Like the stained jean tucked behind all the other clothes in the dark side of the almirah, she had locked the room with the stained memories of a past, which felt exciting and marvellous during its present.
Continue reading “A Signature to New Dawn”‘Count the number of steps while you climb and then you will know how impactful the fall will be’
Anu’s Diary
In the darkest hour of the night, between the closure of the four concrete walls, with none other than her solitude to keep her company, she opened the laptop that was laid on table and turned it on. The laptop was a newcomer to her room but it was a familiar one Like a lion unleashed from its cage, light raged out from the laptop and spread around her.
“Enlightened”, she mumbled, laughing at herself. She waited, listening to the music which accompanied the start of the operating system.
“Music soothes”, she said to no one.
The Gift
” I did not expect a gift. See there is no need for giving me anything to show that you care. I know you do”, she told gazing at the beauty of the precious platinum bracelet that adorned her right hand. Clearly her face expressed the happiness but she was too concerned about the gift and her voice boomed the concern.
He sat silently the whole time and then slowly leaned onto her shoulder. She smiled and pulled his head closer to her lap and started nuzzling his wavy hair and with the other hand pulled one or two hairs of his thick black beard. He shuddered slightly , faking a pain and she burst into laughter. Reaching for her hand, he pulled it and moved it closer to his heart and examined the bracelet that ornated her hand.
“What?”, she exclaimed as she bent and lied on his shoulder. The heat of her breath on his sturdy arms made his heart skip a beat. With an immediate move, he turned and brought her over him. She laughed as she struggled to move out but he held her firm. Finally she gave in and snuggled deeper, feeling the warmth and coziness. Her hair smelt of a mixture of her hair oil and the jasmine perfume that she had applied behind her earlobes. The smell itself was rejuvenating and he kissed her on her temples.
“Memento”, he whispered in her ears.
“What?”, she exclaimed without lifting her head up. Again the hot breath and he felt a tickle run down his spine
” the bracelet is a memento for you to remember…”, he continued. ” Remember the moments of togetherness, the moments that we spent together, the fun ones or the fight ones. Whenever you look at it, something or the other about us will drift into your mind from your heart and that will bloom a tiny smile on your rosy lips.” He could feel her smiling , her head hidden upon his chest.
” Or in the long run to the far future, where if at all you have to spend the time devoid of me in the picture, these mementos will bring me back to you, the memories of us and that will bring tiny joyful trinkets of tears in your eyes.”
She suddenly looked up and he could see her eyes welled up with the same trinkets . He smiled at her as he wiped those little pearls awaywith the back of his hand. ” Gifts are mementos for a lifetime. Mementos of memories that you need to cherish of the person who gifted it to you”
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Durga
From 3 seats behind, jammed in the middle between two plump passengers, I tilted my head and took a peek at her. The curls of her hair had stood up, thanks to the wind and open windows of the bus. I could make out the corner of her eye, a red rose pimple and a sweaty portion of her face.
From 3 seats behind, jammed in the middle between two plump passengers, I tilted my head and took a peek at her. The curls of her hair had stood up, thanks to the wind and open windows of the bus. I could make out the corner of her eye, a red rose pimple and a sweaty portion of her face.
“Excuse me”, I heard a grumpy voice and it was the man sitting next to me.
“Do you want to switch seat? He asked, his voice high-pitched, matching his stature. His voice did not match the expression on his face which was a mischievous smile. He then turned to the other side and I knew he was looking at her.
“Your girl?” he queried.
I blushed slightly and shied away. “Soon”, I whispered. “Going to propose her on my next holidays.”
” Where are you working?
For this question, I proudly lifted my head, draining the rose color off my cheeks, spreading a toughness all over. “Army”, I said, “Captain Ranjandas, BSF”, I extended my hand towards him. His face changed from mischief to respect as he shook hand with me. “Nice to meet you”, he replied.
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“Jana”, he heard the voice again. He hated to open his eyes as it was such a beautiful dream. Everything felt like it had happened yesterday. Few seasons have gone by after that and his journey had taken new directions after quite a bumpy ride. But the images were still colorful and stayed the same.
When was the last time he met her? A week before, maybe 2-3 days back but should he care. Days passed, so did weeks and months but it was not a matter of his concern now. Every day was just another day and nothing else.
“Jana, wake up”, the voice again. He lazily opened his eyes. His mother was standing right next to him near his work table. “Another powernap?” she queried as she ran her fingers through his thick and flowing hair. “You need a haircut”, she said nonchalantly as she kept the coffee cup and snacks on the table. Then only did Jana notice that his mother was dressed up. “Where are you off to? He asked, taking the coffee cup in his hand as he snuggled deep into his chair. “Call from the NGO”, she said as she leaned onto the table.
“Seriously ma! On a Sunday”, his voice expressed the anger. “We had plans”
“Yeah, I know. But it is an NGO and I as a responsible person is needed at such odd times, kanna!” she put on a smile as she tried to explain the situation. “By the way, what is this”, she pointed to a partly chiselled wooden block on his table.
“That’s to make a cricket bat for Tarun”. Tarun was the grandson of their neighbour, Kavitha Aunty whom he had known from his childhood days. Aunt’s daughter, Aswani, Mitra and he were child hood playmates who regularly traumatized their mothers by their mischievous tantrums. Aswani was few years older but she was the tom boy and obviously the leader. But now, a matured and talented engineer, an entirely different girl whom he used to know. She had dropped in for a visit with Tarun last week and that was when Tarun expressed the wish for a handmade cricket bat after seeing his carpentry work shop.
Jana knew he was good. It’s been more than a year since he left the army. He had remodelled his dad’s workshop. His dad had also been in the army and carpentry, his holiday hobby. From small wooden artefacts to much bigger crafty works, his father had an expertise in it. He knew he had inherited the same passion from childhood and remembered the times when they both used to sit together and do some work there. Till the major attack that terrorized the country a few years before. His father too was in the team and had went in with a smile but came back draped in the tricolour. He remembered his father’s martyrdom being celebrated, the man who served his country and died for his country. A year later, Jana was posted at Jammu. He had followed his father’s passion completely.
“Where are you, Jana?” his mother brought him back to the present. Jana smiled weakly as his gaze travelled towards the corner wall. His father looked handsome in the uniform and he felt an adrenaline rush as he saw the proud smile glowing on his father’s lips. Unlike the other picture in the living room, he had insisted his mother not to put a garland around the photo. The tricolour was neatly folded and placed on a stand below the pic. His dad’s silent and unseen presence was the only thing that triggered and motivated him now. Nothing else.
“Happy Birthday, Jana”, his mother suddenly shouted, closer to his ears.
“What is the big deal, ma? “ He irked but was surprised when he saw Devamma and Mitra walk in with a cake. Mitra is here and he heard a church bell tolling merrily somewhere inside him. He hid the excitement that bloomed inside him and narrowed his eyes as to maintain the serious composure. He smiled at all of them.
“Thank you”, he muttered as he watched Mitra lay the cake on the table.
Mitra was dressed slightly gaudily. She looked bright in her cream and peach silk salwar which he had gifted during her last birthday. Maybe, another bride seeing process in the morning and the thought made him grim but the very next instant, he covered it up with another plastic smile.
As they sang the chorus which never got into his ears clearly, he cut the cake, unperturbed by all the excitements that happened around him and held out a piece. His mother and Devamma took a bite and gave him back. All these while, from the corner of his eyes, he watched Mitra clicking the pictures.
“For how many more birthdays, Mitra”, he wanted to blast at her for the childishness but controlled his tongue.
“Jana, I am leaving. It’s already late”, his mother told and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Devamma will be here till I come and I do presume Mitra too will be here for a while.” She looked at Mitra and Mitra nodded as she understood the signal in his mother’s voice. He looked at the clock. It was nearly 5 in the evening. Tarun had asked for the bat tomorrow morning. Jana turned towards his table and started chiseling away the wood. He saw his mother and Devamma walk out of the room. Mitra stood on the other end of the table as she watched him work. “You may sit”, he pointed at the chair. She didn’t reply but walked towards the chair and sat. Recently, a wall of silence had started forming between them and they were well aware of it. But Jana knew he was the one who was actively building it. Mitra had tried to stop but had withdrawn gradually after she saw his stubbornness and closed nature.
He then remembered the incident that he dreamed before. He had plans on proposing her on the next holidays but there was never a next holiday. That was his last trip to border and he had returned few weeks later and that too forever.
He shook off his thoughts and continued to work. Suddenly, the chisel slipped and fell on the floor. In a reflex, he tried to bent down and take it. But next moment, he realised the irony. The spine is now erect and the legs numb. How will he pick up the fallen chisel when half his body was glued onto this stupid chair…? He had fallen on the ground that day at the border and after wards, had never felt the ground.
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“Wow! That’s a beautiful piece of art” Surjit exclaimed as he examined the golden band kept inside the box. I smiled at him, feeling happy as my selected choice had been admired.
“From where did you buy this, yaar?”
“Delhi”, I replied and snatched back the box from him. Her image from the bus had been playing inside my mind all the time. That was the first time she had ever accompanied me to the railway station, smiling throughout at me whenever our eyes met and I knew what it was. I had been planning for long but her smile assured me that the time had come. And that consent made me get the band for her.
“I have a surprise”, I had told this to her at the railway station.
“What?” she queried shyly.
“Will tell you on the next holidays.”
“When?” she had asked, a tone of slight despondence in her melodious voice and instantaneously I hugged her and told “Soon”
“Bhai, Where are you?” Surjit knocked me on the head and that brought me back to where I was. At the border, chatting with my friend, proudly showing off the ring that will make her solely mine. I looked at the box that held the ring. It was a walnut box ornate with gold and silver embossing outside. The ring was magnificent but the box that held it was equally stunning. I played the episode of proposal that I had imagined, in my head all over once more. “Bhai, you are really lucky”, I heard Surjit say and I beamed in joy. Yes, I was and forever will be. I believed so.
My thoughts were interrupted by a thunderous noise from outside followed by the noise of a shower of gunshots. “Bhai, we need to go”, I heard Surjit say and I immediately tucked the ring inside my backpack and rushed outside, along with him.
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Jana shuddered. The images were still vivid. After all, he was not really that lucky as Surjit had told. A time has come in his life that Jana loved to believe death was better than life. Death was the freedom that he never got but received a life imprisonment, getting stuck onto the stupid wheel chair. He yearned to stand on his legs which he knew he never could and he was angry. Fate had ruined him, his life and he had to let go the dreams that he had dreamt to transform into reality.
“I am not helpless”, he convinced himself. Jana tightened his grip on the armrest of his wheel chair. His face muscles also tightened with beads of sweat rolling off the edges as he tried hard to push himself up. But the backward pull from the rest of his lifeless body was stronger. “I shall win today”, he muttered as he increased the force. A spasm of pain seeped through his arms and back, till where he could feel and he groaned in pain. He could hear Mitra walking towards him, the twinkling sound of her anklets increasing as she came closer. Suddenly he withdrew himself back into the chair and the next instant pushed with all his might.
“Jana…” he heard her muffled voice. Her arms were around him but he refused to help himself get off the ground. The chisel was lying at an arm distance from him. He struggled to get out of her arms and reached out for the chisel. “The ground is too cold. I can feel it”, he lay back on the ground. He closed his eyes as he lay on the ground, resting his head on her lap, with the chisel held tightly in his right hand. He listened her cry: her hushed voice, her fast breath, the tired sighs and then he imagined her face.
“What happened to us?” he heard her ask but opted not to reply. She was warm and he felt the comfort he had lost all the way while laying his head on her lap. This warmth which could never be mine, he thought.
A little later, Jana finally opened his eyes and looked at her. She had wiped away her tears but sadness emanated all over her face.
“Where is my birthday gift?” Jana queried faking a curious tone in his voice. She laughed weakly and then took his head as she tried to stand. With all her might that she had in her, she helped Jana get back into the chair. “Again, you imprisoned me”, Jana told. She did not utter a word in reply but pushed his wheel chair towards the balcony door. She went ahead and opened the door. As soon as she opened the door, the evening rays gushed in t the rom as if they were waiting impatiently outside, waiting to enter. Jana turned his face away as he was not used to this light. He hated it now. The warmth of the air, the evening sun, the wind and the merry voices which he heard from outside: he hated everything. He was happy in his secluded world: the darkness of his room which had slowly begun to seep and blanket his mind, the stuffy smell of his workshop mainly because he had ceased to open the windows and the balcony. He was too used to it. The seclusion and loneliness owned him completely and he had left everything…and everyone. His friends from the army, the caring neighbours and even her. All for good, he made himself believe it.
“Jana”, she called him. “What were you thinking?” she asked.
“Nothing. I was thinking about the life of men like me”, he lied.
“What is there to think about?” she asked. She leaned towards the iron railings .Her curly hair was left open and he saw the light seeping in through her hair, shivering as her hair danced along with the cool breeze.
“What is there to think about, Jana”, she asked again, her voice a little irritated by the fact that he was too immersed into himself.
“Nothing, Mitra”, he looked into the infinite and cleared his voice. “If we die, our martyrdom is celebrated and we are remembered. I am not dead but a living dead and even I don’t want to remember what I was or what I am now.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Now, buried beneath the tricolour are my dreams, Mitra. My mother’s dreams too”, his voice was a little husky and he tried hard to control his tears.
Mitra walked towards him and then pushed his wheel chair out into the balcony.
“The four walls of the house and the closed windows of this workshop have inched inside you, Jana. And it have grown, rooted to the deep and I can feel the concrete walls around your heart”
He didn’t say anything because whatever she said was the truth. And the truth hurts.
“Why the hell do you care, Mitra? You are richer than me, girl. You got legs and you can walk. You have a life of your own. But look at me. I need someone to help me even to pee.” Jana blasted.
Mitra listened without saying anything. Then she went towards him and knelt down in front. She wiped the few tears that have managed to escape from his eyes with her shawl.He pushed her hands away and looked down.
“Jana, we think we don’t have anything even if we have the comfort to live. We mourn and lament on the happiness we wish to have but forget to be happy with whatever we have.”
“Go away, Mitra”, he snapped
“You are pushing me away from you for long just because of the fact that you do care about me. I can feel it even if it is hidden inside that four great walls you created.” he lifted his face and looked at her.
“You know”, she smiled mischievously. “I am done waiting”, he looked at her doubtfully. “This is my birthday gift for you” saying this she then reached for her salwar pocket.
“Will you marry me?” she took out the ring and extended towards him.
“What?” he shouted as he switched his gaze between her and the ring.
“Happy Birthday Jana…” she hugged him and then backed off to maintain her one knee down posture, pasting an appeasing and equally pleading look on her face, not hiding her mischievous smile. He continued to remain on his no noise mode and this made Mitra a little bit irritated.
“You know, I have been waiting to hear from you for long. Do you remember that time when I accompanied you till the railway station, 2 years before? You had told me that on your next visit you will be coming with a surprise”.
“Yeah, but….” He was still in shock.
“But things didn’t turn out well and you were hospitalised for long. After all the turmoil’s were over, I continued to wait for the surprise. But then you switched into this sober and secluded mode and then I felt lonely. Come on, Jana. Is that what you thought about me? That I will leave you like this and go on to enjoy another happy life which you think I would have.”
“No”, he felt his throat tighten as she searched for the right words. “I can’t give you anything in return, Mitra. I can’t give everything that a woman want from her man”
“But I need you, Jana. I want you as my man for the rest of my life. For you were there till now and you should be there till the story ends.” she continued “Dreamt this scene the other way around but no issues. Someone has to take the initiative if the other one is shy”, she broke into a laughter. Jana noticed how radiant and beautiful she was and cursed himself for being in his sober mood which pushed her into the same mood whenever she was with him. He leaned in and joined her laughter, enjoying the moment, holding onto it and forgetting all the sorrows that held him down. As the laughter died down, he walked back into the reality and then the irony hit him again. He was stuck onto his chair for the rest of her life and her joining him would make him a liability and not a lifelong asset of happiness for her. The very realisation made him writhe in pain. Meanwhile, she hadn’t noticed the change of mood in the air but continued to be in the fun mood.
“Come on! Say YES.” She leaped in joy. “My knees are hurting and I do presume girls are not used to doing this.” He knelt down and kissed her on the head. Steering his wheel chair away, he moved towards the balcony and started watching the setting sun. She felt confused by his action. Suddenly he pointed towards his father’s picture and the tricolour folded on the stand under.
“Buried under the tricolour is my dream, Mitra. The last remains of a very beautiful dream”
She didn’t understand and felt pointless for a second. She repeated the entire episode again in her mind. And then it hit her, the whole meaning hidden in his words. She looked at him and saw that he was still watching the sunset. Without wasting another second, she immediately rushed towards the corner of the wall which held his dad’s picture and the flag stand. Panting with tension and a slight anticipation, she slowly lifted the flag off the shelf.
Buried under the tricolour, she saw his dream. A hand carved walnut box embossed with silver and golden sequences. Slowly, she opened the box. A 2-year-old ring gleamed in joy as it met the person it had been waiting for long.
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-durga
Image Courtesy:Google Images
“I had lived with you. Remember.” Priya started. “From your childhood, I was always with you. We were friends, roommates. I was and I am your only family. she stopped and knelt closer towards Aathi. “Remember”
Link to previous chapter: https://myscribblessite.wordpress.com/2016/08/26/the-other-eyei-chapter-3/
“You are not real”, she murmured. Fear aroused from deep down somewhere inside her and gushed upstream like a hot spring. Without turning back, Aathi continued walking.
It was 4th of July, our wedding anniversary. Two years down the lane and it bought a smile to my face. We were having a bad week and he was talking less. He was quite bothered with me writing the masterpiece.” Sometimes, when you read out the manuscript, I feel more of her than you”, he had told me that day. I had shunned off his worries and had teased him a lot that day. How can I be her? She was too different from me. He had mentioned about me missing sometimes but I never remembered any of those. I was always there, wasn’t I? Or whether his worries were really true? Is it real that my character was controlling me? All that thoughts were put to rest when he walked in. There was a bouquet in his hands and his smile was radiant, lighting up the entire hall. I had ran to him and hugged him. Releasing himself from the embrace, he had kissed me and handed me the bouquet. I remember looking the bouquet. Wait, something was written on the card but what was it? That was the last time I remember seeing him. Where had he gone and what had happened to me? Who am I?
“You are not real”, Priya whispered coldly in Aathi’s ears. Aathi was startled to hear the voice so close. She turned back but there was no one. Cautiously, she drew out a knife from the rack. Hiding it behind her back, she walked into the living room. Priya was sitting there, her eyes gleaming with such an intensity that made Aathi retch with fear.
“Where is Chandu?” Aathi shouted.
Priya did not answer but stood at the same position without shift. She was not smiling anymore. “You tell me, Aathi. What did you do to him?”
“He is my husband and you are not real. You are just the character of my masterpiece.” Aathi shouted hysterically.
“You think so but it is not the truth. I am more than that and you are trying hard to not recollect that”, Priya challenged .
“As for Chandu, he was always mine and forever will be. It was me whom he loved. The stories and the blog. He fell in love with the creator. Once again, let me remind you that I am the writer, not you”. Priya stomped her foot harder on the floor as she said those words.
“That can’t be true. I created you in the first place. It was me who he loved,not you Priya. How could he love someone who doesn’t exist?”
“If I don’t exist, then what are you seeing?” she shook Aathi violently.
“No, it is not true. It can’t be. But how did I end up here? We lived at his place. It was our anniversary and the last memory about him was him handing me the flowers.” Aathi said to herself as she glanced at the withered bouquet.
“Yes, But now you are back. Back to the old apartment that smells of loneliness in every nook and corner.” Priya whispered in Aathi’s ears.
Aathi did not say anything but looked on the calendar attached onto the wall. It was July 18th. But the anniversary was on July 4th. What had happened in the past two weeks? Where is he? She felt confused as she continued to question herself. When did the reality intertwine with the imagination? Where had the story gone astray?
“Nowhere”, Priya told.
“How could you hear my thoughts?” Aathi was surprised.
“I had lived with you. Remember.” Priya started. “From your childhood, I was always with you. We were friends, roommates. I was and I am your only family. she stopped and knelt closer towards Aathi. “Remember”
It was long back but I don’t remember when. The house was the same but it had family. I remember her laughter, my mother’s. The dripping water from her hair on the morning woke me up. She would kneel down and brush her hair on my face. There were hugs too. The waft of the morning coffee that was kept closer to her reading table, the pendulum like oscillations of the rocking chair and one fine day, she was also oscillating. “Mommy, stop playing”, I had cried but I never knew that she would never be there for the many mornings that were yet to come. Was there a daddy? Yes, there was. I remember him walking away from me, out through the front door with a big suitcase in hand. “Daddy”, I had called but he never turned. Grandmother came and offered to stay. I was only eight and I was alone. There was a garden, somewhere in front of the house once, but the flowers were withered and the plants dead. Mommy had gone and so were them. There was a swing and I sat on that, trying in vain to soar sky high. But daddy was gone and so did the wings.
It was then she came and showered the love, cared like sibling and held me like a friend. I grew up with her, shared the stories and thoughts. My childhood worries, the teenage tantrums, the job tensions and finally the great love affair- She knew it all. And that day, she had left, two years before, without a word, unable to bear the pain of losing her friend.
Today, she is back but I don’t know for what???
“You know what I want, dear” Priya apprised and extended her hand closer to Aathi.
” I don’t..I don’t really want to know that. All I want is my life back but I am lost”, Aathi cried out loud.
Her tears never took the path but got stuck in her eyes. Priya wiped the tiny droplets from Aathi’s eyes and comforted her.
” It was always our story and it will be. The same story where it is just you and me against the world” Priya told as she bent over towards Aathi and touched the knife she held in the back of her hand. “Put that down”, she commanded.
Aathi loosened herself from Priya and stepped back a few inches thoughtfully. She could feel the chaos inside her head, waiting to explode like a bomb. All of a sudden, she smiled back at her.
“No…”, Priya cried out loud as she witnessed in shock what Aathi did the next moment.
to be continued……
-durga
Image Courtesy: Google
Everything is picture perfect in the story you write. But is it so? In the story of your life? Aathi was confused and so was Priya. Chandu was caught in the ruckus, so was Vijay. The silent wind and the rocking swing witnessed everything from the position they stayed.. so was THE OTHER EYE(I)
They say it takes only a second to fall in love. Whoever said so, they are right. Maybe, not just a second but it is easy to fall in love. It may happen in the oddest circumstances and sometimes between the two persons who everyone thinks are incompatible. Love is like a drug and once it hits you, it sedate you and put you in a world of dreams. You are the king or queen there with the ultimate power. Everything in the kingdom happens in accordance with your wish. Everything feels picture perfect just like the way you wanted. But………… Continue reading “THE OTHER EYE(I)- Chapter 1”
“I am protecting her, idiot”, he heard it reply back to him. “You failed to, at first. Now let me help her.”
Sanju hung his head in shame. What it said was absolutely true. He had failed at that moment when she needed him the most. He really did not know whether he wanted her to wake up or not. What would he explain to her when he clearly doesn’t have any?……
It was nearly 11 pm at night. Sanju shut his eyes harder, turned sideways restlessly on the small single cot that could barely hold him, trying in vain to lay still at times so that he could get some sleep. But inside his brain and heart, there was a ruckus and a major turbulence playing out, loud enough for his ears which made him feel blood would spew out through the opening. He could picture many things happening to him as if in a dream but he knew he was not asleep. It’s been a week since his sleep parted ways with him and now he feels it being a total stranger to him. That vexatious stranger who, if comes to him would haunt with those shady and grim night mares. In all those night mares that he saw, the visuals were faded and grainy but the voices were crystal clear that it made him shiver in pain: Her feeble voice.
He twisted his legs and turned towards the main bed, facing her. He could hardly see her but knew that she was asleep. The stranger to him was now a close friend of hers, similar to an old acquaintance not wanting to leave just because he is too obsessed with her.
“Leave her alone. I need her”, He shouted into the void, breaking the air of silence that surrounded him and her.
“I am protecting her, idiot”, he heard it reply back to him. “You failed to, at first. Now let me help her.”
Sanju hung his head in shame. What it said was absolutely true. He had failed at that moment when she needed him the most. He really did not know whether he wanted her to wake up or not. What would he explain to her when he clearly doesn’t have any?
He stood up and then thought of going near her but soon put that tiny thought aside because that may disturb her. He had seen her startle in her sleep when nurses or doctors came to check her. It was common in such cases, they would say and then leave. Yes, for them, she was just another case, a patient who needs their attention. “But not for me”, he wanted to tell them. She was afraid and hurt badly. He too was, but he questioned whether the pain that inflicted him was due to that incident or something else.
The slight knock on the door brought him back to reality. Sanju hurried and opened the door.
“Sir, the injection”, the nurse mumbled in a low voice as she walked in, not waiting for his reply or consent.
“Yes, you may”, he muttered and then walked towards the window in the left corner of the room. A small thud on the door indicated that the nurse had done her job and left. He did not look back but fixated his gaze towards the city that he could view from there. Outside he heard the occasional voices of a car or a truck passing through the main road. Apart from that, he was surrounded by total silence. He closed his eyes and tried to listen. Even though he stood a few yards away from her, he heard her breathing; slowly and gradually, as if she was trying hard each time, just to take the air in through the oxygen valve. She was with a bunch of tubes and blinking machines that made sure that she is alive. Sanju badly wanted to be near her but let the thought bypass because if she wake-up in between, she would feel sad. That was the last thing Sanju ever wanted. Her eyes should not well up, never again. Because the last time, he witnessed her tears, he felt his whole world shatter like a castle of cards blown away by the wind. His whole world had changed. Things were different a week before. All that took to change their life was a single night. That dreaded night…
Sanju brushed aside his troubled thoughts and walked towards the open window. From their single room in the 10th floor, the open window offered him a magnificent view of the beautiful city. He could see the burning street lights and also spot out some people walking, merrily in the less chaotic roads. Previously, they also used to walk together, traversing the narrow roads and through the mushy traffic during the evening. Sometimes, they would extend their evening walks, sitting on the chair by the lake side and watch the city change its blanket of heavy traffic to serene beauty of bright lit yellow lanterns. Suhra would lean onto his shoulder and watch the ripples of the Vembanad lake and then mutter in his ears,” Sitting here, I feel like I am living in a dream.” She would then walk up, swaying her legs and float like an angel, dancing through the pathway. He would sit at the same place, watching her. They had each other, just each other because they had defied their parents, broke the barriers of the religion that separated them like a great wall. Together, they had taken the journey from the northern paradise of the Kerala into the lap of this city, their only resort, their Home.
Sanju felt his cheek wet and he knew he had cried. His beloved was still asleep, and he doubted whether she remembers the entire traumatic experience she had to encounter or whether the traces of it. That night, her beloved city had shown her the other face, the ugly face that it keeps hidden beneath the beautiful veil of those glittery yellow lights. Suhra had seen and experienced the darkness, the viciousness and the pain and she had fallen. And Sanju waited. Besides the window, he stood and waited for the dawn, for the eastern Sun to rise and along with it, for his beloved to wake up from her slumber.
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What had happened that night? It was on their trip back to home from a lazy evening at the lake side and a candle lit dinner at her favourite restaurant. She was laughing throughout the entire evening, her voice jingling and exuberating the happiness. He had asked her the reason but she simply nodded and then started humming a song. He could not remember the song, neither could remember what had happened after they were hit by something from behind. When he woke up, he heard the sirens, the blurry visions of people moving around and yes, the police were there.
“Suhra”, and he went back to sleep.
“Nothing had happened, Sanju”, the doctor assured him. He was sitting near the bedside of Suhra. A lot of wires were attached onto her body, the big digital box was alive and he could see the red, blue and yellow lines on it, some random numbers increasing or decreasing time to time. He could not decipher anything but he knew she was asleep. For a long time.
” Sanju, you there?” the doctor inquired.
“Yeah”, he mumbled, his eyes still glued onto her face. It was calm and beautiful.
“The men on the bike hit from behind. You lost consciousness immediately. Suhra was awake and they tried to drag her and take her along with them. She put up a fight but they retaliated. Maybe at a point, all she could do was to give up. Luckily, there were some construction workers passing by and they made sound and ran towards you people.”
” Hmm”, Sanju was crying. The doctor patted him on his shoulder. “The bikers escaped and those workers took you here. Her condition was a little bad.”
“When will she wake up?”
The doctor opted a moment of silence this time.
” She is in a coma. Just give her some time and…”
“And….” Sanju asked hopefully.
“Your love and support.”
***********************************************************************
Sanju did not know how long he had stayed there. It was nearly dawn and tiny slivers of the morning light drifted through the open window towards the bedside, hitting Suhra’s face. She slightly stirred as if disturbed by the light. Sanju decided to pull out the curtains. The street lights were still on and the road was blanketed by thin fog. The red and orange streaks of the rising Sun and the burning city light added to the elegance of the place.There were a few cars on the road, cutting through the blanket and traversing their way.
He wondered whether he would be able to walk out into the open, freely and undisturbed by the train of thoughts that kept him in tension. From the day 1 in the hospital, he had opted to stay inside the room, away from the outside chaos and most importantly, far from those scavengers. They had rushed in with pen and papers, video cameras, microphones and a lot of devices, covering everything on the way. He had seen some of the visuals and the stories in different channels on the first day. Suhra had been now tagged as ‘the girl’, ‘the victim’ and he the only family. Watching TV made him realize that they had lost their identity and it only made things worse. He knew what would happen in such cases. These so-called predators will hunt them down, robbing off their privacy and wearing a chef’s attire, would cook them with adequate ingredients to make a bestselling dish and serve that 24 hours to the hungry customers who are waiting for something sensational. There were many different chefs and they served the same dish but with different garnishing. The legacy continues for a long time until they get a new recipe. Then the dish becomes old and stereotyped and will be shelved. Occasionally, some chefs will take those out when they have nothing new and add some other flavors and present again. But for the customers, the recipe will be old and they whine and complain and crave for new. He remembered that he too was in that league before but now, he understood how bad it is to be on the other side.
A knock on the door put him back to reality. Sanju was surprised to see a young girl, standing by the door. She looked thin, probably 12 or 13 year old. A small tube was attached on her right hand with some bandages.
“Hi”, she greeted as he walked into the room.
“Hi”, Sanju replied, slightly astonished to see her at such an early time and that too alone.
“I am from the next room”, the girl introduced herself but her look was fixated on Suhra.
“I haven’t seen you here before”, Sanju told
“Yeah, New admission. Between, your wife is really beautiful”, she turned towards him.
Sanju smiled weakly.
“Do you miss her?” the girl asked.
Sanju did not know whether to answer or not. First of all, this girl, a total stranger had come in to the room, like someone familiar and had started to shower a bunch of questions, which he felt were quite big enough to hear from the mouth of a young girl.
“Hey, I asked you something”, the girl reminded him again
“Yeah, I do. But first, tell me who you are.”
“Told. The new admission”
“But….” Sanju could not complete the sentence as he saw the little girl holding Suhra’s hand. He looked at Suhra and noticed that she was smiling.
“She is smiling”, Sanju exclaimed in joy as he rushed towards the bed side. The girl smiled but did not move from her position.
“You want to know what she is thinking”, the girl asked.
“Yeah. I badly want it. It’s been a week and amidst…”
“Sh…” the girl cut him off. Shee signaled Sanju to come closer. Sanju knelt down so that he would be the same height as the girl is. The girl dramatically tilted her head and whispered in his ears, “She is choosing”
***********************************************************************
The door knocked again, this time a little louder. Sanju jumped out of his bed. It was
6AM in the morning. He got confused and then searched immediately inside the room but the girl was nowhere to be spotted. He looked at Suhra. There was no change in her expression. “And that was just a dream”, he exhaled as he walked towards the door and opened it.
“Good morning”, the nurse greeted Sanju as she walked towards Suhra and checked on her vitals.
“Sister, Is there any chance that there is a 12 year old girl living in any of our neighboring room?” Sanju inquired.
“Not that I know of”, the sister sounded a little perplexed by the question. “But why do you ask?”
“Nothing” Sanju nodded his head as he tried to decipher the puzzle.
“Oh! Your wife is smiling”, the nurse said.
Sanju was slightly astonished by the way the nurse had put the sentence. It was simple plain. But the smile: just like what he had seen in the dream.
He ran towards the bedside and sat near her. The nurse was a little bit stunned but then smiled. She was used to seeing many such cases that a small ray of hope for someone seemed like a usual day to day visual for her. “I shall take a leave. Call me if you need anything”, she told as he left the room
Sanju did not notice anything but was staring at Suhra. Yes, his beloved was smiling.
Sanju felt himself swaying like a pendulum, switching between dream and reality. He wondered where he was currently. “Maybe, now it is reality and the girl was just a dream.”
Sanju took Suhra’s hands and cupped it in between his. “That girl in the dream told me that you are choosing”, he started. “But I just want you to…”
He felt his throat tighten.” Just wake up and let’s go home”. Suhra continued to smile. Sanju felt weaker as he continued holding her hands. He had missed her warmth for quite some time now.
” Sanju…” he heard a shrill voice. It was her. She was awake. He prayed the God almighty. Her eyes were closed but there was this slight consciousness in her that Sanju could feel. “Yes, Suhra”, he waited.
” I……” her voice trailed off. Sanju felt himself in a trance.
” Yes, Suhra. Tell me….”
Silence yet again. Sanju felt a burning sensation inside. The sun had risen to the fullest and was glowing, spitting rays of light into the otherwise dim room of theirs. Sanju stayed motionless besides his beloved. Outside, the city was slowly waking to its daily routine and the ruckus had slowly started to begin. And inside Their room in the hospital, Sanju sat near his beloved Suhra, the lady for whom he deserted people and defied the world laws, holding her hand, now devoid of the warmth and life it had a few moment before. She had finally chosen what she wanted. She wanted to be Suhra and not “the GIRL”. The big digital box ceased to display the numbers and the running lines and sat in irony as if to mourn akin with Sanju.
Outside the hospital, down the street and along the busy city road, the city lights continued to burn without a cease and with the same glow as it did yesterday and many other days before.
-durga
Image Courtesy: Google images
“What had changed? “, I wonder. ” What haven’t?”, a voice in my head says and I am back to reality. Yes, A lot had changed, a lot that could never be reversed back to what it was. From where I am sitting, I look around. A beautiful lawn, set wonderfully, a pool adorned with stones and beautiful fishes and at a distance, there it stood – HOME. Our Home.
This April is too hot. I wish it rained. Sitting here, alone in the greenery of the lawn, I watch: the squirrels playing under the young mango tree we had planted together last year; the butterflies fluttering near the red hibiscus flowers, joyous, enjoying the sunny weather. I still feel a bit of loneliness. I turn my gaze from the surroundings towards the two cups of coffees that I have kept near me. They were steaming hot and the waft of the coffee was too inviting. But I feel a slight aversion. “What had changed? “, I wonder. ” What haven’t?”, a voice in my head says and I am back to reality. Yes, A lot had changed, a lot that could never be reversed back to what it was. From where I am sitting, I look around. A beautiful lawn, set wonderfully, a pool adorned with stones and beautiful fishes and at a distance, there it stood – HOME. Our Home.
Everything will soon be gone, just like the way he disappeared. Is it? No, he left in a hurry, without telling her a good-bye. But from here, she will be walking out in a few days. They have called, asking her to find a different place to live. She was scared. Moving out from her home to where? But how could she live here? His liabilities should be cleared and selling the place was the only solution. He also knew it but had hated the idea. It was his dream – the home, pool, lawn and what more. Earlier, when he was there, together they would sit here, his favorite rest place in the lawn, with the cup of coffees. She would snuggle closer to him and rest under his warmth. He would caress her hair, fondle playfully and lean back. ” I am living my dream”, he would say and then smile. And she knew he meant what he had said. She still remember him, planning and building his dream, like a small boy, arranging his building blocks carefully to a beautiful building. Normally, his ideas were shared as a surprise to her. She was allowed to comment on the final outcomes of his ideas. It was his privacy that he rarely disclosed. But she never complained because she had fallen in love with those final surprises. But not all the surprise, especially the last one.
They had gotten married during a winter, 2 years before. A beautiful, arranged meeting. Every time, she think about it, a twinkle comes to her eyes. During the bride-seeing, she had fallen in love with him at first sight. Who would not fall in love with the tall, dark and handsome hunk?She was head over heels in love with him. But he sat quiet for a long time and then left without an answer. The man kept her in her bubbling cauldron of tension for a whole week and pulled her out with a “YES”. She still wonder why it took a week for him. Another one among his bunch of secrets.
I knew him as a different person, silent and lovable. He failed in the art of flirting, sadly even with me, his wife. I always teased him for that. He would say nothing but in the next moment, he could cover me in a bear hug. I wish I teased him more often. I miss those hugs, his warmth and care.
Now, all she could see was the void he left behind. There were a lot of memories, hanging at each nook and corner of this place. Wherever she turned, she could see him, the ghostly memories and she felt haunted. It was painful because as far as her vision extended, she saw her life – deserted. Devoid of life and moreover, devoid of him.
I counted every second I spent with him. Though short, our love story was beautiful. At one time, he left me alone for a business tour. Days got elongated and at night, I missed my blanket, his smell and coziness. I sat in the open terrace, staring at the moon lit silver sky. And then, he would call. Many a times, I fell asleep on the terrace, in between those long conversations. His voice was deep and wavy, flowing like a waterfall, bubbling and sparkling, never hiding the truth that he missed me too.When he came back, after a small period of fake fights and happy tears, together we made the nigh, sharing the confined space in the balcony. I still remember, you whispering in my ears, my name and how much you loved me. I MISS YOU……
She sighed. Their life had turned upside down in a period of few months. Loss in business, building debts. He hid everything from her. She knew they were in hard times but he never let her know the depth. It was too deep and he had fallen into that-Alone. Those sleepless nights of his, when her hands missed him on bed, he would walk back and say “This too shall pass, my love. It is fine. “And it passed with him moving away from her, unable to cope with the failure. He had only written- ” Sorry”. She hated him for going on that trip alone, leaving her alone.
People were pouring in and out that day. I felt like I was in the middle of a chaos. It would soon be over, I told myself. He was asleep. I took his hand and felt the chill. Your stillness terrified me, dear but I had no tears to shed. Why did you leave me? Outside, it was raining but Summer was waiting for us. To walk out and sit in the lawn, sip our coffee and together we will dream and weave the future.
“Tara, whom are you talking to?”, She heard a voice. It was her mother.
” To her”, Tara told, touching her 20 week old tummy. She smiled and also felt irritated at the same time as her mother had interrupted her conversation with her daughter. It was her first summer without him and with her. He never knew because he left in a haste. Had he known, he would have tried just the same way she is trying now – To learn to live.
” Sit with me, mom”, Tara asked. Her mother sat near her. She noticed the two coffee cups but didn’t say anything.
” Have you packed?”
Tara nodded. Her mother ran her fingers through her hair. Tara could hear the deep breath of her mom, heaving heavily as if trying to control her tears.
” Come, Tara. Lets go”, She heard her mother again
My first summer without you by my side, dear. You broke my wish and went away. This grief is overwhelming. There were times when I wanted to come to you but she held me back –our baby. Our baby for whom I am breathing now.
Thunder rumbled and Tara looked upwards. The sky was getting darker, the blanket of cloud draping the deep blue sky. ” Summer Rain”, Tara whispered and smiled. The first drop fell on her cheek and slowly, the downpour got heavy.
“Tara, Come”, her mother signaled as she ran toward the house to get an umbrella.
The rain embraced me totally and our child. Do not worry, dear. She wont feel the cold because she is under my warmth. But I am cold and shivering. I wish for your shadow that shaded me for the past few years. And it broke out. Tara cried, aloud as she let loose all the tears that were choking inside her, desperate to babble out like a stream.
I am afraid and alone, dear. I still have no answer of how to take care of her without you. Where are you? The rain assures me, wiping away my tears. Suddenly, a cool breeze it me from nowhere, tightening me in an embrace and I feel safe. I feel you. My eyes frantically search for you, each and every where.
” What is it, Tara?”, her mother ran to her with an umbrella. She didn’t say anything but smiled. ” Lets’ go, mom”.
As they walked, she turned back towards the lawn where she sat. She touched her tummy as if holding her baby in the arms, ” We will miss you”.
-durga
Image Courtesy: Google images
Ralph walked through the corridor in a haste. He failed to notice the path which he was traversing, neither did he gave ears to the person who was blabbering endlessly about the paintings to him. Ralph was in the Louvre museum, but unlike many, his intentions were not to admire and learn about the priced paintings that adorned the walls. His was a quest, started way back, continuing still. His eyes searched among the many thousand faces that one single face which had turned away from him quite a few years back. Time had sped past but he felt himself glued in that past, unable to forget and unable to move on. Few minutes later, Ralph found himself in front of the most celebrated lady- “Mona Lisa”. The guide had taken a new momentum in his word shower but Ralph never heard any. “Where are you, my Mona Lisa?” He laughed silently, biting down the sound from his throat with his sparkling white teeth. “Let’s walk”, Ralph told the guide and turned immediately, only to hit some stranger. She had fallen down and Ralph doubted whether to spare a moment and help the lady. As he started to walk away, he heard the voice of the lady, cursing as she tried to get up. That voice felt familiar. Looking back, he saw the face of the young lady. It was her. Ralph felt a sudden adrenaline surge as he ran towards her and helped her out. Though he was in the quest, finding her was an accident. Accidentally, he had met her this day, just like the way it had happened a few years ago. He had held out his hand towards her once, long back and that time, she took it happily. Today, he held it out again but he knew that there would be no happiness for her.
They say that in all the movies, the story ends when the couples unite. But for Ralph, it had just begun……………
“Amanda”, she heard him clearly, his voice, a cold whisper. He had held her arm tightly, his fingers tightening the grip, while she struggled to stand up. She knew he had found her and that the run was over. All the while, Ralph was looking straight into her eyes. She saw in those, a gleam of joy, which fairly resembled the glow that she saw in the eyes of a predator after it captures its prey. “Anything wrong, Sir?” she heard the voice of the guide who accompanied Ralph.” Your work is over”, Ralph answered him, still not turning his face away from her. The very next second, she found herself being dragged out of the museum.” Leave me, Ralph”, she pleaded, her voice exuding the consternation that she felt the moment she knew it was him. he continued walking, pushing aside their way through the large crowd, moving out of the museum, turning through the narrow ally and finally ending the journey in a way side inn.
“All you had to do was be my wife. I loved you, I cared and I provided everything”, he retorted that echoed inside the room she was pushed into. Ralph closed the door with the back of his leg and stood in front of her. His six foot and well-built gigantic posture was enough to frighten her soul and already shivering mind.
” Leave me, Ralph. I know you love me but too much of love and your obsession is choking me.”
” And if I leave, then what?” he switched his legs, “Can’t imagine you with any other man, dear”, he knelt down and ran his fingers over her sweaty face. He wiped away the small beads that formed near her eyes and behind her ear. Ralph adored her a lot. She was his queen, his alone and if not, then she belonged to none. Not even herself. She had escaped from him an year ago. And today, he found her again. He mentally calculated the days she was away from him and wondered if she had been alone or with anyone. The very thought made him stir as he felt a dark spasm of pain hit his nerves. He moved behind Amanda and knelt closer to her. He knelt down and smelt her long luscious hair. “I Love you”, he whispered in her ears as he pulled out a paper knife and with a clean single move, slit her throat, while he held her closer to his heart.
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Amanda jumped out of the rocking chair on which she sat. It was 1 am in the morning. She did not know when she had fallen asleep but it had only been an hour. An hour, long enough to give her that terrifying night mare. She knew that her dream could turn out into a reality if she really tried to escape from there. She had thought about it once but never had the courage to execute the plan. Even if she had, the result would have been the same that she saw in the dream. He would hunt her down and kill her. Love was such a poisonous feeling too when in excess. She looked around her home but….. It was not home any more. More of a dungeon where the captivator held his captive, fed it, showered it with love and care. But the captive always felt caged. She was free but still chained. Ralph had stopped loving her the normal way long back. The feeling had rather changed into an addiction for Ralph and it reflected in his behavior. She had felt it in her nerves when he started to be over protective and possessive, slowly pushing her out of her friends’ circle, away from the social getaways and finally choking her up with his total act of ownership. She had tried to talk but went vain. The file suited for divorce was a total disaster as Ralph had the money and power. The case flew like a small piece of dry leaf in the wind, slowly dissipating and dissolving in the thin air. He had threatened her and then apologized, beaten her and then pleaded for forgiveness. One act of repentance from him, was he admitted the fact that he had gone psycho and started taking the medication. But Ralph never let her go, will never be. Amanda knew she was afraid of him. The fear overruled the hatred and she felt perplexed at times. All she wanted was to escape but Ralph was everywhere. Even in her dreams, he had been successful to keep her caged.
She put aside her thoughts and walked into the kitchen. In a single gulp, she emptied the water bottle.
She yearned for freedom. Although, still being his wife, there was no feelings alive in her. There was no parents to help: Ralph had helped her walk out of that orphanage, holding her hand, bound in the holy matrimony. Back then, she remembered being happy. Happy to feel that someone was there for her. But time do change things. Too much of anything is dangerous, be it love or even that care. And she is done with having too much.
Having made the choice, Amanda walked out of the kitchen, finding her way across the hall to the bedroom. The room was dim lit, the zero watt bulb burned in one of the top corner of the room. The A/C was still on and she felt the chilling breeze as she slightly opened the closed door. Leaning onto the wall, she watched Ralph, sleeping under the comfort of his thick woolen quilt. Watching him made her walk into those memories again, the good and the bad. She felt like a pendulum, oscillating between the choices she had and what finally awaited.
“Sorry Ralph”, she uttered under her breath as she silently trotted into the room. In her hand that she held behind, the sharp kitchen knife swayed as she shivered, and it sparkled under the quivering reflection of the dim lit zero watt bulb.
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Ralph sat in the strange and freezing cold room, staring the four walls. It was different from all the other places he had been up to. Back then, he had been honored at every places but here, the show was different. The four walls had four different faces. One side had a large cupboard, open one , filled tightly with a bunch of dusty files of which some were half eaten by the termites. The other side was bland but had stains, probably the blood spewed by many persons who were smashed on to it by these men. The third side had a picture board of not so beautiful faces, adorning the section. And there on the fourth side, on a wooden chair, sat him, the man in uniform who had brought him there an hour ago. On the table, Ralph saw the steel kitchen knife, stained with blood. Her blood. She who had walked in to take away his life had walked away alone, with him snatching away hers. He writhed inside, an act of self defense had cost him the priceless possession of his life. Now he was poor, a penniless pauper, having lost her. “ Why, Amanda, why? Why did you sit near me for long, long enough to woke me up. I was shocked to see you there, and the knife. Am I that despicable, Amy?” , he broke down.
The inspector watched the man opposite him, playing a series of emotions all over his face. His wife had attempted murder but the role switched. He had rushed in to the scene after the call he got from Amanda. The lady had confessed everything and told him that she is going to kill. But the moment he reached the scene, he saw a different picture. He had seen Ralph sitting there, holding a blood clad Amanda in his arms, the knife pushed deep inside her heart. And the inspector had grabbed him at the very next second itself before he could do further damages. But the lady didn’t survive. He saw her die but with a serene smile as if acknowledging the inspector for his late arrival. He saw Ralph in tears and an endless pain:The inspector had realized that Amanda had won the battle.
He knew that the guy could be spared. Ralph was a powerful man and the inspector knew it. But he also knew Amanda and her plight.
” What do you want me to do? I knew both sides of the story, Ralph. Hers and yours. Decide what you want. Either you could go to jail or we could bury everything up”, the inspector explained.Ralph said nothing but kept on looking at the inspector.
” Your call”, the inspector reiterated.
Ralph suddenly smiled. The same hunter smile that Amanda feared.
” You know, her body shivered a lot when I stabbed her. I doubt whether she was really in there, to murder me. For that, she could have done a lot easier. She could have increased the dosage of my medication or anything . But she chose the knife way. She chose the knife and then watched me sleep till it woke me up. But Why?”, Ralph let out a devilish laugh that echoed inside the station. The inspector felt a tinge of fear forming inside but struggled hard to not let his face showcase the same . The man was truly a psycho.
” You know I wish to be punished because I have killed my queen. But not here, not like this. “, Ralph suddenly leaned closer to the table. ” Amanda had smiled when she took her last breath. She knew that she had finally escaped from me- death had freed her. But No, not yet.”
The inspector clutched the gun attached on his belt tighter. With a swift move, Ralph grabbed the knife,” Here I come, Amy. Just could not let you go. Sorry it took a while to decide.” And just the way she had seen in her dream, all it took was one fine slit, right on the throat.
*******************************************************************durga
Scribbles of a caffeinated psyche 