A walk..back home!!

It wasn’t the prices of the drink that made me ponder; but the sheer ambience of the surrounding, that made me ask to myself… “What am I doing here?” Maybe I shouldn’t be here…or maybe I should… but the fact is, I am here. I looked like a fool, with the discomfort of being worried, I felt out of place! May be I liked this unfamiliarity; cause all this life, known familiarity had pained me enough to let me wander into the unknown.

I found a seat and put my bag on another chair. An indecisive blankness clouded my heart as I looked around. The place was a dingy little set up, with an haphazard arrangement of chairs and tables. The place was darkly lit and the no. of unbroken or partially working incandescent bulbs worked extra hard to make this place agreeably visible. The scheme of lighting was a tad suspicious. In the sense, only the cashier’s desk and a couple of walls to which an assortment of cheap movie posters were glued were distinctly visible. The semi clad women in the posters seemed to serve a purpose and I believe they were deliberately placed. May be the posters hid the defects in the wall, but that seemed a remotely unobvious reason. “Provocative” would be a major understatement to describe the images. There were women, either stand alone or with a partner…their attire casually revealing the enormous-ity of their bosom. The raw instincts of their expressions oozed more conjuring explicit sexual intent than any sense of remote pleasure. It all worked in favor of the F/L liquor joint; they surely fueled the in satiated sexual urges of this intoxicated male populace and kept their male ego well catered. Though it was a tad disgracing, they provided strange warmth in my groins.

    

This moment of several intermingled thoughts and inebriated stare was interrupted by the glean on the attendants face. My indecisive blankness annoyed him. He left the table with a stare! I wasn’t sure what I had to order, but then I had to. Whiskey seemed an obvious choice. but next time around when he returned to get my order; the question, “which one?” seemed not so obvious. To save an embarrassment, I ordered “the best!” my loss of choice, clearly my novice nature to act in coherence to this alien territory.

His coarse voice sounded threatening; “ Your money decides the best!”. His impatience was tuned higher than acceptable levels of tolerance as he narrated the ones available. Without extending this discomfort to any further level, I placed my order..he left!

As I sat alone, befuddled in the balance of moral correctness and inappropriateness, a slew of thoughts haunted me. My family, me my mother all knocked in my senses! I have never expended alcohol in my life…never… ever! But, I was tired today, lost…broken!

When my friends tomfooled me for not being man enough to join in their binge sessions, I overcame the probations with an inert pride. I was proud of warding off liquor. It had killed my father, ripped my family apart…orphaned me! Every time I saw a bottle of liquor, deep inside I had an urge to smash the bottle. His face reflected in it, the cries of my mother resounded in my ears. The dark corner of our house...her silent tears trickling down… endless unsuccessful attempts of escaping his monstrous torture and heinous maligns; all came alive…I froze for the moment.

This moment of abhorrence was interrupted by the 'THUD..' of the serving! A dirty looking glass, my whiskey and a bottle of water, which was previously a borrowed alcohol container… A small plate of shredded ginger and rock salt was served along my order.  Before I could fumble; this shabby, ill fitting clothed attendant asked me if a bowl of peanuts or chick pea would be required. I consented! He slipped me a paper on which was my bill amount.  But this hairy, dark skinned scar faced moron stood his ground, scratching his unshaven chin with crocked fingers and nails unclipped!! I paid my bill amount, but he refused to budge. He bent down, swung his towel on my table in a lousy attempt to wipe it clean. This piece of cloth was better off kept slap-happy on his shoulder. I’m sure the way it looked; it wouldn’t restrict its job to cleaning furniture’s or drying his hands, but extend its duties to cleaning of his unhygienic proceedings. This piqued me beyond consideration. I tipped him as quickly and as non eagerly as I could..he left, with a deterring smirk, which soon turned into a frown and a salute.

I was relieved to be left alone, left by myself… but in front of me was this bottle.

 I didn’t find myself asking what do I do next, how would I mix…in what proportion. I made my peg!

The first sip didn’t go down well. It felt bitter. I clinched a piece of salted ginger between my teeth. It eased the discomfort. But I did not come here for comfort! I picked up the glass again, this time…gulped down the entire content.

“Aargh…”, I coughed!  A little burning sensation in my throat unease-d my coy poise! I wasn’t deterred to stop, soon there was another and another till the bottle ran dry of alcohol. It wasn’t that bad, actually quite contrary to my known consequences of drinking. There was no abusive language, no violence, no unexpected emotional trauma of failures…nothing! Just a sense of relaxation. I was enjoying the trip. I rolled up my sleeves, eased myself onto my chair to order my next round, when my fingers touched a few scars.

In an instant my past, flashed in front of me. Every little detail; fast forwarding to make me realize…when n how my body was left this way, just a dried canvas of bruises and pain. With more pegs consumed, the images were becoming invigoratingly daunting. There was an anxiety, a distinct fear… very similar to everything I felt years ago. The kitchen utensils, leather belts, furniture or may be the blunt vegetable chopping knife…I did not know which will play its role, to be a tool to etch my body… forever! My young mind could never conjure reasons of this madness, but I learnt to bear the pain and be silent even if it was un bearable…cause my screams maddened him more! My tears just narrated a redundant story of his deranged mental state. He only stopped, when I collapsed, grew numb to everything that happened! May be it’s the same numbness, I carry till today! Numbness of my inability to protect my mother from her sufferings… my powerless strength to evade her consequence!

I drank more, this time to forget…but I couldn’t forget her promise! She had promised me that she would never leave me alone, but she lied. She left me… left me to burn in my living hell! I wish, I could accuse her of her incapability to protect me…but I cannot! I couldn’t blame her dead body…I was only 8, and my world had fallen apart! My neighbors comforted me at times, they had convinced me…the star that shone the brightest in a dark night was her. The only star the eyes say, in a cloudy night…it was my mother. She was gone, and I missed her every moment that I breathed! In the morning, in the quietness of my room I cried…cried cause I couldn’t see her in the sky. I was his prisoner, locked in the confinement of dark brick walls. But at night, when the caroused monster would snore in his lair…she would shine bright, take me under her serenity. She wiped my tears and me smile. I still believe she is there in the sky, looking at me…assuring me that she would always be there to love me and protect me. But, then I still wish she didn’t go away. I was young, so helpless…so powerless then. She could have run away with me, or just endeared till I grew a little older and stronger…to take her away to a less painful place. But she left..left me alone…left me be an orphan!

 I looked outside the window, but there was no sky… Just a flicker of neon lights! As more alcohol flew, I remembered my growing years.

 With age I didn’t become stronger, just more silent. I always prayed to the Lord…prayed, to make me stronger. But, he never did! The monster held me responsible for my mother’s death, and this gave him more excuses to lash out his venom. I was just his hunt whom he would never kill! There was no place to hide..no place to run, and he rejoiced at this prolonged agony of torment! Life moved on, and so did I. I forgot emotions, just a cold numb face said and unsaid my existence! The good Lord watched and did nothing Or maybe He did! He made my father grow older, weaker and above all more ill! The bashings grew less frequent and the pain much easier to bear. By the time I was 13, his liver had stopped regular functioning. I knew he would die soon, and I wanted him to. And then one night he didn’t come home. The next morning, my neighbors accompanied me to the local police station and then the morgue to identify his body. The govt. promised a compensation for the people who died in the “Illicit hooch consumption scandal!”. His death had funded my living till I learned to earn my own. Soon, I left his house , this locality, and the city. Life turned out agreeable…and I moved on!

Years turned, I grew… earned a livable amount…fell in love, married…raised a daughter and had a family. For the first time, I had a life…But it seemed so incomplete! The restlessness of an unfulfilled dream, the pain of an aborted promise woke me up at nights and I wondered if only I could!

An elevated chaos of a neighboring table put me back to this moment. A drunk guy and his vehement pleas for more liquor had agitated the bar administrators. I don’t know; maybe he was cashless or was a potential nuisance…a big blurry guy just picked him and threw him out. It was a little disturbing sight, but normalcy were to establish soon!

I must have had a little too much, if I could fig. out what or how much my limit was! My vision was blurry and I found it a little difficult to clench my empty glass. When the attendant came, I slurred a little to order again. Aaah! The alcohol had had got me, unnerved my senses a little…may be! I reached for my wallet to pay him the amount, when a piece of paper fell on the floor.

I fumbled a little to get it! I opened the folds… my heart sank instantly. There was this ineluctable heaviness pressing me down…a giddiness that put me to unease. It was a refund receipt!

A “refund”…no it wasn’t. It was a note of failure… A broken promise, that I lived to keep… a dream un realized, that I nurtured to fulfill…it was all gone now!

I wanted a drink and I wanted it bad. Before the attendant could place the bottle on the table, I took it from the tray and gulped a neat shot! It didn’t burn…

I eased into my chair, unfolding it carefully this time. No magical surprises to cheer!It was the booking amount minus the deductions. The cheque attached bore the same fig. I smiled! My life savings was not a huge sum, but it was enough to buy me my roof! Ever since I fled those memories, I have carefully replaced them with a dream…the dream of having my own house. My own walls where my name plate would be hung! An address, which wouldn’t have a “C/O” stuck in the second line. A door mat, which wouldn’t lead to rented shelter! May be, I had convinced myself that it was the only way I could repay the debts of my mother’s tears…by giving her a home!

My eyes were moist. I stuttered to myself…”is it too much to ask?”

Ha…! I scatted away such thoughts! Yes it was too much to ask…and yes, it was too much to dream!

I had made my choice; and it seemed as an obvious choice. But my stupid heart wondered, why does responsibility have to outweigh innocent desires? Why does one dream trample over another to realize its existence? Why do people have to grow so greedy? Why does this society, shoo away when it needs to take a stand?

I knew the obvious answers to my deficient, yet innocent questions…and yet I didn’t! The fig. wasn’t a huge no. just the right amount to save a dream. My daughter’s dream! Just the right amt. to stop the groom from returning without marrying my child!

To my daughter, I was a hero…a man strong enough; not to let her marriage be abrogated under the unacceptable demands of the groom’s family. To the society, I was a good father… worthy and dutiful of his commitments towards his family. To my wife, I was a respectable husband…but for me…?

I was just a failure!

The last sip, didn’t feel bitter at all…just a little saline! The place dimmed gradually, and people left to vacate it to emptiness. I was the last to leave… I wiped my face and stood up. I visualized the smile on my daughters face; I knew I did the right thing…it consoled me, stretched a latent smile across my lips.

The people outside the door were merry…singing, bragging and mostly drunk. They smoked, chewed ‘pan’ and littered the alley with spit and urine. Few walked and few were carried. Few lied senseless…and few just staggered back! Somehow In the crowd of unknown faces, I found myself…found myself again!

 My office bag and my uneaten lunch carrier seemed a little heavier today. My feet a little quivering… and my stride, though a little staggered…I walked with a shoulder held high. I thought of my wife and my daughter!

Tonight I didn’t wait for the bus, just walked on the side-walk to take a taxi back to my family. Though I was going to my house, I was returning back to my home!

Note: All characters in the plot are fictional. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead; or any circumstance and place in the past, present or future is purely co-incidental. 

Taashi…

There was something in his eyes. A rare innocence, a touch of purity. They were untainted by the vices of this world. They could narrate a story, if u wished to know. The silence of his lips had so much to tell, only if one had time to hear.

 I wondered if it was a boon or a curse, that people could know what u felt; …felt deep inside, just by looking into your eyes?

Then again, how many in the crowd had time to know? For most of us, Isn’t the pathos of this self righteous life so pronounced that the rest just lingers in the shadow? You may beg to differ, but justify the blindness of the human heart to the pain people bear. Explain why empathy turns a deaf ear to humane cries? I’m no saint or Mother Teresa, who had dedicated my life to the cause of social up liftmen. I’m just another girl, who was tired of running away from insanity!!

Hills have always fascinated me. The freshness of the morning dew… roads which disappeared in the clouds… the array of lights etched through its slopes... There’s no end to reasons, why hills mesmerized me so much. I had always dreamed of living my later years in the valleys… but strange as it may seem…the songs of the mt. birds do not cheer me up no more. The fragrance of the blossom, seemed just as unimportant as ‘usual’. The walk on the road is only tiring!

I had changed..and it was not unknown to me! They say time soothes everything…just that; none clarifies the fact that she only makes u her docile slave! All u do is ’know’, and that’s all! Never retaliate or question…just accept the fact that you are..what she has made you to be! I’m not negating the fact that I have made mistakes in my life, may be…a subtle effort to unburden the heavy load to another shoulder!

Negotiating my time with the pile of ‘to-be-corrected’ answer scripts, the aroma of tea always cheered me up. The slopes were famous for its tea, and somehow the local market did not disappoint to sell the decent blend. There were times when I envied foreigners, for the premium blend was only for exports and the locally badged “premium” felt distinctly unsatisfying, both to my taste and my mood. Time teaches you to adapt… I gave up the regular innocent whining, to adapt to a more reasonable disappointment!

I am a school teacher, and this is the period when kids rejoiced their vacations; and people like us scrutinized their annual progress. A never ending pile of carefully scripted words tried to summarize their knowledge…to which I wondered, if this was the best way to judge a child! But then, I don’t argue no more; just nod at the acceptance of the said pattern.

There are test sheets which make u feel proud at your efforts of educating kids, and then there are the ones which deserve their place only in the trash bin. And in my hand I held one of the later kinds. There’s an established grading pattern which I adhere to, when putting the marks on the scripts….but this bunch of papers annoyed me to the extent of pure disgust. There’s bluffing, and then there’s an effort to make sense…this particular sheet just failed to touch any logical explanation. It seemed just an arbitrary string of words… a rather haphazard arrangement of out of context thoughts.

The annoyance to such nonsense turned into a sudden unease and quietness, when I turned the pages to check the name. “ Aarshiya Bose” !!

She was my student; not the brightest or smartest of the lot..but the kinds who barely passed her grades. She was more on the rebel wild child side, and entire school authority failed to device a punishment that would deter her from following her ways. I had lost count… of the no. of times I had sent her to the Principals Office or the no. of times I had met her parents on grounds of her undisciplined ways and her disrespectful behavior. Every time I looked at her, I wondered why Corporal Punishment was barred from practice and why did I not have the authority to throw her out of this institution!

I guess, being born in a wealthy family always cushions a lot of your expulsion situations… esp. in an institution always in need of donations.

But; beyond all this intolerance, a part of me was attached to her. It was her name…”Aarshiya”. It was a name I had always wanted to adore my daughter with….”Aarshiya”!

My marriage wasn’t any dream wedding. To describe it honestly, would be referring to an epic play of eloping and consequent family drama. The beautiful ideas surrounding, “love forever” ..evolved from movies and novels and perfected by years of courtship; turned to ashes in the pit fire of reality…sooner than I could hold on to. While it all started with a financial commotion, the heavy burden of our unresolved sentiments drifted us further away as days went by. Society and its righteous members, in disguise of concerned relatives never missed an opportunity to add fuel to our volatile situation. Strange even if it may seem; they made one believe, that they were in possession of the knowledge of every consequence that could possibly result of our situation. Even ignorance gave up to their never failing resilience to educate us of corrective measures and then came a point when we believed in things they said. We grew weak…grew too tired to hold on to each other tight!

The time for ‘we’ was lost… It was only a ‘u’ or a ‘me’. Love was long forgotten..and the only thing that kept us talking, was a never ending game of, ’who is to blame’.

There were times, when we both missed the feeling of intimacy, but never understood why it became so difficult to even make an effort to come closer? From living under a roof as strangers…to living alone, life wasn’t yet done with its conspiring twist!

It was painful to see the apartment we furnished and painted in colors of love being packed and sent away, but it was a sheer mockery in front of the disloyalty he gifted me with. Yes, he had another woman in his life! Dreams were shattered, my heart was broken and I was left alone. The world never mentioned his adultery, just pointed at my inability to be a deserving wife.

He blamed me to be the reason for the marriage to fail; this incessant accuse made me believe in him. Now when I sit and think, I realize what a fool I had made out of myself. For months I had cried, silently tolerated the insults, all for what.. Love? I doubt it!! I had made a fool of myself, let myself be used… that’s a feeling that makes my soul drench in derogation.

Like my marital life, the divorce was equally an ugly experience. While Men in black and white darted questions, seeking answers beyond acceptable realms of marital boundaries; an audience witnessed the mockery of marital estrangement.

I promised to myself that in this life ‘love’ would be one thing I’d never feel for another man again!

Time had smoothened the pain to commodious level of ease, but the insanity of forlornness…craved for a Wight touch. There were times I was desperate, and then it all changed into a comfortable numb. At times I wondered if there were still any feelings left in me to emote, so I made myself bleed…to feel, something..that made me believe I was still alive!

My family and friends were distraught. I can’t blame them; there were moments when I believed living was just pointless!! There came a phase, when I wasn’t left alone even for a minute. A prodigal disquietude followed me, wherever I went. I was lost in a sea of a thousand peering eyes, watching every step that I took…it was hard to please anyone who became part of my life, either by their desire to add to my misery or my reluctance to ward them off!

The most surprising fact of life is, it will throw in a twist at the time when u prepare yourself to live and think otherwise!

What started with a coffee conversation, was brewing into a cogent bond lurking beyond the dominion of companionship. He was an old friend, settled on foreign shores. He was back and he made me happy. It was rough and edgy to begin with, but the feeling of being ‘cared’ seeped in imperceptibly. I was mirthful, chirpy as ever. The sun shone bright, the sky seemed ‘blue-r”, the clouds fluffier, the birds sang saliently…Everything made me exultant.

Our amorous escapades, was on an eminence. I was young again, happy and spirited…

But life had its own script to unfold.

Something had happened, and the precipitousness of the event was rather expansive than frightening. It was news I wanted to share with him before I meed-ed it with the world. I dialed his number numerous times… but my calls were left unanswered. He deserves to be the first to know this!

”In the meeting. Will call u back!”. “God damn it!”; stupid text.

 The news was much copious than his board meeting and ‘business tour’.

“Let him be busy with his boring board room strategies!”

I was jubilant, and demanded a snuby pampering for myself. The luxuriant hours in the spa rejuvenated me beyond mere gratification! But I was still restless! I wanted to share it with friends, who were still close to me; so we met up for lunch.   

I tried reaching him a couple of times via phone and text, but his non riposte put me to annoyance! In my heart, I believed that we were ready to take the next obvious step! There was no reason to doubt, his feelings. But, I couldn’t escape this growing fretful unease!!

Post lunch, the girls meandered back to their schedule. I decided to spend time at the nearby mall. I ambled across the shops, stopping at the expensive ones; reviewing the classiest the stores had to offer. I didn’t want to buy anything, still wanted to have the best today!

I was surprised to realize, how this afternoon wandering paused at the kids section. The section felt so different today, it felt so endemic…so heartwarming! The tiny socks, shoes and all the colorful little dresses…I wanted to buy them… buy all of them for my little girl.

“Aarshiya“ … I have cherished the name latently; for long.

My unbound joy suddenly hit a bump; I saw him at the distant aisle. He held a child in his arms. He was with another woman. It didn’t take much time to realize, who she was and the reason of her presence.  

I never believed on this twist of my tale. I... should have realized, that it was only my fatuity that I had credulous in his words. I was blind, and now I was reeling under it! A thousand thoughts crossed my mind… the ‘why’s ‘, ‘how could he’ and so on. I wanted to smash his head, tell his wife about the real ‘he’, scream…shout! But the child in his arms, triggered my dominion. I knew I couldn’t punish the kid, for his/her father’s mistakes.

“Your child is beautiful!” a simple text that was erased instantly conveyed so little, but the irony was…all it did was; shroud a lot!

I never forgave him...never spoke to him. I wasn’t surprised at the Gradual disappearance of his calls and texts.    

I remember the last words the Dr. said, ”Are you sure, this is what u want?”

I never wanted my Aarshiya to be a result of pure carnality. I could never allow that… how could I? 

No limits of self abuse and punishment helped to wash this pain away. I knew I had to run away from the city. Run hard…run fast…run to a place; where no one knew me and I knew no faces. The toxicity of the city poisoned my sanity, and I fled!

The solace of these mountains calmed me. It took a while, for life to return to normalcy! But I am glad that it did.

I felt a little heaviness on my chest, and the moistened eyes needed to be wiped to resume the grading. I firmed myself back.

“ Taplai chai” (your tea!)… a young voice stood near my desk with a cup of tea! I had never seen him.

”Nani timro naam k ho?( what’s your name son?)

“ Mero naam Taashi ho!” (My name is Taashi)

“ Timi yaha k gardaichau?” (what are u doing here?)

“ Taplai chya dinu ko lagi.” (I have come to give u tea.)

“ Hmmmm….Timi kasko chora ho?” (Hmmm…who’s kid are u?)

“ Sabai ley bhancha malai nail ma pako harey!” (People say I am from the sewer!)…His last words ripped my heart apart!

He was a young lad, barely in the fifth year of existence. Draped in a make shift cardigan, which failed its promise to be a savior from the harshness of this cold; he stood coy! His looks were pale, but his eyes shined bright…there was so much, they could tell!

A touch of rare warmth filled me as I embraced him in my arms…he stood still, unmoved by this act of desolate kindness. I refused to let him go..

 For I knew, for the first time…I held someone who would never leave me…I held someone, I could call my own!

Note: All characters and incidents in the story are fictional. Any resemblance to a person, living or dead; or incident is purely co-incidental.

I called it…”The Last Shot..!”

Alcohol and age, both have a similarity; they tend to transport u to a world that u wished it were. Those high paying researchers argue, it slows down your senses and think ability; but I beg to differ.

I have never been governed by any health practitioner’s words of caution. I think they are all a part of the big conspiracy! Yes, the big money making scheme which is funded by the multibillion dollar pharmaceutical co’s; roping in anyone and everyone who would help them boost their yearly profitability. “ Don’t have this, never have that..take this medicine, use that therapy..” all crap talk. They really don’t want u to be well, they just wanna tone down the level of your illness, prolong it and treat it with fancy new med’s or procedures.

Wow! Simply malevolent; yet Lord bless them, and they be praised for all their help.

 Here.. “cheers, to all you fiends..” thank you for telling me u know when I die.”

No I’m not rich like you, I struggle to make both ends meet; but do u really think I’m that cheap to keep a count of how many glasses of alcohol I had? “Haaan…”

“U know my friend, today was the last day of work! I’m not retired..that would still be an honorary thing, they don’t want me anymore out there!!”

“40 years…40 years, my friend ; my life has just been a cycle of waking up, walking the streets. The sun neva bothered me, my ol’ umbrella held me against the rain. Though I never fancied the snow, what I dreaded the most ; was this city’s ever growing noxious traffic .”

“Grill 89 & Bar!!”. “ What a beautiful place; the furniture..food…ambience..cutlery…music; oh did I tell you about the cellar? The best that I have ever seen! ”

“Of course, I told u about it. How can u forget about Halloween…eeh ,the one we celebrated with the stolen bottle of the finest Spanish Rioja! Oh, u selfish scoundrel… u don’t even remember, the huge amount of alcohol I had stolen for u over this long! You disgust me..”

My black and whites, were the signature of my authority. The bronze finish Name plate, the clean shoes, well ironed suits... I loved them all. I was not just doing my job, I was living every moment of it. I might not have achieved things farfetched in life, but I was happy with a lighter load of remorse.

An alcoholic father and his obsession for hookers; kept me out of the house on most occasions. Growing up in a neighborhood of meth labs, pick up spots and swarming peddlers; shaped my younger years into a cloud of conjuring melee. Things seemed wrong, and then surprisingly; they felt right! Neither of us wanted each other around, and both had made arrangements to make sure that we saw less of one another. But there was one time, I really prayed he was around. The only time I wished to see my father!

The cops had a deal, some sort of an agreement with the drug lord; they heated up the officials pockets and in turn the cops let them carry their business at less pain. It was understood; these frequent raids were only a cover up, more like a routine drill. U see, the higher Feds had to be ascertained that the local authority were doing their part to eliminate crime.

But there’s always a twist in the tale.. “Wrong place…wrong time!”  . Arrested under possession of narcotics, a list of charges were pressed against me! I realized, I was an scapegoat of a deal gone wrong! There was no chance of coming out clean. I wasn’t part of any nexus, neither was bail an option to contemplate. The court neva believed my case, so I spent a long time in the “Juvie”!

There was no rehabilitation, just a slow process to turn you into a cold hearted anti-social element. Time ran slow, time was just about days turning into nights, and nights into days..The frequent brawls, at times entertained an at times made me bleed in solitary. In that dark chamber, I thought of the world. There were times I wished I be smoking under the sun, breathing free air; and then there were thoughts that this solitude was a better life.

 The world beyond the barbed wires was just limited to thoughts that the mind had collected over the period spent outside this detention. 3 years, was a long time! Long enough to accept, no one will ever come to see u.

A day came when I stepped out, or lemme put it this way..when I was “Rehabilitated”. It’s a little clichéd when u realize how much effort the Govt. takes  to fit u in to society; when all they achieve is, label u a misfit! Nothing was the same anymore, nothing seemed to be the same no more. I saw the world in a different light and I’m dead sure, it only had a monochromatic hue for me.

I was changed..foreva! I promised myself neva to go back to the same ol’ block. And till this date I have honored it.

A borrowed  canvas bag stuffed with old clothes, and 80 dollars from the hidden stash; I bid adieu to the town..my eyes never went moist, just a sigh of relief when I boarded the bus.

The journey was long, and I had no destination.

City and its ways were nothing like I have ever seen before. Tall buildings, fancy cars, fashionable people ..you think about it..its right there! A dream world all together, shining bright even at night.

No shelter, erratic food source and dwindling funds..seemed awfully less painful than the life I lived. My days as a cell inmate, had taught me to keep troubles at bay. Though the dark, lonely alleys provided shelter..it refused to protect u from trouble and trouble makers. Muggers, law enforcers weren’t much of an unease, it's only the street dogs that gave me a hard time.

Life was not normal, but neva was it supposed to be easy. Earning a living was hard. Food came from thrown left over’s; the only bliss was, people never knew where I came from, what I had done, nor what I never did. To the society I was just a street dweller, not a convict! No human, no man…just a life form on the street!

 From the trash thrower… to news paper boy… to innumerable odd job guy, life changed one evening when I went to deliver a pizza in an up class apartment.

I rang the bell, but no one answered. Pressed it a couple more times; but still, came no reply.  As I was about to slide a note under the door; reading, the “Sorry! We missed you/ You didn’t answer the door…” template, I heard a faint cry of choke. Startled, I tried opening the door. I slammed it, pushed it; yelled,” if anyone was in there?” but there was no response. A few vigorous rams and the door finally broke.

Inside lay a man, gasping for breath! I ran towards him, and I knew, that 25 dollars had to come from my pay. I couldn’t make sense of the sounds that came out of his mouth, but I figured that he needed his inhaler! I ransacked the surrounding, and I swear..God was with me that night; I found his inhaler! I revived him, called up 911!

 Moments later a big white Van took him away. I returned back to deal with the heckle of my owner. Little did I know, life was about to take a new turn.

The next day, my boss called me into his office on an urgent note! I knew, it had to be the remittance of the pizzas that were not delivered last night. Yes, it was…and to my surprise no it wasn’t! Turns out, that the guy I saved was a rich man, owner of an up class restaurant/ fine diner in the city. He wanted to meet me. The tone of my owner suggested that all losses incurred last night have been taken care off! A relief!

This time the knock on the ol’ door was greeted by a “come in”! Mr. Hantiesto Bordeaux, looked very diif. from the man I saved the night before. He was impeccably dressed, a glass of scotch in his hand and a Cuban burning between his fingers! He offered me a drink, which I gladly accepted. The morning rolled with  honest gratitude, stories about life, heart breaks and concluded with me being appointed as the head waiter in his restaurant.

An appreciable pay cheque, a small living facility of my own…life started looking good.

Years rolled, and I grew older. I fell in love. Sophie! A beautiful young damsel in her mid twenties! She had ivory dark hair, skin like butter and a body to make one want her for life. Romance drew us close, and passion even closer.

Everything seemed perfect, when the dream collapsed on the night I caught her with Kevin in the food stock area.  

“She broke my heart! Took my life away…took away the very meaning to live.”

I wasn’t recuperating, just taking solace in the company of my new found friend…Alcohol!

“Do u remember, when and how we met? Even I don’t know…but what the heck! What matter’s is…You; have been a good friend and.. stuck to my side for long. Cheers!”

“You know, there’s another regret, because of my drinking my work…my life…my friends…my reputation  and my ways…they have all gone down the sewage! !

“My fault, agreed…but they don’t want me anymore out there.  Yes, I have grown old; my audible and visionary senses are not at peak, but I try…u know..to work!”

“My hands tremble at times, I forget things…so? U don’t start disrespecting me for that! I have given so much to the restaurant..my life, it’s all there..but..(sigh!!!) “

“Forgive your old mate’s blabber…do u wanna know why I asked you to come over?” I retired today…”

“They gave me this…(A bottle of Jack Daniel’s) how cheap can these buggers get; a life time’s commitment wrapped in a token of 38 dollars worth bottle. Wallaaah!”  

  Aaah..worlds famous bourbon whisky, lovingly called ‘Jack’. I’m not sure what the guys in the T.V were blabbering about ; world, politics, social concerns, weather …the fact is I didn’t give a rats ass to what was goin on in that 21” screen. May be it was jack’s stupefaction or the cannonade of the remorse’s of the life I had lived for so long; whatever it was I just had no clue.

 I sat on my old chair, drinking with my old friend. When I remembered, I had bought something!

Inside my bag, wrapped in a clumsy looking box was my gift; a gift I had promised myself as a retirement reward. With shaky hands, I kept it on the table.

I unboxed her, and boy; did she wear a dull shine. No doubts, she looked Beautiful! The Windicator, 38spl 2” 6sh Blue… and under $170, she was quite a bargain. Alex was stunned, may be more inclined on confusion at this purchase, but to hell with him..its not about what he wants. Tonight was about me.

By the time, the bottle served us the last round; we were done arguing..

 “Alex, my friend. You have been a good friend to me; stood by me when there was no one around, wiped my tears, never let me drink alone…heard my sorrow’s, laughed at my stupid humor… I ask u one last favor…”

I slid the gun across the table !

“We had a good run together…free me, my friend!”

As I took the last sip, I closed my eyes…never realized; when death came and walked away!!

PS: There's no Alex!!

Serenity

My name is Hwkoba(pronounced as Ho-ko-baa) and  I belong to the tribe called HUAMAKAWA(A-mah-ka). My tribe was the most dreaded warrior tribe in the entire savannah’s. With warriors trained to kill a lion with bare hands, we were the most fearless, deadliest and ruthless among all the known habitants that walked this part of earth.

Ever since boys in our tribe learned to stand on their feet, they were trained. Trained to be ruthless, fearless and painless. We walked on thorns, till we bled dry…stayed in the wild for days; away from the comfort of home, food and water for days may be months, only to learn the basic instinct for survival. May be your mother would scream at you if u skipped your meal, maybe she would even lure you with the promise of a toy to feed you with your desired nourishment!  But that would be your mother.

A failed task, a failed exercise or even failure to hear a command…your modern day term of ‘corporal punishment’ would be lashed at its full vengeance. Branches of thorns carefully stitched with hay straws, ripping our flesh apart with no signs of mercy! This was not inhuman, but merely a daily routine to manifest a young soul to be a warrior. No I was an exception, no one could be one. A mother’s pride was deeply engraved in the ruthlessness of her off-springs future potent to emerge as a warrior. May be that’s why the love of a mother was veiled beneath the warrior skills of her Offspring, and may that’s how it had been for generations.

Hunting for food, killing for power and beheading opponent’s to flag our dominance..it was the only way of life we knew. Did we have a heart, I don’t know! We were never brought up to feel more than the agony of defeat; and turn it into rage, a fire that would burn any soul living or dead to ashes of non-existence.  Our limitation of mercy was restricted only to the youngest male of the tribe, spared to spread the tale of horror our aftermath left. We not only killed villagers and burnt villages to cinders, we created folklores of terror!! Tales that spread the savannah ,  faster than wildfire.  HUAMAKAWA was the new word for terror!

The journey from teen to manhood was celebrated by a rigorous ceremony called “Twahitak” (spelt as Wa-eh-tay). Only after the completion of years of rigorous training of the HUMAKAWA warrior calisthenics a young lad would enter the first stage of man-hood.

 It begun with the tribe priests offering prayers to our Tribe Gods. A prayer with animal sacrifices,  to make us stronger than ever before. ..More powerful than years of privation could render them.

The next stage was standing strong to a duvet cover of bee’s. Covered all over, in bee stings men stood strong from hours where the sun shone to the brightest to sunset. Few died, and the handful who survived, made way to the next phase.

A day of healing and then came the most dreaded ritual of them all. The survivor’s skin was cut in a definite pattern which defined our tribe. Cut and left to dry were pattern’s , which made the warriors body resemble a crocodiles skin. Blood ran down like water, but compassion was numbed by honour. And warriors still lived!

The following day was summoned by priests, as an appreciation ritual! Prayers, thanking the holy spirits to bless the warrior child’s of the tribe. While the warriors recuperated from the poison of the stings, laced by herbs specially prepared by the healers, the rest joined the ceremonies.

The next phase was the one which begun the cycle of life. Women who reached their puberty, lined up to entice the warriors. An elaborate period of teasing and enticing, culminated to a selection of individual mates.

The next day was a celebration to bless the matrimony of these warriors and virgins, in matrimony of life. This was the biggest celebration of our tribe. There was feasting, laughter, indiscipline in mannerism and a light heartedness in the air. Everything seemed colorful, righteous, and happy. Everyone seemed different; everyone seemed to live…understand the real essence of life. Though short lived, it was my favourite part of life, which recycled according to schedules of The Tribe Priests.

I wasn’t a warrior. I had failed to prove myself as a worthy son and an eminent bearer of the warrior legend. Was I spared? No..the punishment was beyond the imagination of thoughts. If you ever understood pain, you would want to learn more. Cause the pain you might have ever felt or thought would be beyond the realms of human tolerance or realization may start to seem too trivial to even compare. I am talking about a feeling which is just the inception of the point, were the real feeling paralyzes the body and senses. Imagine yourself to be in a river, live with leeches and your body covered with red ants; eating you at their own pace of collection. And now imagine endless hours stranded there, in cold..in pain..praying to be dead. But u would not be; you would just be alive to realize how merciful death could be.  

You might consider that the emotions that you carry is the one that defines the epitome of logical belief and consideration of facts; but if you spare yourself a little more time and patience to understanding life beyond the norms of your modern living, you can see the real face of pain. The ugly truth that would leave u scared for the remaining part of life you choose to exist. This is not a typical campfire story that would send a chill up your spine, but a narration of events that would answer your queries to the marks that has scared my skin.

Yes, I found solace in carving rocks, scratching stones to depict life and its beauty. It reflected my idea of life and beauty. From mountains to clouds, highlands to water..everything under the sun  was my subject; caves and rocks were my canvas. Though sketched in shades of gray; it was my vivid extravaganza of life’s colors, in a palette of living. These marks on dead stones gave me more content than my contemporaries who rejoiced living in tearing flesh…either to feed their hunger or to satisfy the innate thirst for blood. I was different, and unlike my folks I never shunned away from telling the real me; the person I was! That was my fault, my crime.. I wasn’t a warrior, just a dreamer in a land of merciless living! This was reason more than enough for the heads of the tribe to subject me to a life of humiliation and low living.

I was a disgrace to my parents and my tribe. And every moment I lived, I was forced to realize the fact of this low life. When the warriors rejoiced, I catered to their needs of food and recreation. They would kick me, make me fetch things like a dog, make fun of me and on every intoxicated shindig…an endless whipping and display of power would leave me tattered to the ground; helpless and bleeding! My tears were only a sign of weakness; no one could ever apprehend the fact that pain might even make eyes moist!

I wasn’t a hunter even. My daily errands would be primarily concerned with grazing cattle, waiting for hours to catch fish or collect wild berries.  I could find more than enough time; to scratch a lonely rock or walls of caves , with forms that depicted life and the world around me. This solace was my only friend, my escape from reality.

Life passed from one day to another, nothing changed…neither the humiliation nor my work as a food gatherer. The insults eagerly changed from incivility to unbearable tolerance. I wanted to escape, every minute I lived; I prayed to run away. May be I was a coward to kill myself to escape this life, but I believed life was more than just this. My mood reflected in my carvings. From flowing forms of intricacy, it had changed to dark scribbles of horrific pattern. Something was killing me, inside slowly yet progressively. My years, were giving away docility. I was getting angry, not pitiful at my condition. I felt anger, and I wanted to avenge all the wrong doings people had subjected me to.

Rage lit up my heart, so wild and powerful it burnt everything that was around. Yes it did! My repressed emotions burst into flames of vengeance; fuelled by a heavy intoxication of the locally brewed alcohol, I created a blood bath.

A moment of madness and intoxication, and a sphere… I had killed our tribes most fearsome warrior. I knew  I would never be spared for such defiance; so I ran in the darkness of the night. I ran till I feel unconscious.

The next morning when I opened my eyes, a severe head ache pinned me down. But as I gathered incidents of the night, I ran again. My tribe would be hunting for me and I knew it for sure they would only return with my head on the leaders spear. I hid, I ran; to places I knew and places I didn’t. I ran for my life! Memories of family, my tribe and my life flashed at convenient intervals; but I knew I was free. So I ran.. like a bird I flew, flew to my freedom.

To unknown lands, bazaars and human settlements; life had turned into a struggle for survival. Communication was a hindrance, food a scarcity and living a challenge. But for the first time I felt free, I had a reason to live, to see another day. I was alone, scared and tired, but somehow I lived.

My travel took me to the shores. For the first time in my life I saw water so clear; so vast spread. It stretched to where my eyes could to see and may be beyond. The sea met the sky and it was beautiful. Big wooden vessels floated on water. They were huge, colourful and nothing like I had ever seen. Men of various colours and attires hovered in and around the ports. I had never seen such diversity of people, sounds and structures. It was daunting. My deer hide cover had withered away long back. Hay straws tried binding the fallen pieces, but it barely succeeded.

I sat in a corner munching on food I stole from a stand, when a hand touched my shoulders. A guy, who looked from this land held out more food for me. I was hungry, I snatched it and devoured even the last grain. He spoke in my language. I was surprised, I tried to run away; but he caught me.

He wasn’t from my tribe, but knew my language. He said his name was Jabari, and could help me get food. We spoke all night. He spoke about me the ways of this part of the world. How work, gives money to buy food and clothes. What ships were. Most of his words were like your modern day fairy tales, but most of what he said remained unclear to me. He took me to his shelter, and after very long I slept at peace.

Over days and months, he taught me to fit into this world. I worked as a puller in the docks. I had a job, money to buy food and a shelter to protect me from the atrocities of nature. Our bond had grown stronger over the period that we knew each other. It was a feeling more intense than we could realize. We were in love and We knew it. Life seemed beautiful and I believed I had found the real meaning of existence.

We were happy, our love knew no bounds;yet we were cautious to save and keep its identity away from the world.

Little did I know, life had a diff. story on its cards.  After the usual loading and unloading errand, I returned home. Jabari wasn’t there. I waited, cooked our meal and waited… waited for him to return. But he didn’t. I kept awake all night. Stepped out to inquire if anybody had seen him, but I returned with no news. I knew about his repute of being a smuggler. Previously he had been absent for long, but it was diff. this time. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and years past. He was gone; disappeared mystically or may be killed in cross fire. No one seemed to know, none seemed to care. Life moved on, but there was vacuum which made me bleed. Memories that haunted me, questions which kept knocking for answers.

My health was deteriorating; pneumonia had weakened me. And the never ending bout of headache and diarrhea had taken its toll. I had lost immense amount of weight and my body was covered with ugly swellings.  As time passed, my body was giving up on me; I was unable to do the simplest activities of daily living. I knew I was dying, I couldn’t move anymore… 

I closed my eyes..I saw a vast field, green with grass. A clear sky.. a rainbow. I saw a tree, beneath it was a man. His voice was familiar. He called my name, I walked towards him..he was Jabari. I broke down; asked him, why he had left me? He smiled and said,” I have come to take you with me.”

I breathed my last breath.. I finally found peace a pure sense of happiness, I waited all my life for. I was finally free!!  

Just another bovine cogitation..

Why do you wake me up in the middle of the night?

Why does your touch make me feel that everything’s going to be all right?

I know you are not with me, then

 Why do u make me crave for you, when I realize you can never me mine?

Why do I wake up and still laze around for you to get me out?

Why do I miss the hustle for the towel, when I know you will win the bout?

Why do I pretend that you are going to complain if my tie doesn’t match?

Why do I still believe that a kiss is the perfect way to patch?

Why do I play with my phone, when I know its never going to read your no.?

Why does my act make me look dumber?

Why do I still remain in office working late, when I know it’s not the dead line’s that need to be met?

Why do I stop at the ice cream van and just stare; I know I look like an idiot, then

Why can’t I just buy what I get?

Why do I still order food, when my groceries rot in the fridge?

Why do I still fool myself to believe that tonight we can mend the bridge?

Why is that the only thing that gives me a little happiness, come in measurements of milliliters?

Why is it that I can’t watch TV alone without reading your letters?

Why did my laptop suddenly become my best friend?

Why do I think, my sanity has come to an end?

Why do I still wait for you to call me to bed?

Why does the ash tray ever be less piled with sticks that are dead?

Why do I doze off in the chair every night?

Why is it that I need to Hold on to you tight?

Why do I look at the mirror and see a fool?

Why do I drown so deep in a memory rich pool?

Why is “why” the only question I ask?

Why do I still wait for an answer, when I know it’s an uphill task?

It all makes sense now, when I realize

You are just a bad dream…I need to let go now!

I can still forgive you for what you took away, but

Why did you leave me with so much hatred that never seems to go away? 

Note: Excerpt from "My Little Black Book !"

And it rained all night…

Rains in the month of April doesn’t surprise me anymore…after all global warming and season shifts do take a toll on the natural course of nature. So its not that surprising or unusual to accept this sudden pour from the blue at a time which would be considered untimely in the subcontinent! But this shower doesn’t make me think of ecological imbalance in the blue planet; the concern is to prevent my bachelor pad from being soiled by the on- slaught of the vehement wind.

 At times it’s nice to return home unexpectedly at the time, u are supposed to log off from the time punching machines. U can’t stop the smile stretching your lips when you are not being interrupted by a heavy traffic of eager home goers after a hard day of work. So today I’m home at a time I’m supposed to be…

Switching on the lights, I’m greeted by the anarchy of clothes and the mess a non-organized bachelor’s pad can offer. But I don’t mind; it’s a visual or arrangement I’m rather comfortable or to least say adapted to over a pretty long period.  The only thing that I recommend myself to keep in place of order or reach, are my house and car keys; so keeping them at their specified allocation I hit my favorite asset in this confinement…my recliner (aka GRUMPY)!

The breeze was turning from a delightful breathe to a hurried gush. I didn’t mind or rather just didn’t pay bother to the weather outside. Surfing channels is actually better than viewing one particular telecast; I understand it might be annoying for co-viewers, but there’s no one else to share my space with..so doesn’t really matter.

A bachelor’s best friends are his couch, his TV and a bottle of scotch. Though occasionally beer tags on; but given the present set up…its JD on the rocks. I thanked myself for at least filling up the ice trays, cause most of the time they would be found in the sink…waiting for a wash or refill! So the glass is clean, the bottle has appreciable quantity of happiness; just the perfect recipe for the Champion Leagues Semi’s. Its Barcelona taking on Real Madrid; only a fool would miss it. And I am not one; so it’s the perfect setup to kick start a splendid evening.

Bourbon on the rocks is always a mood setter. It’s almost therapeutic , the effects of sipping it slowly; savoring the woody taste….aaah! Pure indulgence!

My first drink, I always toast to “the women I loved…n the women I lost!”. People exclaim it from being weird to cool; but it’s just respect for time and memories that has shaped up my existence of the present!

The commentators are on the sets suited up, the experts take their dig on the sides and the ESPN logo flashes ‘LIVE’. Wow!

Grumpy is ageing and the signs of it clearly shows on his arms and his forever dysfunctional legs! Just a flick of the switch doesn’t do the tricks, a severe manual pull and push needs to be exercised to get him in ‘mode: comfort’. I would be lying if I said it doesn’t annoy me, but he’s been there with me for long. Taking good care of me, comforting me and listening to my endless blabber when I was happy or when eyes couldn’t stop the tears! Over the years we have formed a strong bond, and though my acquaintances suggest he be replaced; I choose to ignore such comments. What surprises me the most is the fact that, people today just want replacements. This doesn’t work..replace, that ain’t convenient…replace! Can’t they just spend a little time to mend things? I guess not; so I think, for most the easy way is the best way…   

So arranging grumpy took some time, but now that he is in the desired mode; I can enjoy the game! But, viewing the semis just like a regular viewer watching a soccer match, will take away the magnanimous proportions of such an event. So, I rush to my closet and dig in the ’10 jersey of Barcelona. It’s a complete set with the shorts, one of my priced possessions. Now I’m set for the game in stripes of red and blue!

A toast and the kick off.. Estadio Santiago Bernabéu – Madrid, jam packed with over a million maniac supporters cheering their teams. It is a delight even far away from Madrid! The magic of HD..

The match is under way.

1' : Pedro Rodríguez (Barcelona) commits a foul after challenging Arbeloa (Real Madrid).

3' : Keita (Barcelona) commits a foul after challenging L. Diarra (Real Madrid).

4': Xavi Hernández (Barcelona) has an effort on goal.

    Casillas (Real Madrid) makes a save.

    Cristiano Ronaldo (Real Madrid) has an effort on goal.

     Víctor Valdés (Barcelona) makes a save.

5' : Sergio Ramos (Real Madrid) fouls.

7' : Keita (Barcelona) commits a foul after challenging Sergio Ramos (Real Madrid).

8' : Pedro Rodríguez (Barcelona) commits a foul after challenging Arbeloa (Real  Madrid).

11' : Villa (Barcelona) misses the target.

12' : L. Diarra (Real Madrid) commits a foul after challenging Busquets (Barcelona).

13' : L. Diarra (Real Madrid) commits a foul after challenging Xavi Hernández      (Barcelona).

21' : Marcelo (Real Madrid) takes the corner.

25' : Xavi Hernández (Barcelona) has an effort on goal.

        Casillas (Real Madrid) makes a save.

26' : Arbeloa (Real Madrid) is flagged for offside.

29' : Pepe (Real Madrid) commits a foul after challenging Daniel Alves (Barcelona).

       Xavi Hernández (Barcelona) takes the free-kick.

30' :Xavi Hernández (Barcelona) misses the target.

…The door bell rang! Damn it, it’s a wild storm outside and someone still had to come to gulp a free beer. With much disgust I opened the door. It wasn’t my crew..it was her!

I was speechless, wondering if it was really her or it was just an imagination. She looked beautiful, and though the drizzle had drenched her to unease..she looked even more desirable. Her open hair had always made me skip a few beats and it didn’t fail today. She pushed her way in, arguing what took me so long to open the door! I stood at the door, while she fetched the towel to dry her hair.

I missed her so much, and now she was here.. behaving nothing had happened, ever!

“Stop staring big bear, close the door!”. I did, but still benumb! She came closer, hugged me tight and pressed her soft lips against mine. “I missed you so much! Damn, the traffic was mad…” she kept soliloquizing; about how hectic her day was, her increased work load and so many other things which my mind failed to divulge. She eased on Grumpy, patting him for looking after me while she was gone.

 I watched her flummoxed..her eyes, her lips, the way her hair was undone..the inebriation of her neck and the audacity of her curves outlined through her wet attire. I was reeling under uncontrolled passion, I had missed her for too long. I had missed such feelings ever since she was gone.

The way I looked at her, she knew my mind!

“Pass me a beer!” , she said changing the channels to watch Desperate housewives. My silence was finally broken. “Hun, it’s the semi’s today. Please let me watch the game”

“Sorry! I need to catch up on DHW, been long and it’s the new season.”  She sprang up and kissed me, “ my pumpkin…I Love u”. I knew there was no way I could convince her to let me watch the game.

I opened a chilled pint for her and again the door bell rang!

“ Do u have clean shorts?”. I pointed to the stack of ironed clothes; she hop scotched into my bed room and closed the door to change.

I leaned against the door to let myself in, but she barred my intentions.

“No trespassing, be a good boy …now go and check the door!”

I opened the main door to find my crew loaded with beer and fried chicken. Damn! I love them, but not today. I got my girl with me and things seemingly tuned to be romantic; and this army is a mayhem, just the perfect deterrent to my situation for the night!

“What took u so long to open the door?” Mac came in and the rest followed.

“Dude, Desperate Housewives? You gotta be kidding me. U are wearing the stripes and watching soap opera over Barca?”

The channel was immediately changed to ESPN, while everyone settled uncorking their pints!

The first half was over, and it was 20 mins into the second half. Both the teams tied to no score!

“Why JD and beer at the same time?”, Rob exclaimed!

“Beers for..”, I fumbled, but they didn’t take a notice. My bed room door was open! I rushed in to check on her. But there was no one. The bathroom was empty too.

As I came out; Ralph picked,” did u just see a ghost or something?”

I realized she was never here…she was never meant to be! She wasn’t supposed to hold me, kiss me…she wasn't supposed to be in love with me. But I believed she was here tonight, not just a fantasy of my evolved imagination but for real. 

I thought about all of it as Barcelona won 2- 0 against arch rivals Real Madrid, the celebrations went on all night long. The froth of the lager running through out…but in my heart I found the same feeling of despair, while my head associated the events as an effect of discontinuing my prescribed dosage of Zyprexa. 


 As friends parted,the feeling of being left alone… left in the open kept me awake, as it rained all night long!

Note: All charecters and events in the story are fictional. Any resemblance to a person('s) living or dead or situation in the past, present or future is purely co-incidental!

I Miss You

Not a day passes when I don’t miss you,

Not a moment goes when I don’t think about you!

I pick up the phone to call u

But that’s when inhibitions ask me,” why the hell would you?”

I wish I could text you,

But I know they would never be delivered to you;

I wonder what good, technology has done to us?

Damn, what a joke…we don’t even have time to laugh at us!

I cook for myself now,

Cause your new lover pays your pizza bills with a gentle bow!

 I miss you screaming at me when I leave the tap on,

Cause deep down I know, I’m just an episode by gone!

The messed up bed reminds me of you.

The tears let me know; it’s someone else now, who sleeps close to you.

I wipe my tears and call up my  pal,

That’s when I realize it connected to your voicemail dial!

I try keeping myself occupied in work and play;

But It seems that the only work I do..is try an fight your memories everyway!

 I promise myself I won’t ever think about you every night,

That’s when the loneliness grips me even more tight!

The city had colors we once painted together,

Now, there’s only the reminiscence of a trust broken forever.

All I wanted was to treasure these memories to cherish,

Alas; you failed me with reasons to make them perish!

I want you to be happy wherever you are;

Just say a “Hi”, if we ever crossed in a bar.

I love you true, I hope u realize someday,

“ I Miss You” will make more sense to you only that day!

  

PS: This is so freaking lame!!!

Barah Aana

I was feeling out of place, to say the least! These new clothes, my son said fitted me well; but I sweated in them more than I have ever perspired in my entire life. The Air Conditioning system of this swanky, uber class restaurant wasn’t faulty; it was me who didn’t fit in the scene! To be honest, I have never entered a restaurant; leave alone the fact of using cutlery. I was at unease when food was laid out at the table, so well prepared and well served…it gave me a new realization to the concept of food!

In all scrupulousness, my closest encounter to an eatery was the mangy road side arrangement of broken benches and make shift tables, which served a meal of rice and pulses for a meager 2 rupees. I was a rickshaw puller; that was my profession and my way of earning a livelihood. 7 to 10 rupee a day, didn’t leave much to save for indulgence in the seemingly insignificant joy’s of life.  My wife’s errand as a domestic helper added a few extra vegetables to the meal, but food was mostly a scarcity to feed my family of four. Happiness seemed a luxury amongst the chaos of traffic lights, the smoke of automobiles and the draconian weather conditions. I was paid for ferrying weights; over laden by scoffing of humans or the silence of objects, life moved as long as the wheels rolled!

The city had given me a rare dream, a dream which I had nurtured since the time I left my village. An incorrupt dream..a belief that I wouldn’t sleep hungry for days! From working at a tea stall, to various odd jobs I have seen the city grow. I grew, but the city matured much faster. From living in disowned drainage pipes, to deserted park benches, bus stops and pavements.. it was always a crusade to have a peaceful sleep; uninhibited by the stroll of night guards or the showers of rain or more lately the trifling occurrences of the rich. Over the years, my insignificant savings had allowed me to rent a room. I was happy; I had an arrangement to be called ‘Home’.

I never conundrumed myself for the reason of my marriage; maybe it was the loneliness of my heart or passion of youth or a demand disguised in customs of this society I entered a new phase of life. She was young and lived in the same locality. Our marriage was arranged and blessed by the elders of the neighborhood, through a small celebration of rituals and feasting…I took home my new bride! Over the years, our union bore us a son and a baby girl. But by the time the young chap could learn the affairs of the twisted human mind, she eloped with her lover. One of the drivers in the household she worked. I realized money spoke and comforted more than love ever did in this ever changing city. When you are abandoned with a toddler and questions unanswered; life surprisingly catapults you towards the dingy sheds of locally brewed alcohol and emotions wrapped in tears of unvalued living soon finds solace in the dark alleys of a red light area!

Poverty and my new bohemian life pattern gave way to inadequate care, lack of nourishment and an unhealthy living condition for my children. Though the doctor, appointed by an NGO, confirmed the death of my little girl by malaria; I knew it was me who had killed my daughter! Her death detached me further away from all family ties and responsibilities.

 Amongst this chaos my son was growing up. I provided him with food, shelter, clothing and sleepless nights caused by the pain of unjustifiable whipping. I never realized when I had turned into a monster. The scorn of the world, the intoxicated brawls and the loneliness inside had killed the traits of being a father.

 I do not blame him for running away the night I made him bleed for stealing my money. I realized he too had the genes of his mother; I never saw him in years, my son…only a rage prevailed that he stole money from me. I had cursed; that he died..Disowned him as mine, I pledged that I would never see his face again! With him gone, the last link of my family had broken and I was once again left alone.

As years passed, I grew weaker and my indulgence in liquor had injected in me a series of ailments, I never had money to cure! I no longer pulled the rickshaw, which was now banned by the govt. My mental stability was dwindling on the side of being deranged, and acquaintances were fast dwindling. Food was a now on the generosity of the remaining old friends and ever fading known faces.

This morning, the hustle of the street urchins disturbed my peaceful nap. It wasn’t their usual teasing or calling me with derogatory names or pulling a prank; the excitement of a big white car had gripped the neighborhood.

“Baba”… an unfamiliar voice echoed in my ears! A young lad in formal attire was standing in front of me. My delusive mind failed to recognize his identity. I tried to evade any conversation with this unfamiliar man, but his words had surprisingly struck a chord in my dried up heart. My old eyes were moist but I didn’t allow my tears to roll! The gathering eventually disappeared leaving the two of us to attempt a conversation. My son had bought me new clothes and toiletries; it was a while since I had the luxury of using such novelties. Though I tried to refuse, the hunger born out of days of starvation made me clean up and put on these new clothes. This man had promised to buy me lunch!

I was quite all the way, as his car drove us to a big restaurant. Neither did the dazzle of the ambience   catch my fancy nor did the occurrences of all the events since morning stir in me any thought to be baffled. The only feeling that was prevalent was hunger and the wait for food to arrive!

At the table the gentle man spoke of his growing years, his career and his success. I tried to pay attention to everything he had to say, but just couldn’t understand a word. His expressions kept changing from anger to concern and unrest. He had tears in his eyes at times, which he wiped with a pleasant smelling handkerchief. He asked me questions, I couldn’t relate or answer to; an eerie quietness spread across my face.

 The uneasiness of the young lad was disturbed by the food brought at the table. I stared at it but couldn’t eat. I had never used a fork or a spoon and my deranged mind didn’t know what to do. My animal like attempt to eat by hands from the plate infused a violent and uncontrollable rage in the man across the table. With a volley of sharp words and mighty swing he threw the entire serving on the floor.

I was horrified; covered my face to evade the peering eyes of people around and more so, to hide from the wrath of this lad. I sat on my chair watching the cleaners and waiters bring back normality to the scene, but the pain of hunger finally made me sob.

My lad returned to the table after a brief absence. I don’t know where he went, but he returned with a little composure. He placed an envelope on the table, said it would take care of me for a while! He added, that food would be packed and be given to me in a while and a man would escort me back. I sat there, still unmoved by his words.             

” I don’t know if it’s my remorse or my revenge; may be the repayment of your stolen Barah Anna’s!” … Before he left he placed a few coins on the table! 

Note: All characters and incidents in the article are fictional. Any resemblance to a person living or dead and situations in the past, present or future is purely coincidental!