she was not going to get her whims full filled that night. So she decided to do her bit in trying to ensnare him and thought that some innocuous flirting would definitely ignite jealousy and make him react. Meanwhile, there was this other one, who was apparently taken by her exquisiteness and was trying to enchant her. She too, mischievously, pretended to enjoy the attention. He took the advantage of her interest, and made his moves quickly. Playfully ruffling her, gently caressing her features, he tried to sweep her off, in strong and hungry embraces. She also gave in, to a very little extent, even though she was longing for a different kind of an embrace, that which would arouse her to full senses and provide her total gratification, that which would be the long awaited revelation and the mere memory of which would excite her. And she precisely knew who can do that to her.
So deep was her pining, for that special touch and endearment that she totally lost interest in the flirting she had been indulged in. He was true in his intent, but she started to feel suffocated in the imperativeness and the control he was gaining on her. She broke off abruptly, feeling hurt and daunted. Little did he know that she flirted with him assuming it to be a means of making her playing-hard-to-get lover take notice! Neither was he aware, that she, though in his grip, was all the while having her looks riveted at her special one and that she took up his bait, just to mock and lure back her dear.When she broke free of him, it drove the point to him and he recognized the pretence of her responses and her lack of actual involvement, but accepted with deepest remorse his failure, and braced himself, thinking it was worth a shot. Among so many other stuffs he also sent down a particularly lovely and a pleasantly scented flower, as a casual remember-me-by. That flower traced a gentle and slow path towards her. Its movement was almost sensual and equally or more importantly enticing to the one whom she had tried to coax; the one for whose touch she had long since nurtured a yearning.
With a glance, that spoke of some true want and the need to belong, she glanced at him and sensed that her beloved was looking down upon her in a demurely manner, which she knew meant that she was finally getting what she desired. He was sure disturbed when he saw her in another’s embrace, but at the moment he clearly realized what she meant to him and how much he wanted her. The moment he saw her break free from the another’s grip, he was ecstatic, and let out a loud whistle in exuberance. He knew he could not resist his attraction towards her any longer, so, he bent down and kissed her ever so slightly. She was beyond herself at his kiss, but her avidity kept her cautious, lest she turn him off. But he was gentle and she could sense his urgency in possessing her wholly. She gave in, obviously succumbing to her own needs and what ensued were great moments of intimacy and belongingness. He was generous and she was totally accommodating, both rejoicing the togetherness, for their ardor for each other was so remarkable and to some extent insatiable, passionate and indulgent.
Even after a long time, the trees are swaying as if in eulogy to this holy union of heaven and earth, with the winds providing a melancholic interlude.
He, reveling in the display of importance, teased her by pretending to take little interest in her and remained almost calm for a long time. With little or no response from him, she felt that she was not going to get her whims full filled that night. So she decided to do her bit in trying to ensnare him and thought that some innocuous flirting would definitely ignite jealousy and make him react. Meanwhile, there was this other one, who was apparently taken by her exquisiteness and was trying to enchant her. She too, mischievously, pretended to enjoy the attention. He took the advantage of her interest, and made his moves quickly. Playfully ruffling her, gently caressing her features, he tried to sweep her off, in strong and hungry embraces. She also gave in, to a very little extent, even though she was longing for a different kind of an embrace, that which would arouse her to full senses and provide her total gratification, that which would be the long awaited revelation and the mere memory of which would excite her. And she precisely knew who can do that to her.
So deep was her pining, for that special touch and endearment that she totally lost interest in the flirting she had been indulged in. He was true in his intent, but she started to feel suffocated in the imperativeness and the control he was gaining on her. She broke off abruptly, feeling hurt and daunted. Little did he know that she flirted with him assuming it to be a means of making her playing-hard-to-get lover take notice! Neither was he aware, that she, though in his grip, was all the while having her looks riveted at her special one and that she took up his bait, just to mock and lure back her dear.When she broke free of him, it drove the point to him and he recognized the pretence of her responses and her lack of actual involvement, but accepted with deepest remorse his failure, and braced himself, thinking it was worth a shot. Among so many other stuffs he also sent down a particularly lovely and a pleasantly scented flower, as a casual remember-me-by. That flower traced a gentle and slow path towards her. Its movement was almost sensual and equally or more importantly enticing to the one whom she had tried to coax; the one for whose touch she had long since nurtured a yearning.
With a glance, that spoke of some true want and the need to belong, she glanced at him and sensed that her beloved was looking down upon her in a demurely manner, which she knew meant that she was finally getting what she desired. He was sure disturbed when he saw her in another’s embrace, but at the moment he clearly realized what she meant to him and how much he wanted her. The moment he saw her break free from the another’s grip, he was ecstatic, and let out a loud whistle in exuberance. He knew he could not resist his attraction towards her any longer, so, he bent down and kissed her ever so slightly. She was beyond herself at his kiss, but her avidity kept her cautious, lest she turn him off. But he was gentle and she could sense his urgency in possessing her wholly. She gave in, obviously succumbing to her own needs and what ensued were great moments of intimacy and belongingness. He was generous and she was totally accommodating, both rejoicing the togetherness, for their ardor for each other was so remarkable and to some extent insatiable, passionate and indulgent.
Even after a long time, the trees are swaying as if in eulogy to this holy union of heaven and earth, with the winds providing a melancholic interlude.
Mannile mannile vandhu udaiyudhu vaanam
Mazhaiyile karaiyudhe rendu managalin dhooram
Kaadhil ketkum idi oosai, kaadhal nenjathin paribhaashai
Mazhaiyai pola uravaada manadhil enna peraasai
Neeril ezhudhum kaadhal azhiyum, mazhai neere ezhudhidum kaadhal azhiyaadhe..
Mazhaiyile karaiyudhe rendu managalin dhooram
Kaadhil ketkum idi oosai, kaadhal nenjathin paribhaashai
Mazhaiyai pola uravaada manadhil enna peraasai
Neeril ezhudhum kaadhal azhiyum, mazhai neere ezhudhidum kaadhal azhiyaadhe..
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Alright, still
...As far as I can trace back and remember, life was meaningful and fun for the first few years, until that one fateful day - that day when playfully my world got changed. Forever! I did not know about it then. I took them to be my friends and play-mates though they were so very much elder to me. I literally started to live and play with them. I was so innocent and young to analyze if it was anything different and unfortunately,I began to enjoy that life.
Now, I don’t even remember some of them from that gang of 6 or 7 or maybe 8. But the ways they thought me, the games we indulged in are strongly imbibed in me, like carvings in a stone. I was introduced to the stuff at an age, when rational questioning came next to having fun. So for some days, when my heart craved for that means and actions, my mind did not point it out to be any different, because I was not aware of it being different. In-fact, the realization was very painful and heart-wrenching. How could ‘they’ do that to me, that too at that small age? I had so many questions, but so few answers; though I knew I had one thing, a burden for life that I have to endure. I was like a lump of clay or wax and ‘they’ made me take this form. Now, the candle has melted and the clay-doll has lost its moisture and is broken. There have been countless days and nights, I used to spend up crying and lamenting over the way I’m; and that, it’s not very charming to be different like this. Not that I had much choice, but with all these crying and stuff, there was some truth about my life. An irrefutable truth – my mind longed for it and I began to accept myself for what I was. I started to seek solace in the arms of like minded people; of them some traveling in this lane out of their own choice and consent; some cause of reasons similar to mine; and some others due to reasons much worse.
Sometimes I wonder if there was ever a God. If He was real and existent, He would not have let this happen and I would ask Him this, “How come the Angel you sent to watch over me failed me in this? How could she not realize, I’m going through all this and not recognize the changes? She was with me in all my highs and lows, and helped me put things straight, but where was she when I was being shaped like this?” But other times I do feel that God exists. Though He had taken away from me the normal pleasures of life, He had been lavish in providing me with friends – great friends. Touch wood. If not been for them, I would be long gone, miserably succumbing to the pressures of the past. It is only with their constant support, patient ears and tender hearts but stronger minds that I am, what I’m today.
Alright, but still some days I feel terrible - with the thought of being deprived of that one real companion who would support and understand me emotionally, physically, mentally, and will promise to be with me throughout my life; - with the knowledge that I will never be in a meaningful relationship that has a future, progeny and lot many other things; - with the injustice of all this that I’m made to suffer for no fault of mine. It’s not like the world I’m in does not involve all these things. It sure does and I have a wonderful time too. But,...you know, for my emotional needs I still look for a...!It ain't gonna happen (sigh)! Anyways, lets just say, some times it does hurt. I don’t know if it would do any good to anybody knowing the truth, about me. I guess it would not - especially, not to my family and some special people will definitely not be able to take it. But life goes on as it never ends, why not have some fun in the ride...though,you know...Oh! You don't know!
Ironically, the so called civilized-and-intellectual-time stands a silent witness to these painful and crude realities. A blank noise. Indeed, it is a not-so-good-world after all.
P.S: May not be exactly true or correct. May differ from one to ‘other’.
Now, I don’t even remember some of them from that gang of 6 or 7 or maybe 8. But the ways they thought me, the games we indulged in are strongly imbibed in me, like carvings in a stone. I was introduced to the stuff at an age, when rational questioning came next to having fun. So for some days, when my heart craved for that means and actions, my mind did not point it out to be any different, because I was not aware of it being different. In-fact, the realization was very painful and heart-wrenching. How could ‘they’ do that to me, that too at that small age? I had so many questions, but so few answers; though I knew I had one thing, a burden for life that I have to endure. I was like a lump of clay or wax and ‘they’ made me take this form. Now, the candle has melted and the clay-doll has lost its moisture and is broken. There have been countless days and nights, I used to spend up crying and lamenting over the way I’m; and that, it’s not very charming to be different like this. Not that I had much choice, but with all these crying and stuff, there was some truth about my life. An irrefutable truth – my mind longed for it and I began to accept myself for what I was. I started to seek solace in the arms of like minded people; of them some traveling in this lane out of their own choice and consent; some cause of reasons similar to mine; and some others due to reasons much worse.
Sometimes I wonder if there was ever a God. If He was real and existent, He would not have let this happen and I would ask Him this, “How come the Angel you sent to watch over me failed me in this? How could she not realize, I’m going through all this and not recognize the changes? She was with me in all my highs and lows, and helped me put things straight, but where was she when I was being shaped like this?” But other times I do feel that God exists. Though He had taken away from me the normal pleasures of life, He had been lavish in providing me with friends – great friends. Touch wood. If not been for them, I would be long gone, miserably succumbing to the pressures of the past. It is only with their constant support, patient ears and tender hearts but stronger minds that I am, what I’m today.
Alright, but still some days I feel terrible - with the thought of being deprived of that one real companion who would support and understand me emotionally, physically, mentally, and will promise to be with me throughout my life; - with the knowledge that I will never be in a meaningful relationship that has a future, progeny and lot many other things; - with the injustice of all this that I’m made to suffer for no fault of mine. It’s not like the world I’m in does not involve all these things. It sure does and I have a wonderful time too. But,...you know, for my emotional needs I still look for a...!It ain't gonna happen (sigh)! Anyways, lets just say, some times it does hurt. I don’t know if it would do any good to anybody knowing the truth, about me. I guess it would not - especially, not to my family and some special people will definitely not be able to take it. But life goes on as it never ends, why not have some fun in the ride...though,you know...Oh! You don't know!
Ironically, the so called civilized-and-intellectual-time stands a silent witness to these painful and crude realities. A blank noise. Indeed, it is a not-so-good-world after all.
P.S: May not be exactly true or correct. May differ from one to ‘other’.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Mirage!
Prompt: How I won my ship back?
Once there lived a little girl. She was very simple and naïve. She did all the things her masters ever asked her to do. Very truthful, her zest for life was remarkable. From morning till night she enjoyed every moment and lived her life to the fullest. She was very friendly, approachable and fun to be with. She had very few close friends, but she cared for them deeply.
She had one peculiar habit. She loved that tall window in her palace, which offered a nice view of the town below. She used to spend some time everyday standing by that window, going through the events of the day or thinking about something or just thinking about nothing. She never did that on purpose and she was never able to concentrate on one particular thing. Though she did not even know why she was doing it, she did it nevertheless. This was her way of communicating to herself, reaching to the Princess inside her. Her every wish, her failures, her secrets – the window sills knew it all. She would hold on to it and stare at the view aimlessly till it grew dark outside.
Then one day, when she was silently enjoying her silence, the site of him crossing the street, caught her attention. He was tall, handsome and sweet looking. She took an instant liking to the Prince. Life was never the same again for her. Every day she used to wait for him to pass through her place.
It took him merely few minutes to cross her place. But it was like a year to her. She lived her hours for those minutes. She was obsessed by him. She felt claustrophobic in her palace. As the days passed, she started liking everything about him. Insanely; Dangerously! She was so blindly and deeply in love with him that she could sense his presence even at a distance. By his smell, by his voice, she did not know. How she wanted those strong hands to hold hers; those lips on hers; his warmth to expel her mist? She smiled to herself. Her garden was in full bloom. She experienced bliss. Completely! Life was colorful. She felt the birds and rivers sang only for her.
She felt, he was everything, and everything was him! And he in turn seemed to enjoy the attention. Passed on those lovely messages to her; would turn around and give her one of his naughtiest smiles, every time he caught her eyes. Not a day passed when they did not meet, when they did not feel for each other, all the while becoming an integral part of each others life. The moment of separation each day was painful, but with that came the hopes and dreams of the next day; and life till that moment was a boring drag.
But one day, he did not come, and she missed him. That continued for a few days and she missed him badly. When that prolonged for months she began to worry about him. Whoever said, out of sight, then out of mind, was an idiot. His memory in her kept haunting her everyday and she felt only during his absence from her life, he started growing in her more. Than ever! And one day he came along. She ran the lengths of her palace to greet him as usual. He smiled back at her as usual, dutifully. She was happy but slightly disturbed by the presence of his friend at his side. She reasoned out that they could be general acquaintance. And when this accompaniment followed, she became worried and spoke about this to her friends. They said what she dreaded to hear. What she had stubbornly refused to accept, all along.
She felt terrible at the loss. At the same time she was incensed. How could he ever leave her? She hated him. She loved him. She did not know what went wrong. Were things assumed? Was it a cold betrayal? Was it just another ploy of fate? Whatever, anyone said or did did nothing to allay the feeling of lost - of losing someone so precious and heart-fully possessed. Only then she realized how deeply she loved him, and how he was much more than a love to her. He had been her life!
As like the ultimate Master, her master had other plans for her too. Suddenly everything changed. She was denied speech. She was denied right to her thoughts about him. It was tough; tougher than holding her own breathe; even tougher than the urge to drink water when thirsty. She wanted to put and end. An end to everything - to herself! But realized she couldn’t do it. For the sake of her master. For the sake of the Prince.
She was torn. Neither was she able to settle and bury the love; nor was she able to stop it growing. She was alive for the sake of living, and she was living because she was still alive. Everything everywhere looked normal and abnormal. A thing that turned her on, the same thing turned her off. All wanted her to stop that way of her living. All of them, whom she loved deeply, who loved her deeply wanted her to stop things abruptly, before she ended up with more hurt and the ensuing regret. So she made a choice. The choice was to lose. To lose him! To lose to him! And in that losing she won back her life.
Now she stares long into the space. Her eyes are unfocused, unlike her thoughts. The birds still sing, but melancholic tunes. The river still flows serenely, but in an apathetic pace. One thing different is that a small blotch in the corner of the paper which grew to occupy the entire side is now restricted, controlled and pushed aside to stay in the corner. Forever! The stain still present, nonetheless!
Tears, well up in her eyes! A tear, drops down, in the memory of the Prince. That one drop spills into million drops. Avalanche! She can still sense him in the air.
At a distance, faintly, she hears the temple bells toll, jerking her back to reality. She bids a farewell to the window sills, gives a final glance to the path where she first met him, and moves away wiping her tears. She now has got a kingdom to rule. And a life to live!
The window sill rattles in the chill evening drizzle, as if calling back to her saying, ‘Not by winning alone can one truly win!’
Once there lived a little girl. She was very simple and naïve. She did all the things her masters ever asked her to do. Very truthful, her zest for life was remarkable. From morning till night she enjoyed every moment and lived her life to the fullest. She was very friendly, approachable and fun to be with. She had very few close friends, but she cared for them deeply.
She had one peculiar habit. She loved that tall window in her palace, which offered a nice view of the town below. She used to spend some time everyday standing by that window, going through the events of the day or thinking about something or just thinking about nothing. She never did that on purpose and she was never able to concentrate on one particular thing. Though she did not even know why she was doing it, she did it nevertheless. This was her way of communicating to herself, reaching to the Princess inside her. Her every wish, her failures, her secrets – the window sills knew it all. She would hold on to it and stare at the view aimlessly till it grew dark outside.
Then one day, when she was silently enjoying her silence, the site of him crossing the street, caught her attention. He was tall, handsome and sweet looking. She took an instant liking to the Prince. Life was never the same again for her. Every day she used to wait for him to pass through her place.
It took him merely few minutes to cross her place. But it was like a year to her. She lived her hours for those minutes. She was obsessed by him. She felt claustrophobic in her palace. As the days passed, she started liking everything about him. Insanely; Dangerously! She was so blindly and deeply in love with him that she could sense his presence even at a distance. By his smell, by his voice, she did not know. How she wanted those strong hands to hold hers; those lips on hers; his warmth to expel her mist? She smiled to herself. Her garden was in full bloom. She experienced bliss. Completely! Life was colorful. She felt the birds and rivers sang only for her.
She felt, he was everything, and everything was him! And he in turn seemed to enjoy the attention. Passed on those lovely messages to her; would turn around and give her one of his naughtiest smiles, every time he caught her eyes. Not a day passed when they did not meet, when they did not feel for each other, all the while becoming an integral part of each others life. The moment of separation each day was painful, but with that came the hopes and dreams of the next day; and life till that moment was a boring drag.
But one day, he did not come, and she missed him. That continued for a few days and she missed him badly. When that prolonged for months she began to worry about him. Whoever said, out of sight, then out of mind, was an idiot. His memory in her kept haunting her everyday and she felt only during his absence from her life, he started growing in her more. Than ever! And one day he came along. She ran the lengths of her palace to greet him as usual. He smiled back at her as usual, dutifully. She was happy but slightly disturbed by the presence of his friend at his side. She reasoned out that they could be general acquaintance. And when this accompaniment followed, she became worried and spoke about this to her friends. They said what she dreaded to hear. What she had stubbornly refused to accept, all along.
She felt terrible at the loss. At the same time she was incensed. How could he ever leave her? She hated him. She loved him. She did not know what went wrong. Were things assumed? Was it a cold betrayal? Was it just another ploy of fate? Whatever, anyone said or did did nothing to allay the feeling of lost - of losing someone so precious and heart-fully possessed. Only then she realized how deeply she loved him, and how he was much more than a love to her. He had been her life!
As like the ultimate Master, her master had other plans for her too. Suddenly everything changed. She was denied speech. She was denied right to her thoughts about him. It was tough; tougher than holding her own breathe; even tougher than the urge to drink water when thirsty. She wanted to put and end. An end to everything - to herself! But realized she couldn’t do it. For the sake of her master. For the sake of the Prince.
She was torn. Neither was she able to settle and bury the love; nor was she able to stop it growing. She was alive for the sake of living, and she was living because she was still alive. Everything everywhere looked normal and abnormal. A thing that turned her on, the same thing turned her off. All wanted her to stop that way of her living. All of them, whom she loved deeply, who loved her deeply wanted her to stop things abruptly, before she ended up with more hurt and the ensuing regret. So she made a choice. The choice was to lose. To lose him! To lose to him! And in that losing she won back her life.
GATES OF MEMORIES REFUSED TO CLOSE
HOW I MISSED U, NO ONE KNOWS
DAYS PASSED ON LIKE YEARS
I REMEMBERED U IN MY SILENT TEARS
GOOD BYE. AH, SAVANT PRINCE!
HOW I MISSED U, NO ONE KNOWS
DAYS PASSED ON LIKE YEARS
I REMEMBERED U IN MY SILENT TEARS
GOOD BYE. AH, SAVANT PRINCE!
Now she stares long into the space. Her eyes are unfocused, unlike her thoughts. The birds still sing, but melancholic tunes. The river still flows serenely, but in an apathetic pace. One thing different is that a small blotch in the corner of the paper which grew to occupy the entire side is now restricted, controlled and pushed aside to stay in the corner. Forever! The stain still present, nonetheless!
Tears, well up in her eyes! A tear, drops down, in the memory of the Prince. That one drop spills into million drops. Avalanche! She can still sense him in the air.
At a distance, faintly, she hears the temple bells toll, jerking her back to reality. She bids a farewell to the window sills, gives a final glance to the path where she first met him, and moves away wiping her tears. She now has got a kingdom to rule. And a life to live!
The window sill rattles in the chill evening drizzle, as if calling back to her saying, ‘Not by winning alone can one truly win!’
Wednesday, April 5, 2006
The pain of letting go..,
The time she waited to see him was painful, but not as painful as the few moments preceding the actual moment. It seemed like a million years. It was literally a free ticket journey to hell and to a worse hell. At the same time the anticipation and the enthusiasm of seeing him for the first time were killing her. She had left beyond her family, friends and the rest for him. But the moment she saw him she felt it was definitely worth the wait.
He was the world to her! She despised all her other pleasures just to be around him, to see him smile in his sleep, to hold that soft and warm hands in hers, to lose track of time listening to him mumble sweet nothings in her ears, to feel the wetness of his lips against her cheek when she held him in a tight hug. She was filled with pristine love! She felt complete.
The time she spent with him was the best part of her life. What she shared with him was one of the most beautiful and intimate relationship in the whole world. He would walk around her in that special style that she adored; would come crawling back to her even when she kept pushing him away in that funny and teasing way. And she would be there for his every smile and whimper. They communicated in that special language, only they both understood.
As like every woman, she too had so many dreams and many silly and baseless worries that some thing will happen to hamper their lived-happily dream life. Well, she was not entirely wrong nor paranoic.And she was the reason for letting him go! It was that crazy period in her life, when she seemed to have everything; at the same felt like she had lost everything. So she knew from the start, this happiness was not to last. Earlier, her parents chided her for ever wanting to have him, because they were worried about what the world will speak of them and the way their daughter turned out to be .Her friends advised her that it was a lost cause, wishing to have him for the rest of her life after all that she had been through.
She did not like that. She did not need that. Again! She did not want to lose him too, as she had - to lose a man she thought she was blessed to live with. Life was bliss until the moment she came to know of the cheating and betrayal and the injustice of it. As such she was totally helpless and was not in a position to question the man in any way that was legal. She was partly annoyed at her own self, having to have ever trusted some one like that man. She chose to part. That scarred her being and she thought that was all she would ever be able to take. But one thing she was ever grateful to that man, inspite of all the hatred pounding in every vein of hers was that he was the reason she ever got the most precious gift. She took it to be the string that a destitute woman like her can hold on to. On the verge of being wrenched up from that one life supporting string, she was torn.
Finally she decided to let him go. She thought to herself, however tough this may seem she was doing this for the sake of him. If he would be happy with someone else, then so be it. If some body can give him the only one thing the she can’t then it was all that was to it. Yea! There was this one thing which she can never give him. She had lost faith in men, well of course, except him. She was sure; as they grew old some embarrassing situations would arise, where she would be the victimized and put to accusation. She feared that this may, may give him a tiny reason to hate her, for putting upon him such a burden and embarrassment. She thought separation at the start would spare her from as much pain as it would be after so many years. Luckily there came along a wonderful woman who promised her that she would be with him all time long and take good care him and would make a great home with him. She knew he would definitely be happy with her.
Though she made up so innumerable reasons to support her decision, the irrational and the unreasonable part of her, which was filled with love for him, kept confusing her. But she had made her decision. Strongly! Nothing mattered then. Nothing mattered after. Not a tear was shed. Not a word was uttered. And her life was never the same again. She was alive, barely, physically.
What would she not give to have that one year back? She has relived that year and time for over a million times in her mind. Even now in the depths of the nights she would wake up suddenly hearing him call her, only to realize that it was just a dream. If she ever had the chance to live her own life again, she would not hesitate to give all that she owned for the sake of having him. When ever she saw someone holding his hands and cuddling up with him she does not feel any pangs of jealousy but sadness that she ever had to give him up. But he, unawares of all this emotional turbulence of hers, is still full of the same charm and in the years that had passed had grown more handsome.
She sure let go of him. But she is still holding on to the memory that he is hers.
He will always be her baby! And no one can ever deny that. No one!
He was the world to her! She despised all her other pleasures just to be around him, to see him smile in his sleep, to hold that soft and warm hands in hers, to lose track of time listening to him mumble sweet nothings in her ears, to feel the wetness of his lips against her cheek when she held him in a tight hug. She was filled with pristine love! She felt complete.
The time she spent with him was the best part of her life. What she shared with him was one of the most beautiful and intimate relationship in the whole world. He would walk around her in that special style that she adored; would come crawling back to her even when she kept pushing him away in that funny and teasing way. And she would be there for his every smile and whimper. They communicated in that special language, only they both understood.
As like every woman, she too had so many dreams and many silly and baseless worries that some thing will happen to hamper their lived-happily dream life. Well, she was not entirely wrong nor paranoic.And she was the reason for letting him go! It was that crazy period in her life, when she seemed to have everything; at the same felt like she had lost everything. So she knew from the start, this happiness was not to last. Earlier, her parents chided her for ever wanting to have him, because they were worried about what the world will speak of them and the way their daughter turned out to be .Her friends advised her that it was a lost cause, wishing to have him for the rest of her life after all that she had been through.
She did not like that. She did not need that. Again! She did not want to lose him too, as she had - to lose a man she thought she was blessed to live with. Life was bliss until the moment she came to know of the cheating and betrayal and the injustice of it. As such she was totally helpless and was not in a position to question the man in any way that was legal. She was partly annoyed at her own self, having to have ever trusted some one like that man. She chose to part. That scarred her being and she thought that was all she would ever be able to take. But one thing she was ever grateful to that man, inspite of all the hatred pounding in every vein of hers was that he was the reason she ever got the most precious gift. She took it to be the string that a destitute woman like her can hold on to. On the verge of being wrenched up from that one life supporting string, she was torn.
Finally she decided to let him go. She thought to herself, however tough this may seem she was doing this for the sake of him. If he would be happy with someone else, then so be it. If some body can give him the only one thing the she can’t then it was all that was to it. Yea! There was this one thing which she can never give him. She had lost faith in men, well of course, except him. She was sure; as they grew old some embarrassing situations would arise, where she would be the victimized and put to accusation. She feared that this may, may give him a tiny reason to hate her, for putting upon him such a burden and embarrassment. She thought separation at the start would spare her from as much pain as it would be after so many years. Luckily there came along a wonderful woman who promised her that she would be with him all time long and take good care him and would make a great home with him. She knew he would definitely be happy with her.
Though she made up so innumerable reasons to support her decision, the irrational and the unreasonable part of her, which was filled with love for him, kept confusing her. But she had made her decision. Strongly! Nothing mattered then. Nothing mattered after. Not a tear was shed. Not a word was uttered. And her life was never the same again. She was alive, barely, physically.
What would she not give to have that one year back? She has relived that year and time for over a million times in her mind. Even now in the depths of the nights she would wake up suddenly hearing him call her, only to realize that it was just a dream. If she ever had the chance to live her own life again, she would not hesitate to give all that she owned for the sake of having him. When ever she saw someone holding his hands and cuddling up with him she does not feel any pangs of jealousy but sadness that she ever had to give him up. But he, unawares of all this emotional turbulence of hers, is still full of the same charm and in the years that had passed had grown more handsome.
She sure let go of him. But she is still holding on to the memory that he is hers.
He will always be her baby! And no one can ever deny that. No one!
Tuesday, July 5, 2005
Farewell..,
Journey!! One best time to let ur mind roam freely, hindered by no disturbances. Like the view that passes by the window the thoughts fly by ….
*
I had reached the Crammin restaurant. It was a cool and breezy evening in Bangalore and I was waiting for my friends to come and join me. Just then I had called Amisha and it seemed like she is on her way along with her colleague Rahul. Shruthi already had told me she will a bit late. They were my best pals and we were meeting after a very long time.
I spent the next few minutes window shopping and looking at my watch and finally, Amisha and Rahul arrived. I saw that she was carrying a bag.
‘Ok. Not bad’, I smiled to myself.
‘What kept u guys so long?’
‘Traffic’ said Amisha, cutting in with a smile before Rahul started to answer.
‘You don’t have to lie’, I thought.
Then we moved to the table reserved for us. The place was less crowded.
’It’s a bit early’, I thought. The restaurant had many tables fitted in neatly in the small place; each table had a vase placed in the centre, with some flowers in them. The ambiance was good and the soft music was very soothing and romantic.
In not more than 5 minutes Shruthi joined us. ‘Hi kids!’, Shruthi said in her sweet voice. I always loved her voice and her cheerful tone.
‘Hi’ we chorused back. She took a chair near Rahul. Quite predictable for a girl friend. And then she laid out a box in front of me. I knew what it was though I pretended like I dint care.
‘There is no need for that. You know this is for u’, she said with a smile and pushed the box towards me. As I was opening my box, she said ‘Happy Birthday’. I smiled back and noticed that the card read ‘From us!’ .Very typical of her and Rahul. Then Amisha gave me her present. A hand made card and a hand made jewel box ; typical of her too. Shruthi and Amisha excused themselves to the restroom. Rahul got a call he went outside to attend it as the signal was quite bad inside the building.
I was touched by the effort Amisha has taken for my sake; felt it was the act of true love. But few people I knew thought otherwise, like she was too lazy and miserly to get a present.
‘Let’s not get into that. That did not matter much.’ I said to myself. ‘What mattered much was I’m very happy and content at this moment.’
The surroundings, gifts and spending an evening with my close pals, had had that effect on me. There was also the prospect of meeting someone whom I have not met in like a year, and had always wanted to meet once I graduated out of college, also was hoping to exchange a word or two with him. Rishi Kumar was my college mate.
‘Ok. Ok. Not just college mate’ I smiled.
I meet him on my first train journey back home. Never did I know him or have seen him before, but I was mildly interested then.
‘The actual story would go on for pages.’ I thought reminiscently.
The fact was that, this “mildly interested” thing - fuelled by numerous “Info” and accidental meetings- slowly became “interested” and “liking” and much more.
The news of he, being a guy so close to my heart, slowly became a universal secret. Though he was aware of this entire episode he never responded. This encouraged my feelings even further. Never did I realize that it was not because he dint care that he dint respond but because he was not interested. This came as a huge blow; the only guy that I ever fell for is not interested in me.
‘Hullo! Madam, are we going to order?’! They had all come back just then. ‘I had an early lunch and I’m starving. Moreover this restaurant has a reputation of “quick” service’, Rahul said.
‘Hey! This place was your choice’, I said. ‘Ya u can go ahead. But I thought we can order once he too joined us’.
‘Who?’ questioned Amisha, who was un-characteristically silent for all this while, which was not at all a good sign. Not a good sign at all. I sensed some mischievous plan brewing inside.
I looked at Shruthi, who had this she-asked-u-not-me expression on her face.
‘Fine’ But I was saved the work, as I saw him enter the restaurant. ‘Now why do I have to have a silly smile on the face and why dose my heart race at this pace?’
Rhyme and Rhythm! These things happened every time when I saw him and that time was no exception. He was fast approaching us. As he came near our table, some one stopped him and started talking. As that guy happened to be a boss of Amisha and Rahul they left to greet him. ‘World is so small!’ I thought.
Even though I was aware of his feeling and he of mine, we had hardly spoken to each other, if you don’t consider the customary ‘hello’ when being introduced. We had been introduced at least a dozen times to each other, but he would not bother to smile back or act as if we knew each other the next time we came face-to-face. I have hated him for that. I knew and cared abt him in all ways that were possible. But people around me, who were kind of close to both of us said, ‘u r wasting time’.
‘I know’ I thought.
Why can’t he come soon and why cant the jerk who is been holding him talking something let him go?’ I thought.
Hah, finally he finished his long conversation and joined us at the table. ‘Don’t be so obvious. He is going to have a private laugh at u for this’. I said to myself and tried to look politely normal. Fate! Why does he have to sit next to me? I was becoming overly conscious again.
‘Shall we order?’ I asked to awkwardly. Amisha giggled. I wanted to stamp her feet and ask her to stay silent. Shruthi and Rishi started talking about some common friend of their. When I was slowly getting used to his presence, I tried to join the conversation but in vain. I couldn’t find any place where they came to a more common plane. So I let them carry on with their talks and turned to the menu card. When the waiter came, I looked at them all, and Shruthi said, ‘Let the B’Day baby order first’.
‘Ok’, I said. ‘I would like to have baby corn soup’. Suddenly Rishi said, ‘I would have one too’ and smiled. Continuing with the order as if I hadn’t heard this I said ‘And 2 butter rotis with aloo mutter’. ‘Make that two’, he said and smiled again. Damn what was his idea? I said ‘Apple milk shake’, which was followed by his ‘me too’. Now, this is the limit. Was he trying to embarrass me? I looked up from the menu book and saw him positively smiling at me. Why was he doing that? Unaware of this, the others were placing their orders. When I thought I could secretly steal another look at him, he was continuing his conversation with Shruthi again. This time Rahul was also a part. Slowly the conversation shifted to a more known area – college. Each one reminiscently told some incidents of their college days. I have heard Shruthi’s and Amisha’s story over and over again, I could tell those stories as they would tell. Rahul had so many funny stories to add, and when we were having a great time, the food arrived bringing me back to the present. The time between the order- and serving was so fun-filled that I quite forgot about the thing that I had sworn to myself that I would tell them.
‘I don’t have to tell them’, I had contemplated. Though there were differences and bitter memories amongst us, they were the people I cared about so much, that I wanted them to know this. They were the people who stood by my side not only during happy moments but also during tough times. I dint realize that I had abandoned the act of eating and had become so absorbed with the spoon, until Rahul asked ‘Oi! What’s up?’
That was my cue. I started ‘Hmm.’. ‘No, how the hell did I think I could pull it through.’
‘U have to’, I told myself. I tried again ‘I just wanted to…Hmmm..u know….say this… well ..The thing is ….u know….’
‘Hey what’s wrong?’
I look at Shruthi with a blank stare. She shook me and asked ‘WHAT?’
I told myself, ‘It’s now or never’. With sudden rush of emotion I said ‘I’m going to get engaged!’ I had expected their reactions. But nothing I had ever expected had prepared me for that. They were looking at me as if I had lost my mind. I mastered my impulse and looked in his way. He was also wearing an odd look. Something was wrong or was I missing something important. Slowly Amisha asked “What about….?’ That was the last thing I wanted to hear and talk about. I dint want to answer, suddenly I felt very angry and I was urging to say “What about what? Of all the time u could have asked u dint and when I don’t want to hear that question u are asking me’. But I knew very well what the question actually meant. So I resigned to silence and stared at my spoon. Slowly my anger ebbed away and I felt like I have lost a very treasure-able possession. I felt like I was going to cry. I could not believe I could cry, for him.
When was the last time I cried for him? Second-year? I had vowed to myself that never again will I cry for some one. They were all still silent. Couldn’t they say something? Tears started pouring out from my eyes.
A hand gently rested on my shoulder. Feeling bad that I had spoiled their fun evening, I croaked ‘I’m sorry’ without even looking up. I heard another voice ‘I’m sorry too!’ It wouldn’t take a genius to guess the voice of a person who had been their passion for 4 years. In a surprise I turned around. The distance from which I heard the voice should have told me that he was very close by. I turned and looked up into his eyes. I felt like he had meant that he was sorry. Boring into those green eyes, I felt all those years of longing, waiting and anticipation over power me. I wished I would not cry. He slowly inched forward and as lightly as a breeze brushed his lips on my cheek. Man, what was he doing? With confusion and a slight blush I looked at him. He slowly arranged my hair lock that was falling on my forehead.
Hoooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
Even in that bliss, I thought, ‘What a weird ring tone?’
Hoooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
The sound had partly brought me back and I started to wonder ‘Why can’t he just pick it up?’
*
I felt a tug on my left sleeve. I turned and saw my colleague Pranathi staring at me. Wasn’t Amisha supposed to be there? Where is she?
Hoooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
Da, just pick it up. Or just cut it out.
Hoooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
‘Will ya just cut it out?’
“Cut it out, I will. But u will miss your stop’. I heard Pranathi say.
‘What the…?’
I croakily said, ‘Have we reached?’
A sense of loss washed over me. ‘We are almost there. What’s up? Night-out effect? It was like the hundredth time I called u?’ I know she was talking to me. I barely heard. The tears seemed real. She was still talking. She gave me a slight push and said ‘Move on’.
“Ya I need to move on! “
*
*
I had reached the Crammin restaurant. It was a cool and breezy evening in Bangalore and I was waiting for my friends to come and join me. Just then I had called Amisha and it seemed like she is on her way along with her colleague Rahul. Shruthi already had told me she will a bit late. They were my best pals and we were meeting after a very long time.
I spent the next few minutes window shopping and looking at my watch and finally, Amisha and Rahul arrived. I saw that she was carrying a bag.
‘Ok. Not bad’, I smiled to myself.
‘What kept u guys so long?’
‘Traffic’ said Amisha, cutting in with a smile before Rahul started to answer.
‘You don’t have to lie’, I thought.
Then we moved to the table reserved for us. The place was less crowded.
’It’s a bit early’, I thought. The restaurant had many tables fitted in neatly in the small place; each table had a vase placed in the centre, with some flowers in them. The ambiance was good and the soft music was very soothing and romantic.
In not more than 5 minutes Shruthi joined us. ‘Hi kids!’, Shruthi said in her sweet voice. I always loved her voice and her cheerful tone.
‘Hi’ we chorused back. She took a chair near Rahul. Quite predictable for a girl friend. And then she laid out a box in front of me. I knew what it was though I pretended like I dint care.
‘There is no need for that. You know this is for u’, she said with a smile and pushed the box towards me. As I was opening my box, she said ‘Happy Birthday’. I smiled back and noticed that the card read ‘From us!’ .Very typical of her and Rahul. Then Amisha gave me her present. A hand made card and a hand made jewel box ; typical of her too. Shruthi and Amisha excused themselves to the restroom. Rahul got a call he went outside to attend it as the signal was quite bad inside the building.
I was touched by the effort Amisha has taken for my sake; felt it was the act of true love. But few people I knew thought otherwise, like she was too lazy and miserly to get a present.
‘Let’s not get into that. That did not matter much.’ I said to myself. ‘What mattered much was I’m very happy and content at this moment.’
The surroundings, gifts and spending an evening with my close pals, had had that effect on me. There was also the prospect of meeting someone whom I have not met in like a year, and had always wanted to meet once I graduated out of college, also was hoping to exchange a word or two with him. Rishi Kumar was my college mate.
‘Ok. Ok. Not just college mate’ I smiled.
I meet him on my first train journey back home. Never did I know him or have seen him before, but I was mildly interested then.
‘The actual story would go on for pages.’ I thought reminiscently.
The fact was that, this “mildly interested” thing - fuelled by numerous “Info” and accidental meetings- slowly became “interested” and “liking” and much more.
The news of he, being a guy so close to my heart, slowly became a universal secret. Though he was aware of this entire episode he never responded. This encouraged my feelings even further. Never did I realize that it was not because he dint care that he dint respond but because he was not interested. This came as a huge blow; the only guy that I ever fell for is not interested in me.
‘Hullo! Madam, are we going to order?’! They had all come back just then. ‘I had an early lunch and I’m starving. Moreover this restaurant has a reputation of “quick” service’, Rahul said.
‘Hey! This place was your choice’, I said. ‘Ya u can go ahead. But I thought we can order once he too joined us’.
‘Who?’ questioned Amisha, who was un-characteristically silent for all this while, which was not at all a good sign. Not a good sign at all. I sensed some mischievous plan brewing inside.
I looked at Shruthi, who had this she-asked-u-not-me expression on her face.
‘Fine’ But I was saved the work, as I saw him enter the restaurant. ‘Now why do I have to have a silly smile on the face and why dose my heart race at this pace?’
Rhyme and Rhythm! These things happened every time when I saw him and that time was no exception. He was fast approaching us. As he came near our table, some one stopped him and started talking. As that guy happened to be a boss of Amisha and Rahul they left to greet him. ‘World is so small!’ I thought.
Even though I was aware of his feeling and he of mine, we had hardly spoken to each other, if you don’t consider the customary ‘hello’ when being introduced. We had been introduced at least a dozen times to each other, but he would not bother to smile back or act as if we knew each other the next time we came face-to-face. I have hated him for that. I knew and cared abt him in all ways that were possible. But people around me, who were kind of close to both of us said, ‘u r wasting time’.
‘I know’ I thought.
Why can’t he come soon and why cant the jerk who is been holding him talking something let him go?’ I thought.
Hah, finally he finished his long conversation and joined us at the table. ‘Don’t be so obvious. He is going to have a private laugh at u for this’. I said to myself and tried to look politely normal. Fate! Why does he have to sit next to me? I was becoming overly conscious again.
‘Shall we order?’ I asked to awkwardly. Amisha giggled. I wanted to stamp her feet and ask her to stay silent. Shruthi and Rishi started talking about some common friend of their. When I was slowly getting used to his presence, I tried to join the conversation but in vain. I couldn’t find any place where they came to a more common plane. So I let them carry on with their talks and turned to the menu card. When the waiter came, I looked at them all, and Shruthi said, ‘Let the B’Day baby order first’.
‘Ok’, I said. ‘I would like to have baby corn soup’. Suddenly Rishi said, ‘I would have one too’ and smiled. Continuing with the order as if I hadn’t heard this I said ‘And 2 butter rotis with aloo mutter’. ‘Make that two’, he said and smiled again. Damn what was his idea? I said ‘Apple milk shake’, which was followed by his ‘me too’. Now, this is the limit. Was he trying to embarrass me? I looked up from the menu book and saw him positively smiling at me. Why was he doing that? Unaware of this, the others were placing their orders. When I thought I could secretly steal another look at him, he was continuing his conversation with Shruthi again. This time Rahul was also a part. Slowly the conversation shifted to a more known area – college. Each one reminiscently told some incidents of their college days. I have heard Shruthi’s and Amisha’s story over and over again, I could tell those stories as they would tell. Rahul had so many funny stories to add, and when we were having a great time, the food arrived bringing me back to the present. The time between the order- and serving was so fun-filled that I quite forgot about the thing that I had sworn to myself that I would tell them.
‘I don’t have to tell them’, I had contemplated. Though there were differences and bitter memories amongst us, they were the people I cared about so much, that I wanted them to know this. They were the people who stood by my side not only during happy moments but also during tough times. I dint realize that I had abandoned the act of eating and had become so absorbed with the spoon, until Rahul asked ‘Oi! What’s up?’
That was my cue. I started ‘Hmm.’. ‘No, how the hell did I think I could pull it through.’
‘U have to’, I told myself. I tried again ‘I just wanted to…Hmmm..u know….say this… well ..The thing is ….u know….’
‘Hey what’s wrong?’
I look at Shruthi with a blank stare. She shook me and asked ‘WHAT?’
I told myself, ‘It’s now or never’. With sudden rush of emotion I said ‘I’m going to get engaged!’ I had expected their reactions. But nothing I had ever expected had prepared me for that. They were looking at me as if I had lost my mind. I mastered my impulse and looked in his way. He was also wearing an odd look. Something was wrong or was I missing something important. Slowly Amisha asked “What about….?’ That was the last thing I wanted to hear and talk about. I dint want to answer, suddenly I felt very angry and I was urging to say “What about what? Of all the time u could have asked u dint and when I don’t want to hear that question u are asking me’. But I knew very well what the question actually meant. So I resigned to silence and stared at my spoon. Slowly my anger ebbed away and I felt like I have lost a very treasure-able possession. I felt like I was going to cry. I could not believe I could cry, for him.
When was the last time I cried for him? Second-year? I had vowed to myself that never again will I cry for some one. They were all still silent. Couldn’t they say something? Tears started pouring out from my eyes.
A hand gently rested on my shoulder. Feeling bad that I had spoiled their fun evening, I croaked ‘I’m sorry’ without even looking up. I heard another voice ‘I’m sorry too!’ It wouldn’t take a genius to guess the voice of a person who had been their passion for 4 years. In a surprise I turned around. The distance from which I heard the voice should have told me that he was very close by. I turned and looked up into his eyes. I felt like he had meant that he was sorry. Boring into those green eyes, I felt all those years of longing, waiting and anticipation over power me. I wished I would not cry. He slowly inched forward and as lightly as a breeze brushed his lips on my cheek. Man, what was he doing? With confusion and a slight blush I looked at him. He slowly arranged my hair lock that was falling on my forehead.
Hoooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
Even in that bliss, I thought, ‘What a weird ring tone?’
Hoooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
The sound had partly brought me back and I started to wonder ‘Why can’t he just pick it up?’
*
I felt a tug on my left sleeve. I turned and saw my colleague Pranathi staring at me. Wasn’t Amisha supposed to be there? Where is she?
Hoooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
Da, just pick it up. Or just cut it out.
Hoooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
‘Will ya just cut it out?’
“Cut it out, I will. But u will miss your stop’. I heard Pranathi say.
‘What the…?’
I croakily said, ‘Have we reached?’
A sense of loss washed over me. ‘We are almost there. What’s up? Night-out effect? It was like the hundredth time I called u?’ I know she was talking to me. I barely heard. The tears seemed real. She was still talking. She gave me a slight push and said ‘Move on’.
“Ya I need to move on! “
*
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