He failed..and she...

“Papa, please give it a chance” cried Harsh. The father looked severe, deep into Harsh. The fist tightly grasped, the nerves breaking his skin almost. The anger in the eyes made his face to swell up. Harsh kept sniffing the tears down his cheek. What could his mother do, she cried herself hard in the kitchen, trying to supress her shrilling voice by the snapping utensils on the granite slab.  The poor lady prayed constantly, the lips which moved in inaudible prayers to the almighty that Harsh should be spared this time again. “Get out of my house” the voice echoed warning him. “Papa, I love her” laments Harsh while he draws back to his room.

The night was endless. It was still. No leaves moved on the tree, utter silence it was. No bird chirped, no owl howled, no pigeon fluttered on the window till it was dawn.  The eyes were as wet as they were a night before. His white linen shirt was almost pale as the colour of his body reflected through. Harsh was dying. It was 8:00 am, it was the time when Richa usually reach her office. Harsh picks the handset to call her. He was desperate to listen to her amusing voice. After all she was the muse of his life. As soon as he picked the receiver, many thoughts came and faded in the depth of this grief. The plight was such, that tormented him now. “What am I going to tell her?” he fumbles, lacking in strength. “Should I say….I cannot marry you…” he doused.

She would not react. Probably, she would be lost in her own world. She would be thrown back to a void, a zone to which only she belongs. Probably she will never come back, not to him, but to herself. He feared the very thought of losing her. He was failing. It was now next to impossible to anyhow convince his father about Richa. She is ambitious and that is her mistake. She has got a scholarship to pursue her doctorate abroad; that is a gaffe she probably has committed. “Why should you compromise your goodwill in your company, leave the job and the country for that girl?”. “Papa, I wish to go abroad with Richa, it is my wish to see her progress, we want to realise our dream together! I will find a job and get settled there too” said Harsh desperately, but missed the mark again.

It had been two days, since he had switched on his mobile phone. He felt weak. He couldn’t call her. He convinced himself to run away and fly with her to Michigan. But how can he go away leaving mummy behind to that one cruel man she was surviving for these 30 years. How could he leave her back in a state of depression and live happily himself.

Minutes passed, and so did the days and weeks. “Richa should have understood by now, she would know everything herself” he sighed… “No one comprehends my silence better than she does” his eyes shone with pride. No questions haunted his mind anymore. He had decided both of their fates by now.

Thank you Mario!

As I pressed over the joystick, all glued into the computer screen.
 He was a Super Mario! He was the one super-hero,
 rushing dreamily but keenly after his princess. 

He started from a footpath, he walked and jumped over rich- brown Cadbury(s) 
 There emerged some mushrooms and ducks,
 he kicked them and obtained some powers.
 He was a super hero. 
He comprehends through the sky and obtains the golden opportunities 
with twinkling coins making tinkling sounds. 

My Mario scored 2,10,98,70 today!
See the exquisite high-jump that I can take from that last piece of chocolate staircase
towards that flag of no man’s land! 
See, the fire-shots, how heaven is celebrating along with me! 
And now my Mario enters into a novel castle.

He lands into darkness, he again jumps over the flowers which can swallow him in,
he kicks away the small faces wearing helmets and snubs away all the enemies on the way.

 When lucky, My Mario got through the green mushroom, adding one more life to his tenure

Easing his journey where he is meant to meet his princess.

Mario started off bad, stuck with envious ducks around him, 
jumping over the nauseating bridges and had to shine with all gold to reach to her castle. 

He fought through every obstacle, not eating anything for hours, he kept on searching for any super-powers
he kept on leaping over walls, sometimes could grip over some magic stems that made him float through the sky,

he shone like a star and was immune to all ill-wills of the harmful creatures in the wonderland.

One fine day, he lands into the dragon castle, 
he stands and jumps against all odds. 
He saves himself from all bullets coming on his way, 
he finally faces the dragon and they are in a fiery brawl. 

Oh, Mario has hit the hatch, the dragon has fallen down!

But………… Thank You Mario, your Princess is in Another Castle!!!

Life is one such Mario game. Or you can say it is like finding your love through the hurdles, across the glittery paths which are not gold, while taking a bonus off and on.  He and she, You and I, are there in an ultimate search like Mario is. We exactly do what he does, we make money and get rich, we hear applause around when we move ahead or get through a new milestone. Clothes change from dull red to bright red, we grow up from small to tall, but the search continues. Then comes the one moment when, he and she and you and I reach near that one repulsive dragon in our respective lives; but by this time we are motorized enough that we can tactfully bang that dragon down!

It is an interesting race we are in, every time we take yet another leap of faith and re-start a new game. Life is a joy-stick we dance upon and pause where necessary. We shall keep on coming back to the nasty dragon even when we know the Prince/Princess won’t be there. The journey is fun and even Mario does not lose hope and yet takes another jump from the last chocolate-wall, he soars high, scores great and gets the flag!

So, He and she, You and I , why worry even if the Prince /Princess is in Another Castle…!!!! 

The U- turn

She was waiting, and waiting sitting across the big, repulsive …the pale door near the staircase. She was cladded in her pair of greyish-blue denims and a crisp lime shade halter top. Oh, that oomph! The office people passed by again and again and glanced at her. She tried to read their lip sync but doesn’t care over the usual comments she is accustomed to.Her gaze was steadily set on that huge rectangular piece of wood. Her fingers sometimes clenched the folders and sometimes the straight hair falling on the shoulders were being played with, as the time had to be passed. She twisted sometimes to look for the receptionist who was busy taking long calls at the receiving desk.

The interview with him was fixed for 10:30 this morning, she has her own office to attend to which she has escaped to attend to this new offer. ‘Shelly Seth’ called the haughty receptionist, Mr. Aman is waiting inside for you. The name, pinched something inside but the eyes shimmered and this moment was thanked by her. She hastily turn to her nude-tinged heels and walked in head-high. The disposition she carried through the foyer was all calm and the elegance was personified in the way she dressed for the day. After all, she was to audition for a new advertisement, she had to look her best and yet effortless in appeal. Aman looks at this muse walking in the chiffon top and kept looking……She sat opposite him, thoughtfully shook hands with him and expected the round of questions to be put forward. She was quiet and quiet…. he sat alike. The silence invaded the atmosphere and no questions came around. Aman congratulated her, they shook hands. She came out of the same repulsive door without looking back, walking aimlessly, clueless and unable to react.

The phone buzzed one, twice and thrice, Shelly did not pick and undecidedly sat in her car and drove to her workplace. As she parked the car in the lane outside the office suddenly a realisation hit her, that mummy’s call need to be returned before she reaches the workplace.  She didn’t know what to say, she said, ‘I did get the job, but I am not going to go’.

The day was absent-mindedly spent at the workstation, some assignments done, a few scenes shot for the advertisements. Unless she found the bunch of documents at her desk - freshly wet by the drops from the eyes that gazed upon them; she didn’t know she was crying. The tears marked her journey to the lovely days spent together in college, the frames flashed in front of her, the selfies they clicked together, the biscuits they broke into two and sipped from the same cup, the visit to the quiet lanes of Hauz Khas that was the favourite hotspot during the college days, the drives together, listening from his boring Kishore Kumar numbers to her favourite Honey Singh, the days of sharing the same platter and being best friends to the cutest couple, Aman and her…

She was breaking into pieces by now, after all she had promised herself 4 years back that she will never meet him again. But, life had planned something which she had never planned, life today morning had taken this U-turn. The evening brought such dullness, mummy made her favourite Orange Chicken; Shelly took her pillow to her couch and the dinner remain unattended.

Vo Varun hai, aur tu sirf Shivani

     

A day

He was sleeping till late evening, he got up, Mom: “Varun, beta neend poori ho gayi?”…. She caresses his careless streaks of hair falling on his forehead, says: “Bachhe soja, kal raat ko late aaya tha”. Varun dozes off.

Shivani was sleeping till late in the morning, she gets up, Mom: “Shivani, dopahar tak uth jaati tab tak mein saara kaam akele hi kar leti”….A loud thumping on the floor while mom walks and her tone takes a sharp turn. Shivani gets up at once, rolls her bedding quickly and moves to the wash basin.

Another Day

He was studying in the afternoon, Mom: “Varun, bacche khaana kha kar rest karle, garmi me kahan padhai hogi”…. She hands him over a glass of Roohafza and says “peele  relief milega”.

Shivani was watching a matinee laying on a couch after the exhausting 2 hours of cleaning the almirah, sipping nimbu-paani she had made herself to relax…..Mom : “Humein rest karna hai…aankh me light lagti hai….TV band kar”.

Another Day

He announces, “Mom, mere friends bula rahein hain, sham ko ayunga”, Mom: “Bete…. Kuch kha toh le…aur ye le bijli ka bill jama kara diyo”. Varun, is already gone, and the bill lays unattended in the drawer. Mom smiles, says: “Buddhu Baccha.”

She asks, “Mummy, meri friend aa rahi hai, aap kuch bana doge”, Mom: “Itni badi hogyi hai, khud kab seekhegi…”. Shivani  calls the friend, “yaar, mom ke sath kahin jaana pad gaya hai, phir milte hain kabhi….sorry”

Another Day

Varun’s birthday. Mom: “Le bachhe (hands over cash), happy birthday….kam pade toh le liyo aur”. Varun is too excited, calls his friends and is off to a pub.

Shivani’s 12^th standard result is out. She is very happy, she just bagged 93.7% in Commerce.  Mom hugs her, says “Very Good….. ab kal se khaana seekh ab college jaane lagegi”. Shivani either had no expectation for a gift or money. She is satisfied, “Shayad aaj mummy kheer hi bana lein”.

Another Day

Mom is sick today… “Varun, bete ye medicine laade, papa toh late ayenge”. He raises eyebrows looking at the heat outside and says “Yaar abhi so jao, dhhoop kam hogi toh laake de dunga”.

Mom: “Haan, me thik hu….bahar  garmi bohat hai”.

Shivani rushes to almirah, gets her cotton stol, wraps around her face and head. Picks money that mom had put beside her pillow where she lay.  Returns with a pack from chemist and hands over with a glass of lukewarm water.

 Shivani: “Varun, awaaz kam kar T.V ki, mummy ne abhi dawai khayi…so rahi hain”.

Mom gathers herself somehow: “Bechare ko dekhne de, me thik hu…varun awaz nai aa rahi beta…dekhle tu”.

Shivani picks up the empty glass of water, puts the pack of medicines in the drawer, notes the time next for  the next doze for mom.

 She moves to the kitchen.

  Just Another Day

……….

Why did she go?

Daddy’s princess she was, she was just three when god had sent for mommy. She had hardly grown the bond with her, when she had to let her go to reach up to the heaven. The heaven, daddy told her, was beautiful than the house they were living in. Thus, Anya was happy that mommy had gone to a better place to spend the rest of her life. She was however unhappy that she won’t come back to live with her and daddy, as heaven would be her only abode now. Daddy would take the little Anya in his strong arms and would drive her through swift swings, singing her a lullaby which Richa would sing for their angel. The moon was up high, and Arsh was missing Richa, he was robust  enough to render uninterrupted sleep to Anya while carefully wavering her in his arms; still had his eyes filled with saline droplets which obstructed the vision to the moon making the sweetness of it blurred. Arsh was broken inside but had courage to hold his angel to face the toughness of life as a daddy ahead. Every night would come and Anya would be told the story of a fairy. The fairy who came to their house and took his hand into hers, she showed him how beautiful life was, she taught him how to take care of Anya, she blessed the family and went back to heaven. Anya would listen to the story and asked why did she go and how she looked? The same question at the end of this story every-night had nothing to offer to Anya in return. The little angel would remain unanswered when she asked daddy about the fairy, “Daddy, what is the name of the fairy, how she looked and why did she go back”?

 Days had gone, and now months were passing by, the ritual of mourning over the loss had to be broken as another rule of life and the time had come to attend to the routine. Anya would go to a preparatory school, and Arsh would leave for office while dropping the kid to the Montessori. Lunch hour at the office would let Arsh overhear the husbands discussing over the expertise of their wife’s hands at Aloo Parantha or Biryani. It happened daily, Arsh would be reminded of the noise invaded by the steam of the cooker when Richa would cook lunch for him. He smiled as the flashback started of the times she would be worried unnecessarily over petty matters of sharing his lunch with office mates and never having enough himself; or worrying  whether he liked Shahi Paneer in the lunch or not? Who thought this would be a memory in the present, and would be so important to him a matter unlike its pettiness before. He munched over his piece of bread-butter, had his cup of tea and was back to work.

Anya was at the baby-center as usual in the late afternoons and would be having children of her age around and thus was happy. She would be cranky at times and cry for daddy and would ask the mistress to call him. Time was passing this way. Sharp at six thirty daddy would come to his angel and she would run, with an amazing speed and cling to the tough shoulders of her daddy, as if this air she inhaled of daddy’s scent had saved her life. Arsh would kiss her forehead and observe her dark brown eyes sparkling and the beautiful curls of hair she was getting as her mother had. Arsh would take Anya to the park, would be one among her friends and laugh with her till she got tired of it. The months were passing by and she was growing up to senses. She was being sensitive to her surroundings as she would see her other mates being fed by their moms, being scolded and pampered at the same time, being dressed in their best of Barbie’s and Dora’s collections, while poor daddy would collect the heaps of the same but never had expertise of accessorising the angel as a feminine hand would craft it. Anya was now getting bored of the same fairy story and was disappointed with daddy as she never got an answer to her question as a routine. Richa existed in the collection of the photographs Arsh had put all over the house on all the peach colour walls, both of them had done. Anya would now observe daddy caressing the beautiful hair of mommy every time the peach wall would be passed by. She would smile when daddy would kiss the pink flush on mommy’s cheek and then would pull on his angel’s chin and wink at her. Life was not easy, there were dreams to be fulfilled for the future with this kid, but it were mere memories they were living in.

Days changed to months, and time passed by. Today was 20^th of March it was Anya’s day, the day when Richa had given birth to this angel 12 years back. Richa was nowhere to be found but kept looking at her family, saw them grow together, it were the peach coloured walls in the house on which her photos hung. The peach walls were their garden, the orchid of the father and the daughter, which was most fragrant in the house. Her friends came, and the table got flooded with the gifts. The girl didn’t open any of the gift wraps; all she wanted was to unfold what she could never get hold of. She was not going to demand of anything as a birthday gift even after Arsh’s constant asking. All she wanted was the answer to the fairy-tale she had been listening to for years. However, she had grown up enough to know that how the fairy had looked but ‘why did she go’ still remained a mystery…..