Farther Away...

One loses to a number of causes….one ages for different reasons…one dies through multiple symptoms. You wake up one morning and realize you have lost those cells that carried those few drops of love in your system…

How weird it sounds…unreal, ‘out-of-the-world’ kind… Yes it does. But I promise you its true. You can look into the mirror and see those fine wrinkles, those dark patches under your gray eyes, a witness to the toil you do…a toil you no more have a reason for… that’s death. Silent and growing.

The dreams have abandoned your sleepy brain as you simply notice the dirty sheet you wake up on and that clock that pushes you towards oblivion. The scariest part is to lose those important words. They are naked now…barren…single-colored…eliciting no response. He doesn’t clap, doesn’t laugh, doesn’t notice. And you move just an inch closer to death.

It all passes by you each day. You begin to wonder how you lived in those belated days, when the breath came easy and the smile reappeared often. It makes you bitter. The falsity of the effort grows. The purpose of the talk fades away. And you clutch that finality. The finality of standing on the nadir. You can clap.

Weekly Off!

Initially, the idea of getting a weekly off pained me. No Happy Saturdays for me then? Sulk…sulk…sigh…sigh….life seemed bleak and miserable…Sunday is not a fun-day actually…one just oils the machinery for the grind that follows through the week…what bad luck, what misfortune! How it tortured me to see people waking up late on Saturdays, enjoying a lazy meal and catching up a flick or two…and then I had my revenge! ;)

Suddenly on a hot Tuesday morning, they would spot me snug and happy in bed till ten!...I would stroll deliberately in front of them with a cup of lazy tea. “My chutti you see…” and they would give me red, hostile looks and move on…the peace, the contentment that I felt….to see them rush out of home in a mad dizzy, crib about the heat and dust outside and return late tired. And then I would narrate my grand account of merriment on a comfortable day. The books I read, the movies I saw, the impromptu meal I rustled up, the unplanned, multiple naps I caught…blah and blah and blah…it of coursed irritated them, some even threatened to kill me…but there was no taking away my sense of victory! How I look forward to my weekly offs now…just hold my temper and work on bleary Saturdays…and wait for the manna dew that lands in my plate on a Windy Wednesday, Tangy Thursday or Filmy Friday! :)

Holiday home…its a battlefield! ;)

Passing By...

At Dawn...

Her eyes opened to the patter of raindrops outside the window. The room was unnaturally dark for that hour…one of those Calcutta days when the dawn imitates the dusk. She couldn’t bring herself to leave the bed. The clean white blanket won her heart all over again and she hid her face deep into it. It was indeed the hour of contemplation; the early morning breeze, dampened by the rain outside, invited reflection. The calm of the violet dawn and the twitter of unprepared birds moved her soul.

Staring at the ceiling, her mind traveled back to the events of the last week. She could now think of it as a whirlwind that had culminated in the storm last night. And now this placid morn. How far they had traveled from each other, in a matter of days. Years had crumbled into nothing. Simply nothing. One of those swaying, powerful stretches of time that take away memories and emotions, feelings and sentiments, foresight and forgiveness. It was a battlefield all the way. They had turned themselves into brainless warriors feeding on false pride and reasons. Nothing could hold them back then. They had geared up to carry it far…just a little behind the Greeks and Trojans. She sighed deeply, closed her eyes and murmured to her battered soul-“it would be fine; she was right”…and then the soul betrayed her. Her pillow was briskly dampened by those heavy drops that gushed down from her eyes. She felt bitter. Not with the world, not with him, not with them. It was simply a heavy, self-critical heart. And she despised her tears. To come out that early! At dawn…

She got up and walked to the balcony. It stood deserted and dark. She had abandoned it these days. There was no need to hide in its corner and scribble. Letters weren’t needed anymore, songs never sung. It had been weeks since she had peeped into the nest it its roof, or been in company of the lazy cat. Its all gone. She told herself. The best and the sweetest part of my life. I have cut it off. If only she could say these without the watery response from her eyes, without that sinking feeling in her heart. She knew she would be fine then. That was indeed the sign. Pitying her melodramatic soul, she tried to scrub the sentiments out of her face. The mirror stood over the washbasin. And for once, she couldn’t smile.

“I will be back.” - She said to it and sat down to write.