September 26, 2010

26 September, 2010. 

The morning of September 26, 2010 has been etched in my memory. It all began with a small get-together the previous evening. We had a lot to drink. We had a great time watching Dabang; a laugh riot when you watch it with a bunch of 3 drunk fellows.

The next day started with a hangover. I woke up at 8:30 am with a mild headache. But what followed was worst. 

Lately, I have been spending a lot of my time indoors. On 26th, I suddenly felt an urge to get out. I was pleasantly surprised at the weather outside. The weather is difficult to describe. The wind was cool; the perfect temperature, not so cold as to make you curl but just so cold as to make you take it in and cleanse you from the inside. It was very quite outside (as it is usually the case). I lied down on the boundary wall. The surface is rough and I can barely lie down. That day, it was cold; again good cold. 

I closed my eyes. My arms hung loosely down the edge. I relaxed. As it happens in the morning, all my senses were automatically heightened. I could hear the distant birds chirping. I could hear the sound of the leaves clapping; enjoying the breeze themselves.

After lying there for an hour, a gang of crow started croaking. I helplessly tried to shoo them away, but it did not help. I with my room-mate set out to the market. As the weather was delightful, we decided to walk. The sunshine was amazing. The warmth of the rays was just perfect. They engulfed me. I felt safe in their protective cover. The touch of the rays was soft. Idling along, enjoying the breeze and sunshine, we reminisced old times. The times when we were younger.  The times which were simpler. The times when the biggest challenge outside school was to spend the 2 rupee coin in the best way possible, to buy bubble gum which gave away the best tattoo for free etc. I miss those days.

It was 9:15 am. We concluded that the deserted surrounding reminded us of the time when we went to school. It reminded us of the time when we went to school only to find out that it was a holiday; the joy we felt on a holiday. The breakthrough of our discussions came when we concluded that there is something wrong in the way organizations assign holidays. Around the globe, we hear organizations forced to declare holidays by 'ungodliest' weather conditions. Wouldn't it be wonderful if organizations gave out holidays to its employees just because the day was lovely? The weather was perfect for a holiday. That would be the ultimate HR welfare policy. The rest of the trip resulted in us venturing further into HR policies and old times; mostly unremarkable. 

We unlocked our door and got in. My phone was ringing. Usually, I never leave my phone when I go out. But today was different. Before I could pick it up, it went dead. I had 9 missed calls and a message. What could it be, so early in the day. 

As I scanned the numbers, I had guessed the news I was about to hear. My heart started pounding. My internals went bizarre. As I dialed the number 'Nanaji', I felt the need to sit down. Someone picked up. It was my naniji. She sounded confused. She gave away the phone to my mamiji. As I remember, she just said "Jaldi bolo jo bolna hai." . I said "I think, mom ne call kara tha mujhe". She replied in a somber voice, "nanaji ab nahi rahe". And I could only muster meekly "oh".  That was that. I knew that it would happen sooner or later. In a sense it was a good thing for he was suffering from cancer since last Diwali. It had become worst for the last 2 months. I just remembered the last time I saw him. It was on 12th September. I was just leaving to catch my train. Bidding goodbye, he drew me closer and we hugged awkwardly. He had become thin, fragile and helpless. It was a real battle even to breathe and sit up. Even heavy sedation did not help. Now it was all over. Atleast, he was peaceful now.

As a child, I always looked forward to visiting him because he took us to the park and always handed over some pocket money to buy new clothes. It was his way to bribe us. I still remember running away from him because when we reached home, he always hugged us tightly and kissed us. I ran away because the stubble of his beard always pricked me. I miss that now. 

He was a very kind and a loving spirit. He always laughed with us and was never strict. I admire and respect him for the way he made everybody feel at home. I rarely saw him angry and he always had some advice. I will always miss his guidance and love.

The story of the Earth & the Sky: The distant horizon

She had swelled up in anticipation. She seemed parched with thousands of cracks inscribed on her face. They bore witness to the atrocities that the harsh summer had lashed upon her. All her treasures, the jewels of vegetation, had atrophied away to dirt. She was warm now, ready to absorb the pearls of love sent from beyond.

These drops were the only communication between the two souls that cannot converge; a gift from heaven to his beloved. They were not an ordinary couple. They could not mark each occasion by exchanging gifts. This was the only festivity they observed. The only pleasantry they exchanged. This was the gift which bejeweled her face green with felicity, the expression he longed to see. These drops were to afforest her barren and acarpous face and transform it to the ornate beauty of spring.

The atmosphere, now expectant, was saturated with excitement, almost unbearable, signaling the impending reunion. The wind was strong but sultry with a hint of doubtful foreboding; taken as an omen for an old friend visiting unannounced. The clouds were thick. The heavy overcast condition perfectly delineated the situation of a somber lover pained to discover his love in such torment and destitute.  The pain agitated him with opposing currents of belaboring wind. He trudged through the winds, always carrying safely the clouds he had brought. The clouds contained the gifts which he had brought to ameliorate the suffering and celebrate their reunification. Winds had picked up, almost a storm now. But the clouds grew darker and heavier still. Soon the wind cooled and steadied down. The strong but cool gusts of wind caressed her face so as to inspect the damage the summer had brought and swept away the remnant flaking of the baked surface.

The “Seasons”, as we see them, were just a part of their relationship. The joyous spring, the bereft summers, the rendezvous of monsoon and the hardships of winter were eternal cycles of good and evil. The seasons tested their love and pushed them to their limits. The summer was always the hardest. She had no respite from the fierce sun, breathing fire and igniting the sky. Torn and broken, she waited. She patiently waited for him to save her.

The clouds roared pronouncing the love. The cool wind now playfully tickled the vegetation, wave after wave, combing through the leaves left on them. All, the small plants and the huge trees, danced at the sonorous tunes of the wind. The mood was auspicious and the timing right. She had settled down, felt safe in his presence and seemed to be ready. Then it happened, the first drop fell from the clouds to reach her. The first drop disappeared as soon as it touched the ground. She took in the gift and sent out a sigh of relief; merely a puff of dust. Slowly, the drops increased in number, and he showered his love up on her, soaking her. The wounds on her face healed and pain alleviated. Her reunion with her lover doused the air with a sweet smell, an aphrodisiac. The animals called out for their dear ones. Seeking a mate most of them sang amorous songs; drunk from the overpowering smell. Some even danced. Few birds joined in. Young ones were amazed by the cold silver drops falling from the sky; the sky which only rained fire. They relished this rain and played in it. The whole ambience was that of a carnival; a carnival of love.

The lightning flashed intermittently. Each flash connected her with him. They were the questions she kept asking him. Through them, she came to know of his loneliness. With each thunder he reassured her of his joy and well-being. Soon the rain was pouring down. It cleansed away all the pain and qualms. They were reunited. Even the sun came out to apologize and greet them. He gifted them with a beautiful rainbow. A lovely sun beamed happily down on her and the vegetation below. They all glistened, donning pearl like droplets all over their body. They were content to witness the conjugation. The horizon was painted with lovely colors ranging from pastel violet to vibrant pink, adding to the aura of the event.

Such is the story of “Earth & Sky”. They are like two parallel lines which are always together but never meet. They are ever connected, but destined to be apart. It is "THE DISTANT HORIZON". Once in a year they rekindle the love that they share. It has to be amongst the oldest stories. The whole scene reminded me of fairytales which always ended happily. It was a rather antithetical ending to a torrid and scorching summer.

Wish you a rainier monsoon ahead!!

A Thought

Every life is like a raindrop falling from heaven and ending up in the pond of earth. As it comes to life, each raindrop creates ripples in the water; ripples being the journey from end to end. Sometimes one ripple encounters another ripple, generally of opposite currents, which creates small whirlpools of friendship. As the ripples move about, they encounter many such friends who either complete them or destroy them. And drops like these, all around us, makes this journey the exciting and the unpredictable ride we call life.