Song of Life

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“Doc? What do the reports Say?”

“Sam is suffering from Alzheimers Sree and you know that, it is a downward descent from here”

“Yes Doc. I knew his family history, never thought Sam would test positive so early in our lives.”

“Well he is nearing his sixties! Need help?”

“Not really, kids are grown up and settled. Thank God, we had them in quick succession! Will have to tell them too. Obviously things are going to be tough but I will manage, Doc.”

“Keep in mind, my suggestions and get Sam for regular check-ups”

“Will do Doc!”

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“Hi Sree, I am sorry but the prognosis isn’t too good. His condition has deteriorated real fast. You will have to go in for a full-time nurse now. You cannot leave him alone. Inform the children too.”

“What is the point Doc? Even if they come, they will see a mere vegetable and not their loving father. It is heart-wrenching really. He has forgotten us all.”

“Sree, please don’t give up, having come so far!”

“Not to my dying day Doc! I keep showing old photos, talk about good old days, even though there is no response.”

“Don’t worry Sree. Take tomorrow off. After all, it is your birthday! I will cover for you, the least I can do for my dear dear buddy Sam!”

“No Doc! Without Sam, all days are same!!”

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“Good Morning Sam, This is your wife Sree. Remember me? Here, let me take you out in the Sun, where we can sit and read the papers while we have our morning tea! Like the good old times”

“What is it Sam? Why are you holding my hand so tightly?”

“HaaapppyyyyyBuddddayyyyy Srrrrrrrrr”

And Sam closed his eyes….And Sree crumpled in agony!

While Phil Collins hauntingly crooned somewhere nearby.

How can I just let you walk away

Just let you leave without a trace?

When I stand here taking every breath with you,

You’re the only one who really knew me at all

How can you just walk away from me

When all I can do is watch you leave?

‘Cause we’ve shared the laughter and the pain

And even shared the tears

You’re the only one who really knew me at all

So take a look at me now

Well there’s just an empty space

And there’s nothing left here to remind me

Just the memory of your face

Ooh, take a look at me now

Well there’s just an empty space

And you coming back to me is against the odds

And that’s what I’ve got to face

I wish I could just make you turn around

Turn around and see me cry

There’s so much I need to say to you

So many reasons why

You’re the only one who really knew me at all

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A Blessing in Disguise

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This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

“You will have to do this for me Rupa! For the sake of our friendship! You know, I consider you, more of a friend than my cousin, right? Moreover, I cannot trust anyone with this. I haven’t told any about Raj. You know, how conservative everyone around here, is!

“Still, Simi Didi, asking me to go and tell your boy-friend that you have moved on and are getting engaged today to a hotshot NRI, is a bit too much to ask of me. Why can’t you do it? Call him, break the news and cut. Then clean up your digital footprints.”

“Arre Rupa! It is not that easy. Raj can be very clingy. He is an emotional sorts. He might even come home and create ruckus. You know then, what tsunamis will be unleashed. And I kind of like this hotshot NRI. I will have a much better life in LA. Then I will find someone for you too. For that to happen, the old ties have to be broken. Please help me Rupa.”

“I don’t need any of your matchmaking skills. Where should I go? And how does he look? Show me, his pics at least, Simi didi!”

“Arrey, I just cleaned my phone.”

“What about FB/SnapChat/Viber”

“Uffo! So much cleaning! Forget all that, I will show you on fb, before I unfriend and block him. Please make sure he is OK, na. Don’t want him to hurt too much. We are supposed to meet today, at the Starbucks, in Mega Mall, at 6:30, in the corner booth. Today is Friday right? He will be in Red. Tall, wavy hair, well built..”

“That is most of the men folk Simi didi. Show his pics!”

The bedroom door opened and Mother burst in, cooing excitedly.

“Simi! The groom’s party is here!”

“Already Mom?”

“Their Pundit told the Boy’s Mom that the auspicious hour will be over in the next ten minutes. Thank God, you are ready” Mother then grabbed Simi and marched out, while Simi gesticulated to Rupa wildly, to go and do the deed!

Rupa sighed wearily and walked out.

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She soon found the corner booth, with its occupant. Wonder of wonders, reading a book! With his mobile on silent, savoring his coffee, in a Red Polo. Rupa took a deep breath and found her courage.

“Raj?

“Yes?”

Words gushed out of Rupa’s shapely mouth, in a breathtaking pace. The man in question, looked at her stupefied, which Rupa mistook to be stricken.

He then gesticulated for her to sit. This time Rupa, took her own time,  conveying the grave news, all over again, all the while, patting Raj’s hand, giving comfort. Over cups of coffee, they talked.

**************************************************

Raj never told Rupa, that he had been sent, by the original Raj, to convey the news to Simi. That the Original Raj had found his golden girl who was loaded. And that the original Raj was getting engaged that very same day.

The Duplicate Raj had found Rupa so enchanting, that truth got a quiet burial. He simply confessed, he was a different Raj.

What a blessing in disguise, that mistaken identity turned out to be!

Today it is their tenth anniversary. They are the ideal couple, who fill in each other’s sentences and worlds.

Paradise!

One Night

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

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11:22 PM. 8 minutes to go before the cabbie arrived at the gate. I quickly gulped down the sticky Maggie, put some clothes, checked my purse for money, grabbed my phone.

11:28 PM  2 minutes to go before the cabbie arrived at the gate. I sprinted down, tucking my shirt in, hoping to be there at the gate, before the cabbie. I couldn’t bear his accusatory tone, if I was late.

11:30 PM Paradise regained. Rupa was in the cab and so was Sonali. In 30 minutes, it was Rupa’s birthday. I was hoping to get her nod tonight. I had spent a packet on a ring to gift Rupa and seal the bond.

Rupa smiled warmly. A good omen! Sonali smirked. Nothing unusual. The cabbie revved up. He was in a hurry. As he sped on the bustling roads, braking at will and barely managing to avoid colliding into vehicles.

Rupa became nervous. She slipped her fingers into mine and held onto them. Smirking Sonali, let go at the cabbie, who slowed down momentarily and stuck to his original speed. As we turned into a lane, BAMM! The cabbie managed to bang into a pizza delivery guy, who flew into air on impact. To avoid hurting him further, the cabbie swerved and crashed into a tree.

1:00 AM Rupa wokeup, to see the mayhem around. Air-bags had saved the cabbie. But he was unconscious. Sonali sat rubbing her head. mumbling something incoherently in Marathi. Her man, seemed to have passed out too, though fingers were still entwined. There is this persistent mooing sound. They were in a no-network patch.

1:30 AM Rupa shookher man and Sonali. The man was stirring. So he wasn’t dead. They both comforted each other and came out slowly to check the mayhem. They  flashed  their mobiles to see the extent of damage. The pizza delivery guy was no where to be found. They searched under the vehicle, over the cab. No sign of the guy. But the mooing was now loud and clear. To their utter horror, they saw one horn of a buffalo sandwiched between the bumper and the tree. The Buffalo wasn’t hurt but shocked.

2:00 AM Sonali shook the driver, who slowly resurfaced. He got down to see the bonnet smashed up. And they all heard some feeble sounds coming from the tree. As they all craned their necks to see, they could make out the outline of the pizza delivery boy. The impact had landed him on the top branches and he was moaning. Except the cabbie no one knew how climb trees except the driver, who wasn’t exactly in shape to do so. The mooing was getting stronger. The buffalo was now petrified. They all gathered and somehow managed to push the cab away from the tree, enough for the buffalo to move away. The moment it wriggled, one horn that was sandwiched broke into half and the buffalo ran away.

3:00 AM The ladies, the cabbie and the man were now petrified. What if a crowd gathered and beat them to pulp. But they couldn’t leave the pizza delivery guy, up the wall. How about shaking the tree? The pizza guy continued to moan.

3:15 AM the cabbie somehow dragged himself up and helped the pizza delivery guy down. As they all gathered, firstly they wolfed down an entire pizza and then started walking ahead. Till they found help.

As the day broke, both the cab and the scooter were towed away. Everyone got a day to recover.

And as the day ended a one horned buffalo was trending. Nobody knew what happened.

Rain

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This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

It was the pitter patter sound that woke Simran up. The sound of steady fall of water droplets, on her glass window,

The rain seemed to come down in sheets. Everything was wet, washed  and the leaves actually looked fresh and green.

This particular shade of green was something she had seen, way back in time, when she was carefree, young and deeply in love.

A period of time, when Simran used to hop onto a local to Lonavala, to trek the Western Ghats along with the love of her life, Raj, and the incessant rain would caress her curves while the mesmerizing greenery would intoxicate her.

Her utterly smitten Raj would share hot cups of masala chai with his Simran as they bundled together, quivering and shivering.

Simran Verma stole a glance towards her husband, Raj Verma, snoring away, utterly unmindful of the beauty of nature, dancing right in front of him, and sighed wistfully.

Her mobile sprang to life. ” MemSaab, Not coming for work today. It is raining cats and dogs”.

The phone was disconnected even before Simran could utter a word.

“Oh these bloody bloody *&^%* rains!!”

An Unforgettable Friend

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This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

I carry your heart…I carry it in my heart

Thought the teary-eyed, recuperating patient, lying on his bed, in the intensive care unit.

In a split second, he was back in time and to the very place where it had all started.

They were childhood friends, who grew up with same tastes and who then developed intense feelings for each other. The boys knew, they couldn’t let the world sneak in on their secret. It wouldn’t understand with its draconian divisions of people.

So they masqueraded their affection as ‘close-friendship’ lest the hyper vigilante society separated them, punishing them.

They then decided that the first world with its more liberal outlook might be safe for them to disappear, to breathe free, to be alive.

The families definitely had no clue about this. Otherwise, all hell would be let loose.

They even acquired the requisite permits till a killer truck played the spoilsport, while they were returning from a night-show.

It is a perfect match. Both are of same age, build and height. Ravi has a chance to live if Sarath’s heart is used for implanting.”  The good doctor had advised.

Beta, I see my lost son in you.” cried Sarath’s mother, clutching Ravi.

I carry your heart…I carry it in my heart!

And in death, we are finally together, away from this rigid society’s judgements and rancor. Rest in peace, my love, my unforgettable friend. For now, I will protect you with my life” Thought Ravi, clutching his beloved heart.

I am Seshu

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We are having our monthly picnic in the hills now, as I speak to you.

I, Seshu, my twin sister Diya and her beau Raghu – Her Beau who is my best pal.

There they go again, hugging and kissing, right in front of me, as if I don’t exist, my views on this display of love, don’t matter! Anytime and anywhere is PDA time for these two love birds!

You must be wondering, why do I fret so. After all, these two, are my sister and my best pal. What else would one ask in life?

Ha! Ha! You see, God( if he exists that is!) has been flagrantly unfair to me. My sister Diya, is youth and beauty personified with the grace of a gorgeous gazelle. And I? Bound to a wheelchair, because of my cerebral palsy. Even with this disease, I am an Einstein when compared to my sister. She is a bimbette, you know. You could say a kind one at that. She looks after me with a smothering love! There have been enough times when I have wondered, how does it feel to snap her delicate neck, whenever she came running to bestow upon me, her innate, albeit grating kindness! If only my hands could derive the requisite strength from my burning anger at the unfairness of it all – She being the destiny’s chosen one and I, it’s cruel joke! But then, almost immediately, I feel ashamed at my vile thoughts as Diya fusses over me, narrating her – as is usual – a spectacular day.

Oh! how I hate this see-saw of naked emotions! You can almost feel my blood boil when the public goes gaga over her! How often have I heard them whisper conspiratorially to my father, (an unfortunate widower, who has to bravely bear the vicissitudes of life namely his wife’s death and thereby, looking after the crippled me!! )

How beautiful and dutiful is Diya! So caring! Can’t believe these two, are twins! Tch Tch! Don’t worry, you poor man. Your darling daughter will be the pillar of strength to your handicapped son! He will not be left alone. All will be Ok!

I’m not handicapped, dammit! I have a brain, I have feelings, my heart can feel love and conceal vitriolic hatred too, Thank you! Then, just to rub salt on my festering wounds, my father would come in and ruffle my hair, check the settings of my wheelchair! Eesh father! stop pitying me. They don’t make like you, even in the movies anymore!

To this saccharine sweet setting, to save me from further disaster entered Raghu, Diya’s classmate, as my savior. Raghu is virile, the quintessential Alpha-male. Raghu’s views and tastes match with mine. We would often chat about books, politics, events and he would read out to me, interesting excerpts. He was the first one to see a soul hidden deep inside my crippled and under developed body. He drew me out. I mattered to him, my opinions did.

Diya would often join us, not to contribute but to nod periodically and to eye her dishy classmate.There were fireworks all around. Between Diya and Raghu and unknown to all, my heart beat violently for Raghu. I would wait for him to touch me, lift me, help me around. Those were electrifying moments. But sadly only to me. Raghu had no inkling whatsoever of how I felt. I couldn’t dare let Raghu or for that matter, anyone else know.

This society wasn’t ready yet, for a brother and sister to have the same lover. But if my sexuality or my sexual preference made others uncomfortable or did not fit into the ‘usual’, is it my problem? Should I be the one, always adjusting and conforming to what is ‘Kosher’? Why can’t I be accepted and left alone? I am neither abnormal nor abominable. I just am!! 

As I vacillated between these extreme thoughts, Raghu proposed to Diya. Everyone celebrated except me.

Why good lord? Why? To have your sister touch what was supposed to be mine…All mine. Can you imagine the choking ache that sat permanently in my chest, in my throat? And it was open season now. That open, anytime PDA was enough to pierce my heart. Incensed at this new betrayal by fate, I tried to hog Raghu’s time, whenever he came visiting us, often asking him to help me out with various activities. Seeing Diya get irritated at my being a nuisance, hogging her time, somehow satisfied me.

Father, though, encouraged my growing dependence on Raghu as it somehow comforted him that there would be someone who would look after me, after he was gone.

All was honky-dory, till yesterday. I asked Raghu to help me change my shirt. As his hands struggled with my body, my fingers grabbed his hand and…You should have seen the revulsion in his eyes. As if he had touched a snake. His mental rebuke, killed me on the spot. Wordlessly, he walked out, closing the door behind him, leaving me to battle with my darkness, my demons, my insecurities. The longest hours of my life!

Today is the scheduled day of our monthly picnic in the hills. I thought, Raghu wouldn’t keep up with his date. Surprisingly, he did come but there has been no eye contact with me so far. Today Raghu seemed to hug Diya more, as if to drive home the point.

I am elated nonetheless, just to feel his presence around. I turn my head away, lest someone sees my hot scalding tears. I vow that I will do whatever it takes, to get the status quo back. He is just too precious to let go.

Now, please don’t advise me to forget him, to move on and that there are other fish in the pond as I agree to these already. The heart always craves for what it wants, you see. I don’t think I have the strength to tell father the truth, or to start all over, with someone else. Maybe time will be the best healer.

I move to the edge of the cliff. I can see the valley deep down. I turn back to see them kissing. Raghu’s eyes meet mine. There is that searing hatred in those black orbs…I know it clearly then, that it will never be the same again, come what may!

In a flash, I Seshu, am flying. I can feel the wind in my arms, my legs are dancing, mother Earth is eagerly waiting to embrace me.

I am one with the approving universe, finally.

A dream to remember

 

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This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

Author’s note :  It is actually surreal that this week’s Write Over the Weekend (WOW) prompt, asks us to tell BlogAdda, about a dream that has stayed on, in our subconsciousness. A dream to remember, that often makes us sit up and wonder about it’s mysteriousness. I had this dream about a year back.  I wrote this note to self, all about it, lest I forget the dream, with passage of time.

I reproduce the same  here-

It was one of the most difficult cars to navigate. A mother-of-pearl-white, gigantic Ambassador. That too for a person like me, who did not know how to drive! Against my volition, I was just thrust into the driver’s seat and asked to drive…Just like that!

The controls were all wired terribly wrong. A bus-like gear system, clutch else where, an accelerator in place of a brake and adding to this chaos was the incessant traffic. Enough to break a person.

To my utter delight, I coped beautifully. I drove slowly, avoided collisions and managed to park in a beautiful, lush green colony with happy faces and gamboling children.

Alas, the dark night came in sharply. It was time to head back. The evening traffic and T intersection seemed impossible to overcome.  I then realized with a start, that I was in the rear passenger seat.

A pristine-white clad man with the most benevolent smile, was in the driver’s seat. He navigated with dexterity and cautioned me about an open door in the front, next to the passenger seat, where my first born was sitting.  As I sat transfixed, able to comprehend the gravity of the situation but simply unable to take any action, the pristine-white clad man shut the door for me and continued cruising along.

I saw that there was a steering wheel, clutch, accelerator, brake, in front of me, attached to the driver’s seat.  I tried to use them, to no avail. As the dream ended, the meaning of this entire sequence, hit me with a startling clarity.

All along, I had thought, it was I, who did the driving but all I had, were the dummy controls!

It was all along He!  And Him alone, who steered, navigated the course of my life and who watched out for me!!

Especially when the troubles hit me, making me paralyzed with fear.

So I could hope to soar, with renewed spirit and vigor, with a strong belief that I wasn’t alone in this journey of life!