TRANSITION

in joblessness and in gluttony,

in madness and in peace

in losing old ties and forming new ones

in missing home to setting up new homes

in pictures and forgotten promises

in breaking down and in break ups

halts, pauses, stops and ends...

in beginning of days and end of nights

in heat, sweat and contemplation of rain

as soap cases and old bedsheets are left behind

memories peep in from the crumpled sheets

a little bit of that left over perfume

the last drops of the unfinished drinks

a half filled bottle and a half empty room

in late goodbyes and the early goodbye notes

in love, in hatred, in jealousy, in pain...

in empty shelves, and abandoned beds

life is lived in transformation...

SHOCKS.....!!!!!

Surprises and shocks…synonymous? Well, sometimes yes, and sometimes no. A friend said, surprises make you happy, shocks leave you stoned. After a long long time, I got a lazy Sunday morning, and I had planned to sleep through it. Instead, I am up sipping a cup of hot and aromatic Darjeeling tea, and thinking of another Sunday, somewhere six years down the timeline.

It was a sunny Sunday morning, and I was at my English coaching class with a bunch of friends. The very idea of attending this coaching was never studying, but hanging out with my best buddies. We would look forward to those two and half hours of uncorrupted fun impatiently for the whole week. As I took my seat, posing to be very serious since our teacher was still in the room, my friend who was seated just beside me opened his fists, which held a candy. He offered it to me. Well. He wasn’t generous enough to offer candies usually, so I was a bit surprised. I snatched it from his hand, contemplating that he might change his mind in seconds. I tore the packet, and put it in my mouth. “It’s a gum”, he said, “chew it”! I crushed it between my teeth, expecting a juicy treat, but lo!!!! I shrieked out loud and closed my mouth as I realized out teacher was sitting just in front of me. We weren’t allowed to eat during the coaching hours, though we always managed to sneak in food, snacks and candies. My face distorted, I couldn’t keep my eyes open as I felt the tangy pang all over my tongue and teeth. It’s a new brand of gums called “Centre Shock”, my friend whispered in my ears, and gave me his signature evil grin.

My teacher frowned and asked, “What is it”?

I made a sorry face and kept staring at her. The tangy pang was now spreading all over my mouth and all I wanted was to spit out that horrendous thing my friend had tricked me into putting in my mouth. My friend, sitting right beside me spoke now: “Ma’am, actually a bug bit her on her you-know-where… and …” the rest of the sentence drowned under a huge fit of laughter from my friends who were sitting around that rectangular table. Now I must say, we were a batch of fifteen odd students who cringed and sat around an eight seater dining table. Our extra strong bond could not make our teacher divide us into two batches. We insisted on taking the coaching together, though it required immense space management skills. But we said we would manage. We would just stick our asses to one corner of the chair in the name of sitting. But all that inconvenience was worth the fun we had there.

Coming back to where we had left, I mean the fit of laughter; I got so mad at my friend for making a joke out of me. But I couldn’t swear at him as I had to keep my mouth shut. There was a turmoil going on inside my mouth and every second was making it worse. My teacher yelled and put their laughter to an end. Then she turned at me and asked, “Oh, dear, is it a bad bite? Is it hurting?” All I could do was nod in acceptance. I could feel tears in my eyes.

She got up, opened a closet and took out a ball of cotton and a bottle of Savlon. Giving it to me, she said, “Here, take this and go to the washroom”.

Washroom, oh yes, the right place, I thought. I couldn’t wait to spit that evil thing out of my mouth. I grabbed the cotton and Savlon and ran to the washroom. As I reached the basin to spit it out, I realized, the electrifying sour taste had turned somewhat sweet by then. In a few more seconds, it turned completely sweet, just like a normal gum, and I was chewing on the gum blissfully. I came back from the washroom after a while, and our teacher was gone from the room after assigning us a few test papers to solve. As I entered, there was a fit of laughter again. The friend who trapped me into the trick had by now narrated the entire episode to the batch, I realized. I boxed his ears before taking my seat and then joined the laughter.

Though the first experience was terrifying, I soon became a great fan of “Center Shock”; in fact, all my friends did. We almost became its brand ambassadors in our small hometown. Our coaching sessions from then on were incomplete without that shocking gum. We went on to fool a lot more people with the gum, and every episode was hilarious, but according to my friends, not as hilarious as my episode. School life soon ended, and so did the coaching sessions. Our English teacher had arranged for a farewell party for us, and in my farewell speech, I narrated this entire incident; and I still remember the look of shock and surprise on my teacher’s face after hearing it out. 

about me and him

His entering my life, and leaving it, both were very silent. When I held him for the first time, I knew he was mine, always. And when he left, I wasn’t even there to hold him for the last time. Today as I look back in retrospect, I realize how much difference he had made to my existence. Had he not been there to share the darkness of the night, and the warmth of his body, I wonder how I would have ever been able to pass that phase in life. When the whole world fell asleep, he somehow understood that someone needs to be up with me, someone needs to fight the loneliness for me, and he stood up to be that someone. I can still recall those long nights, when nothing but silence passed between us. Yet it felt so great to just hold each other tight. Every morning as I woke up, he would be fast asleep in my arms. Just staring at him gave me my purpose in life, I knew I had to live, because he had to live. Strangely enough, he died, whereas, I still live.

He died very young, probably because he was too good to survive long. But in the space in my heart in which he is the king till today, he left a rainbow of memories. He was a snowy white, puny little spitz dog and that is why I had named him Casper: the good ghost. Beautiful eyes he had, which glistened with tears every time I scolded him; and a wide smile, which no one believed. But I knew that my boy could smile. Casper taught me a lot, he taught me love, he taught me loyalty, and he taught me how to live for someone else, as he did for me. And his absence too taught me a lot, it taught me that we all need someone to love, and we all wish to be loved back equally. But human love can rarely give us that selflessness which this creature had given me.

He was at the receiving end of all my emotions: love, care, anger, frustration, misery, sadness, laughter and tears. And one day, I had to leave him. Maybe that was the worst decision of my life. I left the one I loved the most and by whom was loved back the most. But what else could I have done, my hostel would not allow in my dog, and I had to think about my career. I messed up a lot with life, and he lost the zeal to live on. I was in my hostel when I got the call from home, that Casper was dead. He couldn’t survive the pain the accident brought him. His death did not bring me tears, though I tried to cry for almost a week, all efforts in vain. Probably because he was not to be let away with tears, probably because he deserves to be remembered till I survive. And so he left me with a hollowness, an emptiness inside, which I face now and then, even today. This note was due, a long, long time, but I never mustered the courage to write it down. Because somewhere down the heart, Casper lives on. I cannot imagine him dead.

Moments...

Nor an escape from the past

Neither the promise of a future

It’s just for here, and just for now.

In the moments, at this  hour

Just like the handful of sand

That will escape the fists very soon…

Not in the tears, nor  in the smile

Just for those looks in the eyes for a while…

Not for the eyes that stare,

Nor for the eyes that speak…

But for those eyes that play hide n seek

Not in the music, nor in your words

But for those silences between the lips

I feel like being with you.

Give me those moments…

Those moments of peace,

Those moments of love

Those moments of life

And I promise to live an eternity in each.

FRIENDSHIP

Friendship, just like love, is not gonna stay with us for a lifetime. This is a fact I had accepted, though with much reluctance. That morning, when I woke up and saw my luggage all packed, I felt a pang in my chest. I was finally leaving the country. I latched the main door and handed over the keys to my landlord and walked towards the gate.

As I opened the gate, I took one last glance at the house… or home? I thought, “Should I be crying?” But then again, I felt, “Why should I?” I mean, in movies and all, they do cry in such scenes, but that is because they are sad to leave something behind. I was taking all I have along with me, packed in the suitcases. For once, I felt so convenient about not having a family, coz that would have made my packing so much complicated. How on earth would I have managed to pack a pair of mom and dad and a bunch of siblings into the suitcases? It was perfect that I was alone.

Alone? Not really until before a few months back. Ashwin was there since I was sixteen. And Anjali… Anjali was there from even before. She helped me pack every single thing that belonged to me when I finally moved from Mamaji’s place into a home of my own. Though a rented one, but for the first time, I would cease to be an undue burden on grumpy relatives. And when I moved, I made it a point to bring back everything that belonged to me, I never liked the idea of moving ahead, leaving my things behind. After all, in every single thing I consider mine, there dwells a piece of me in them.

But those were past… Ashwin was gone now… for some better prospect. And Anjali… she too was gone. Who the hell ever said friendship was for a lifetime? All those moments of childhood and teenage to becoming adults… we had shared them together… and all were gone in the blink of an eyelid? All for that guy… what was his name? I just forgot, pardon me. Oh, wait… why am I even asking for a pardon? He was not worth her. I told her that, but she never believed me. She said I was speaking against her guy, coz I was frustrated about losing mine? Heck! I agree I was frustrated, but that wasn’t the reason for my being negative about her guy… 

Anyways, it was three months that I was all alone, in this whole world. And that was when I got this call from Muscat, asking me to join their company there. Good package and very less things left for me to pack for leaving this country, I readily agreed.

I took the cab to the airport, and there again, I looked behind. Damned! There was nothing left for me, no one waiting for me… I better moved ahead. Suddenly, my cellphone vibrates… I get a message from an unknown number saying… “ Check your mail once, before you leave.” Now who was this? Hey wait… I knew the number! So what if I had deleted it, Anjali’s number was there in my head. Dunno what caught my whims, I moved away from the check in queue, took out my laptop, and switched it on. 

I connected the internet through my cellphone, and in moments, I was into my gmail account. Among a hell lot of promotional mails, junk mails and spams, I could see Anjali’s one. I clicked it open, and there were a series of snaps in there.

God! When did she do all these? It was a collection of all the times we spent together. There was the one with us making the doll’s house… we were barely 10 years at that time; and there was the one with us preparing a batter, I suppose we were baking a cake for the first time. There were pictures of us in crew cuts, pig tails, pony tails… to long and beautiful hair… How could I forget we had grown up together, always?

I scrolled down the entire mail, reliving every memory of us together that the pictures managed to remind me of. At the end of the mail, there was a p.s., saying, “We were never ‘me’, we were always ‘us’, and we will always be ‘us’. My eyes drifted to the chat list, and I saw a shining green button beside her name. “Should I ping?”… I finally pinged.

Me: Hey, just checked your mail.

Anjali: Hmm… how was it?

Me: Good!

Anjali: Did you cry L???

Me: Noooo… why wud I????

Anjali: Oh! Btw, when is your flight?

Me: In about an hour…

Anjali: You must check in, then?

Me: Yup, I must.

Anjali: Did you manage with packing?

          I mean, I wasn’t even there to help you this time…

Me: Oh! I managed… I did.

Anjali: You packed everything?

Me: Yup… I never leave anything behind, you know that!

Anjali: You sure?

Me: What do you mean? Yes, I am.

Anjali: There’s something you’re leavin behind…

Anjali was video calling me…

I took it…

I could see her across the call window, she was crying.

Suddenly, I felt something itchy on my cheeks. I took my fingers there only to feel something moist.

Hell! When did I start crying?

“Anjali, I don’t think I can manage to pack you up in any of my suitcases.”

“In that case, what would you do?”

“Guess I would unpack my other suitcases. When I cannot pack something that’s mine along with me, I’d rather stay behind.”

“You wait there, I’m coming to pick you up…”

Hell! Friendships are meant for a lifetime… after all… we should be together till we click pictures of us with grey hairs and maybe even no hairs… J

 
 P.S - I am participating in 3G Life Blogger Contest(sponsored by  Tata Docomo) under the category My friends. My life. My phone.

lost and found

When I was four I enjoyed playing with him. He said I was his “bestest” friend. By the time I reached eleven, he grew boring. He would still like to play with cars. He could not gossip. He would still lisp whereas my speech had grown perfect by then. The only word I lisped was his name. But then I continued calling him Lessi only out of affection. I had a whole bunch of friends at school who were smart and stylish, but Leslie was still a child. Mom said Leslie would always be a child. He could not grow up, God won’t let him. But she reminded me that had nothing to do with us being friends. However, with time, I spent less and less time with Leslie, because he was not allowed to go beyond the community park; and I liked going out with friends.

The year I turned thirteen, I learnt, people like Leslie suffer from autism. My friends got me make up kits and deos and glitter nail polishes and lip glosses for my birthday; Leslie came with a box of lollypops. During my birthday party, some friends made fun of Leslie. They said he is grown up enough to be a man, and he still likes lollys! I chided my friends for laughing at him. I didn’t like others making fun of him, but at the same time I realized that I have to choose between Leslie and the other bunch of friends; because Leslie would always be a child. I chose the latter. I felt proud to grow up, and saw no reason why I should hang around with someone who would never grow up.

At sixteen, my best friend Priya stole my boyfriend. I came from school, crying my eyes out. Mom wasn’t back from office, and I did not have the spare key. So I went and sat in the park. Leslie was playing alone. I asked him if I could play with him. He said he would allow me to play only if I agreed to lose in the hot wheels car race. Also, he had two cars, and I would have to play with the bad looking one. I agreed. We played for like half an hour, and by the end of it, I was bored. I did not enjoy playing with him. While we were playing, Leslie mentioned, I was no longer his “bestest” friend. I felt guilty of having neglected him, when he had been my constant companion ever since I knew myself. But I realized Leslie and I had grown apart. He still enjoys things I had left far behind. Mom had come back, so I went home.

At eighteen, I left home for college. On my last day at home, Leslie visited us with his mom. He brought me a cute hand mirror as a good bye gift. He didn’t look happy. I thought maybe he is sad because I was leaving. Later, when his mom joined my mom in the kitchen and we were left alone, I asked if he was sad because I was leaving.

“I am not sad because you are leaving. You don’t car race with me anymore. I can play alone.”

“Then why are you so down Lessi?”

“Because I didn’t want to bring you that mirror. I wanted to get you lollypops. But mom said you would not like your lip gloss to be spoilt by licking lollypops. And in college people like to look beautiful. So we should get you something that can help you look good.”

Leslie said it very innocently, but somehow he made me realize I had grown up. He was still in his blissful childhood, and I was not. For the first time I felt jealous of him.

Next vacation when I visited home, I hardly saw him playing in the park with his cars. I went to his place and saw him sitting in front of his computer. His parents got him one for his 30^th birthday. He was playing Road Rash. Still not bored with racing, I thought.

I tried talking to him, but he hardly responded. Thereafter, I barely remember him being in my life.

Ten years from then, one night, I was in my New York apartment, trying to make Zoro sleep, when I got a call from the hospital. My husband had met with an accident. We rushed to the hospital. He fought with death for three long days, by the end of which he lost. I was all alone with a four year old kid, that too in a city which was not mine. Mom asked me to return home. 


It took me six months to complete all the official formalities, and when I flew back home, I saw the entire family waiting for me at the airport. Along with them, Leslie had also come. He looked old now, and dull, and lonely. He stood in the far corner while everyone else was busy greeting me.

That evening, while I was doing the unpacking, Leslie came over. I introduced him to Zoro, my son. Leslie asked Zoro if he liked cars. Zoro had a huge collection of them, all gifted to him by his father. He asked me to take out his toys. I took them all out, and gave them to him, except one, which I hid under the pillow. I thought Zoro should have at least one memoir of his father to look at later when he grew up. I left the two of them to play while I carried on with my unpacking. Suddenly my eyes fixed at Leslie. I saw something which was long lost, come back… that spark in Leslie’s eyes, when we as kids used to play together, reappeared. They were fighting over the better looking cars and arguing on who should win and who should lose.

By the end of four hours, when it was time for dinner, Zoro and Leslie were at harmony. They were taking turns to win and lose, to play with good cars and bad cars, lisping away merrily all about cars and races. Zoro wouldn’t leave Leslie, so he had dinner with us. In the next few days, both of them grew equally fond of each other. Leslie’s computer lay unused and he had excavated out all his old cars.

Leslie has some grey hairs now, but his heart is still green. I feel happy for Leslie. He lost his only friend when I grew up, but found another in my son. Last night, when I went to call Zoro back from the park for dinner, I saw the two of them looking up at the sky. Zoro said Leslie was helping him find his dad among the stars.

“And how would Leslie know which is your dad? There are so many stars up there.”

“Lessi would surely find out Mom, he said he would do it for me, even if it takes the whole night. Because he said I am his ‘bestest’ friend.” 

p.s. - this is a piece of fiction