He just left, just like that...

He's gone, I know that, because someone told it to me and my mind
confirms that memory, while I wait for his mortal remains to be
brought to me to confirm it once again.
I have already faced that situation over and over in my mind. I see
him shroud in white, his face the way I remember watching while he'd
sleep.

It's a long wait.
The longest that time ever lasted.
The clock ticks on mechanically, night passes into day and the sun
rises, the birds chirp. The dawning of the day never interrupted by
the death of my father.
The birds come chirping at my window sill waiting to be fed by my
father. Even the birds had a right over his time, everyday, unlike me.
I go to get the feed, I place a few fistfuls on the sill. The birds
alight but don't eat. A couple of them peck at it, then they watch me
and I watch them equally curious. I think to them, your feeder isn't
coming back. Maybe they understand, maybe not. Then I move away and I
enter my own private hell.
But something shakes me out of it. It's sounds, too many people, but
one among them has brought me out of my despair, temporarily I bottle
up my grief. I call the family doctor, he arrives and then I tell him
everything. I register the shock on his face. I know why that
expression is plastered on his face longer than it should on any
doctor. He had checked my father's annual test results, just a couple
of days before his death and they were okay.

After he leaves, I stand sentinel over my mum's room, no one enters it
on my watch. My earlier sorrow has now transformed into a cause. My
mother needs to be away from the howling audiences.
I keep them at bay. They plead with me, they curse me, they accuse me.
They tell me that my mum must cry. I know better. I stay sharp. I coax
them away and at times shove away a few. My mother rests from the
tranquilising effects of the meds delivered into her.
Then the hour comes, I have to let them have an audience with her.
I restrict them when I can.

Finally the flow of people ebbs. I am slowly losing my courage. In the
final few quarters of the hour before they bring him, I lie down
beside my mum.
I am scared. For once I don't know how I will react. Will my mind
remain in my control? I know not. That scares me utmost.
I remember a few words of courage. At such a time, those words which
give me some hope are that of a friend's mother, she feels closer than
any blood relative.

I'm almost dragged to him amidst all the crowds. I excuse myself and
go to the restroom and borrow strength from the words of a loved one.
I emerge from the restroom with a renewed strength. Again there are
people holding me, prodding me, I shrug them off. I move closer to the
mortal remains of my father. I stand there, observing his serene
expressions. A brother holds me and makes me sit fearing that I might
faint. I don't. I just stare blankly. I see why I have so little space
to crouch beside him, as in life, so in death, too many people have a
right over him.
I notice mum crying, caressing his lifeless face which hasn't a single
expression of pain. His eyelids are ever so slightly open, like he
might just wake out of his slumber.
I brush off that thought, I do not wish to dwell upon such things.
That's for myself, later.

They take him away. I'm glad it wasn't a stark white shroud, but
instead a soft maroon blanket that I use daily.
I stay strong, for a while, then locking myself away from all, I cry
out in grief, yet it's gentler than my first screaming anguish of
denial and shock.
I've been practical for long enough.
Crowds swarm me, I calm down.
Again I look at my mum and bottle up.
There's a long way to go before I can rest.

''I am with you, I can't believe it!''

To know that you were with one who cared for you, and who understood
every fiber of your being, and who would not abandon you even in the
most desperate of circumstances, that was the most precious
relationship a person could have and both Jo and Anwesha cherished it.

It wasn't a very long wait before Jo saw Anwesh half walking, half
sprinting while dragging a noisy wheelie-bag. There was a mad grin on
Anwesha's face that seemed steadfastly pasted there with fevicol,
thought Jo.
The smile was both continuous and contagious, it reached Jo's lips too.
She was glad to be in time.
After a half hug which she wished could further prelong with a deep
kiss, Jo directed Anwesha to the pre-booked car.
As they took their place in the car, it began drizzling and little
droplets of water rolled down the glass screens of the taxi.
Everything seemed to distract Anwesha, from the wipers on the driver's
screen to the sights and sounds of the new city. Jo however was
focussed on Anwesha alone. Her gaze hardly shifted away from Anwesha
all along the journey.

The statues swarthed in golden paint, the brightly dressed people, the
unseasonal rain, everything seemed to amaze Anwesha, she scrutinized
it all with a strange curiosity. Jo wondered if that was to avoid
contact with her that anwesha was distracting her elsewhere.

Anwesha in her mind recollected the surprisingly arousing touch that
Jo had chanced upon during their first shared taxi ride. She didnt
want yet another occurence. Plus she knew as a matter of fact that her
city was much less rigid to sapphic identities or infact, most people
were least bothered with the lives of others.

So they travelled on in the city that was once titled the presidency of Madras.

They reached Jo's hostel room after all the registrations and bills
were settled. After arranging the bags and other things, it was now
time to arrange matters of the heart and mind.
Anwesha's heart felt weak suddenly as she let go off her defenses. Her
dam of feelings broke and she hugged Jo who was perched on the only
cot in that room.
Jo felt Anwesha's limp structure being racked with sobs as Anwesha
continued hugging her fiercely, repeating just one line over and over
again,
''I am with you, I can't believe it!''

A very short end...

She was so occupied that she almost forgot, she rushed to the
kandepohe with a pinch of salt to find them burnt. She went to tell
him it would take time, only to finding him hanging, dead.
The salt was left out both before they were burnt.

Not exactly envy nor possessiveness...

..

The fact that her friend is going through a major transition in her
life gladdens me, while at the same time leaves me disheartened. For I
remember a time, when I was involved in drawing a little smile on her
friend's face through my genuine flattery and a few humour-worthy
one-liners.

Fate however had other plans for the friendship between me and her friend.
There was once a time when I awaited her return from her friend,
waiting late into the night & seldom falling asleep as she returned
from her only close female friend on campus.
Then there was a time when I expressed my true admiration for her
friend's writing skills. Her friend truly has an amazing knack for
writing adjectively effective descriptions of all experiences through
her writing.
Then there was a time for envy and a fair bit of possessiveness as she
thought and assumed that I loved her friend more than her!
Then for a yet unknown reason, her friend refused to accept my
existence in her life.
For long hours have I suffered my mind to try understand what might
have led to her such behavior towards me. I have done no ill towards
her, and so I have no reason as to why she refutes my existance. I
have always respected her in all possible manner, yet..

Today again I felt disheartened by the thoughts of her friend, I felt
displaced without her presence although it was for a few hours. I
wished her good night though I had not slept, because I had no good
word to offer her.

Why do I feel this way? What do I do about it?

Memories

Clearing cache..

We all wish for amazingly impossible things that do not exist in
reality so that we could travel back in time, increase our I.Q etc.
Of all those amazing things I wish for, I often think of a device that
would selectively erase certain memories from my life, help me breathe
easy and live better...

Of all the things that can effectively affect our mood and
productivity, memories usually play a grand role. They affirm our
beliefs and values and also have the power to completely destruct our
self beliefs and confidence thus rendering us helpless.

There is not much we can do about our memories, or so I had thought
until that fateful day that the person I truly loved for over 3 years
just passed over our memories like they never really existed. In less
than a year after we had unceremoniously separated, she refused to
accept that such a relationship ever existed between us. To add to my
anguish she spread lies that it was a one sided affair! If I hadn't
secured her hand written letters to me, I too would have come to
probably eventually believe that all of our memories were probably
some unfortunate mid-summer dream!

While I even today continue to be tortured by those memories, she
happily lives in her sweet Lalaland where none of these memories ever
happened! More recently I saw a facebook post with her photo. It
haunted me for days together, she looked tired, punished. I wondered
why. Was she in trouble? Should I help? Will it be fair if I ignored
her as she has ignored the existence of our memories. That would
definitely be the easiest thing to do, or so I had thought. But my
memories of our good times didn't let me rest a moment. I felt that I
was ignoring her in troubled times.

I am a person of my words. I do not do promises, but if I am to give
my word to someone, I will keep it till life flows through my body.
Sigh...
That is the trouble. I am often told that I take life too seriously.
Maybe that is the case. But, in any case, that is the only way of
existance that I know.
Therefore I decided to call upon an old acquaintance, a friend, who
knows everything that happened between the two of us.
She advised me to ignore the entire thing. Easier said than done. But
after great turbulence and much thinking, u came to the conclude that
the friend was right. I must not dwell in the past so much so that I
get stuck in it and can't find my way back.

So this ends with me unfriending her on facebook.
That's how this post ends, never to hopefully have any sequel to it..