July 30, 2008

Desperation

NOTE: This one's from a long time ago that I hadn't had the heart to publish till the dark clouds cleared. Now they have, by God's good grace, so here it is;

What do you do
when you want to get lost?
When no one around
feels your existence.
Do you just vanish
and leave them alone?
Or is it a moment
to tackle with persistence?
What do you do
When sweet love fails?
When darkness and doom
Solely prevail?
Do you pray to the lord?
For divine intervention?
Knowing he can’t change will and intention?
When love is the last
hope for your life,
But every caring hand
Cuts you like a knife
When the eyes that held
Happiness and warmth
Turn on to you
With vengeance and wrath
Do you submit yourself?
To the hands of decay
Or do you hold on
For that fateful day?
A day of your dreams
When love will return
A day like the day
When it all had begun
What do you do?
When you want to get lost
But a little hope keeps you
Alive at any cost?

July 18, 2008

Questions (A short story)

“Have you checked the batteries on that thing?” she said pointing at the torch in my hand. “I think it’s run long enough on those, you should change them. Which you most probably won’t so let’s say I should change them first thing tomorrow morning after I’m done dealing with that nincompoop doodhwaala, he thinks I wouldn’t make out how much water he’s mixing in the milk nowadays, as if it wasn’t enough already! I should ask him to start delivering water, maybe then…”
My dear wife had what they call the gift of the gab. She could ramble on about a hundred different things without drawing a single breath. She also has this habit of treating me like a five year old. I don’t know when she’ll realize I’m a grown man, and a perfectly capable one at that.
“When you stop behaving like one” she said with that know all look in her eyes. My scalp suddenly grew very itchy.
“I said I’ll stop treating you like a kid when you stop behaving like one. But my experience of the past 28 years tells me that’s not happening very soon”. Did she say 28? I thought it was over 30. Like it maters anyway. I don’t understand what women have with detail, 28 is as good as 30, just like tomato red and cherry red are both red, why not round it off or chrissake? “… till the chowkidar has to escort you back home?”
“What?” I said bewildered.
“When will you ever start listening to me when I’m saying something? I said leave before it’s too late and that dumb flashlight of yours runs out of batteries and..”
“Yeah yeah I got it from there. I’ll leave when I’m ready” So, Flashlight eh? Just because you have a son in law from the US of A to teach you fancy new words.
“What are you smirking about now?” she said gently jabbing her comb in my cheek.
“The prospect of a stroll by myself” I said and pulled the bedroom door shut behind me.

We had been going on these night walks together since our daughter moved away for college. And it had always been together, because she wanted it that way. She would still go if I wasn’t interested, but I never went alone. That just never happened. Maybe she never let it happen; maybe I didn’t recognize the opportunity. But this was my chance. In fact, she was the one to suggest I continue going on these walks by myself. And I gladly took her at her word.
The day the news came, I was just out of a meeting with my boss which I wouldn’t like to recount, not even for money, when the doctor, an old family friend of ours called me. My wife had slipped down the stairs and fractured her leg. “Oh my God! How is she? What happened? Why are you calling? Why didn’t she call?” I gasped, sweat streaming down my face.
“She’s okay Ashish, she was in pain so I put her to sleep. She’ll be alright, it’s only a hairline fracture don’t worry”
“Okay” I said, though I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied that everything was okay till I got a look at it myself.
Two weeks from that day I’m glad I got that news. I feel almost guilty at my relief. She must be in pain, and being the one who has nursed me out of various different illnesses over the years, she doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. But I can’t lie to myself, I’m all too happy about going on these walks by myself. After all, a man needs his space.

The road was perfectly well lit, and I was too tired to venture into the one of the lanes that cut away from it. Besides those lanes didn’t have sidewalks and I didn’t want to get my shoes dirty in the mud. “Ah! What a perfect morning! Mud stains on my new carpet! When will this man ever learn to wipe his shoes when he walks into the house? ” she’ll say in the morning.
What’s wrong with me? Now I’m thinking of what she’ll say in the morning? As if what she said all Sunday wasn’t enough to drive me out of my senses. ‘Stop thinking of her right now’ I said to myself. Just then, as if she heard my thoughts and pulled the plug on me, the street light went out. It was pitch dark, quite like my state of mind at the moment. I reached out for my torch and switched it on. It reluctantly gave a feeble glow and then went out, like my four year old granddaughter waking up from her sound sleep I so envy. I rattled it, but realized only too late that the batteries were down. “I told you so !” she’ll say with that triumphant look in her eyes when I get back home, her face beaming as if I brought her good news, “didn’t I?”. Yes, you did my love, and I didn’t listen to you. What do I do now? “Is that smoke? Are you stinking of cigarettes? Have you been smoking Ashish?” Smoking? What has that got to do with anything? Why was I thinking of this? Oh! Lighter! I have a lighter! I took it out of my pocket and lit it. The big yellow flame almost warmed my heart up. Now I just needed to find myself a spot to sit and wait till the lights were up again, I couldn’t take the five minute walk back home with a lighter in my hand. So I found a bench and sat down.
The sky was teeming with stars. Little twinkles of light that mocked me then, sitting in the dark. They were exceptionally bright that night, must have been a grid failure. I could hear the leaves rustling in the wind. The occasional flapping of a bat flying by. The wet monsoon wind caressing my face. I hadn’t been so close to nature, so unguarded, in many years. ‘This is life’ I sighed to myself. The wind was strong and noisy as it cut through the trees. It sounded like it was calling my name. Aaaashiiiiiishhhhhhh Aaaaaashhhhhhiiiishhhhhh
“Ashish! Have you gone completely deaf? I was dying with worry looking around for you and you’re sleeping on a bench! Don’t you have a shred of responsibility in you? Look at me when I’m talking to you! Why are you staring at my shoes? ASHISH! Are you drunk? What’s the matter with you? Say Something! ”.
“Your leg"
“My leg what? Haven’t you seen it before?”
“Where’s your plaster?”
There was shock in her eyes, quickly replaced by something else. I think it was the first time I saw that look on her face. I couldn’t quite make out what it was. Disappointment? Guilt? Wait a minute, I think there was some self righteousness there. “What is it? What happened?” I egged her on. She held my gaze with her hazel eyes for a long time, as if trying to say everything without having to utter a single word. After what seemed like an eternity I heard her say “I thought, a man needs his space. Doesn’t he?”
One little thing I forgot to tell you about her. She also likes to end most sentences with a question and leave you wondering.