Category: Fiction

He had no shape in her mind… Just a manifestation of thoughts

The rustling noises that the corpses make as they burn are not new to her. She lived in the cemetery all her life. She doesn’t remember being outside those high walls. She doesn’t even know that it is forbidden for her to go out into the village. She met people only when they came to burn or bury their loved ones. She saw people cry for their loved ones. She grew up watching people’s love for others without a slightest knowledge of what it feels like to love or to be loved. She never asked questions and so didn’t have a purpose in life.

Her mother died while giving birth to her and was left to drown in the river nearby. They weren’t supposed to have their rituals alongside the others in the village. Her father taught her the duties that are to be performed. “The dead needed to be groomed well before setting them on fire or burying them for the moths to feed on.” He used to laugh. But on a particular dark winter night, he left and never returned. Few people who visited the grounds to perform rituals told her that he died but she never knew for sure. She didn’t care either. There was so much to do in the God’s acre (that’s what her father used to call the place) that she never had time to rest. She kept the premises clean. “Shiva, the destroyer does what we do” is what her father taught her. She never knew how she looked and didn’t bother to groom herself. The small cabin that was built by her father in the corner of the ground was where she slept during the nights. She felt safe under it.

People always baffled her. She couldn’t understand how everybody seems to be good all the time. All that people say in their prayers are that the dead are the pure souls. She imagined the world to be a beautiful place where everybody is noble and honest like they say inside before lighting the pyre. If everybody is as noble as they say when they are dead, then the world must be a wonderful place indeed. But she was never curious enough to go and see it for herself. She was happy with what she has. It is her purpose she thought, to make sure the soul leaves the body in comfort. She was comfortable with death. But things were going to change:

A hot and humid day turned into a night when the skies were grey. The sounds of the thunder made her crawl into her cabin where she covered herself in the rags that she had. She was cold and the rain continued to pour down. She closed her eyes and imagined that the gods were angry about something. May be it was her. She offered prayers chanting verses to Shiva. The wind was harsh and took down mighty trees that had to surrender after a fight. She knew what fear was but she also knew that there was nothing to be afraid of. She understood death so much that life for her is nothing more than a flickering light in the wind. She closed her eyes tightly imagining Shiva dancing to the tunes of the thunder and that brought a smile on her face. She tried to focus on the sound of her own breathe and ignoring the chaos outside.

It was then the door opened and suddenly the sounds of the rain were unbearable. She opened her eyes and saw a dark figure walk into the room. It was a man who was soaked wet and was panting like an animal. It was as if the darkness behind him manifested itself into a person. She couldn’t see him clearly but stood up and walked towards him taking one step at a time. She could now feel the presence of another person in the room. It felt warmer. She was neither afraid nor confused, but was calm and stood right in front of him doing nothing but trying to look into his eyes. It was too dark. He then immediately closed the door behind him and caught her hand. It was years since she felt the touch of a human being. His hand was wet and cold. She felt the blood rushing inside her body. He then came closer and embraced her with all his might. She was lost. It was nothing like what she ever knew. The night became brutal. It was as if two of the greatest forces came face to face, like a storm hitting an old mountain with all its force and the mountain just stood there taking it, feeling it. What happened that night was a surreal painting, a symphony that marked the birth of life surrounded by nothing but death. It was natural…like death…like life… it was something that felt like it had to happen. It was a confluence that was meant to happen… of not just bodies but herself and the world around her. She fell in love with him and then she felt alive.

The next morning, she woke up to the sound of the birds singing; something that she never really paid attention to. She knew right away that the rain had stopped and the sun was out. But there was no sign of the man. For a moment she wondered if everything was just a dream but the warmth of his body she knew was very real. She ran out to see if he was still there but he wasn’t. The freshness of the sun brought a smile on to her face. She never knew she could smile. She looked at the blue sky and was awestruck by its sheer magnificence. She never knew she could feel the things that she was feeling now. She was born again in love. She could still feel the touch of his hand on her body and when she closed her eyes, she could see and feel the darkness that engulfed her. She wanted to be like this. She didn’t want her soul to leave her body because she was now afraid that she might not have what she has now. She found a purpose to live. She had a reason.

Seasons passed but he wasn’t back. Every time it rained, she went inside the cabin and crawled into the corner hoping that he would open the door from behind and enter the room. But he didn’t come. She began to feel lonely. Her daily chores seemed painful and death seemed frightening. She observed young widows crying and suddenly began to feel their pain. On some nights when it rained, she craved for the sound of his heavy breathe and the touch of his hand. All the new feelings were overwhelming to her. Her soul wasn’t in tune with her body. She was having fantasies, dreams where she was somewhere else. Some other place where wasn’t alone and where she was loved. She wanted to be loved. Her real life in the God’s acre seemed out of purpose and she was losing herself… the only thing she ever owned.

One summer night, when the sky was illuminated by stars and yet seemed dead because there was no moon; she overheard an old man talking to his mate about a maniac who attacked and abused several women in the area a few months back and how the villagers finally killed him by stoning him to death. He also spoke about how the man was later thrown into the river. She heard everything and the obvious struck her like a thunder. A part of her wanted to disagree with the truth. But she knew what she had to know. She was never going to see him again. She never saw him in the first place and that is what made it worse. She could never feel him again. The touch of his hand against her skin, the warmth that she felt even when she was drenched, and the newly found love on herself has vanished into thin air. The night felt darker.

He had no shape in her mind. Just a manifestation of thoughts, the thoughts that she never knew were present inside her. She felt lost, not defeated but lost. She didn’t find the answers to her questions and her mind didn’t stop asking. Neither was she able to find a reason nor did things seem natural. What had happened was definitely not fair. One thing she did understand is the irony of her world. Surrounded by death each and every day of her life, she began to realize the pain of loss for the first time in her life and that was just when she began to appreciate and cherish the exact opposite. There was no reason to continue, no purpose to fulfill, no destination to travel to, no person to love. She wanted to leave this world. It didn’t feel beautiful anymore.

“Dude, where do I even begin!! I can’t take it anymore” I was more relieved saying that than angry or furious. Love is full of problems. Coming out of it is a bigger problem.

“But she’s such a sweet girl Ram.” Akash said making sure he was focusing on the road. He was driving and I was in the back seat. I needed my space.

“You know what? I feared this would happen. I am the one who is having problems not you asshole. Don’t take sides here.”

“Man, I’m not taking sides.”

“Good.” I was looking at the birds flying. They used to fascinate me.

“Is it because of her condition? The brittle bones or whatever?” he said taking a right turn. We were on our way to meet a friend at a restaurant for lunch.

“Fuck no!! The disease has nothing to do with that man. In fact that in one of the high notes here.”

“Com’on man… It’s because you can’t get into bed with her properly right?” he turned back with a naughty smile. I could punch him so hard right now.

I met Akanksha at a party. She was a friend of my friend and we hit it off really well. I was a natural with her. She has a skin that smooth and fair. Her hair is short and black. She had eyes that are brown (and a tint of green)

“Don’t be too hard on me.” She said when I was playfully flirting with her. “I have brittle bones.” and then winked. I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or just messing around with me. Later when I enquired, she gave me a 30minute lecture on Osteogenesis Imperfecta aka the “brittle bone disease” and what her situation was. So basically she has weak bones that break easily.

“Must be tough eh?” I said playfully. I wondered how she would put on her underwear and stuff. That sure did explain her weird sense of style when it comes to dressing. She wore loose clothes but her face did have an elegance that dominated her attire.

She was a freelance writer and contributed regularly to several websites. She is also an excellent painter. She made more money than me. I work as a consultant at a real estate firm. I make good money but she made more. Just last week, one of her paintings was sold for twice my monthly salary.

“She’s sucking the life out of me man.” I sighed closing my eyes. I was sure Akash wouldn’t even care to reply. I was going to break-up with her later today. I looked out into the sky and saw a few birds flying and then thought of her.

“Oouchh…” she used to say if I hold her hand too tight. “Remember… don’t be too hard on me.”

Those were different times. She first agreed to go out with me on the condition that I would treat her like a porcelain antic. It’s not too much to ask for considering her situation because she was indeed very fragile. During the 8 months we were together, she had three fractures; one for just falling down from her chair. “Get well soon Plover” I used write on her bandage. But things went down the slippery slope very soon.

“You used to call her something… what is it? Parakeet or something…” Akash spoke without turning back. It’s a long journey and there’s a lot of traffic today.

“Aaahh fuck that… don’t remind me of all that shit man. I’m going to break up with her.” I shouted “And it’s not parakeet. It’s Plover. It was responsible for the discovery of Hawaii.” Yes it indeed was. People followed the Pacific Golden Plovers when they were migrating and discovered Hawaii.

I called her plover because many birds have hollow bones that enable them to fly. Their bones are delicate and light weight and so the skeletal system makes flight easy. Even though she didn’t fly, Akanksha did have delicate bones so I called her that. I even gave up eating chicken because every time I was about to chew a bone, it reminded me of her. She loved it. I hate it… well at least I hate it now. I could eat an entire 12 piece KFC bucket. Not a Zinger though. There wouldn’t be any bone in that.

“I’m not sure if she’s being insecure or attention seeking or by default she’s a psycho or something.” I said and immediately Akash stopped the car. I had a feeling that I crossed the line there. I wondered if he was going to lecture me about true love or punch me in the face. Akash was that forever alone friend who happens to have all the answers for relationship problems.

“We’re here mate.” He said smiling and got out of the car. Three more hours for me to break up with the girl I thought I’d be with for the rest of my life.

            *  *  *  *  *

Keerthi is giving a party for us because it’s her dog’s birthday. She’s that rich. Her dog looks like it’s going to die any moment but I never tell her that. It is at her parents wedding anniversary that I met Akanksha. She’s a family friend of hers and also an employee. Keerthi has this school that she takes care of and Akanksha is an art teacher there. Yes, she’s that good; full of life and always talking about facing challenges and such shit with everybody. Except me that is. I was where she would dump all her misery. I needed to be happy too.

“You need to understand her Ram. After all, see what she might’ve gone through in her life.” Keerthi said looking at me as if I was this asshole who was stealing away candy from school children. I have become a cruel human-being here. I looked at Akash hoping that he would back me up here.

“I told him the same Keerthi.” He was looking at the menu card… that son of a bitch. Keerthi’s dog was looking as if it would bite my face off. I wanted to kill it. Do they allow dogs into restaurants? Oh wait, it’s a rich dog. It could even go into a church.

“Look this has nothing to do with her condition alright? In fact I respect her for that. But she’s sucking the life out of me.” I tried to convince her. I knew this would happen. People begin judging and I will look like a total asshole. They would take her side and make me look like a villain. “And just for the record, her life is not that miserable. She had learnt to deal with that. For heaven’s sake she makes more money than me you know.” I was making a point.

“Oh my god! Is this what this is all about? She’s more successful than you.” Keerthi made her eyes big. Akash began to laugh.

“Holy shit no!! Were you even listening to what I was saying?” I realized I was getting louder. “I’m just saying that even with her situation, she made a very good life for herself because she is far more efficient than most others.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Ofcourse it is. That’s why I respect her.”

“Then what’s the problem Ram? Listen to me… she’s a great girl.” We were back right where we started.

“To you…. to you she’s great Keerthi. All that she does to me is dumping her misery. A single day doesn’t go by without me consoling her. I feel like a therapist sometimes.”

“Ha-ha… you’d make a lousy therapist obviously.” Akash pointed. He was true. I imagined myself sitting in a room full of books with Akanksha lying on the couch. I’d be sitting with a notepad taking down bullet points as she poured out story after story involving broken bones and shattered dreams. I would indeed make a lousy therapist.

“Is it about the… you know… yesss-yeee-yexx?” Keerthi asked hesitantly while finishing the dessert. Akash looked at me right away waiting to see what I’d say. He wanted this answer so badly. He was trying to control his laughter… I’m going to kill this son of a bitch.

“No, this has nothing to do with sex. She’s not that brittle. Have to be a little gentle that’s all. Fuck… I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you people.” I took another bite of the vanilla ice-cream. I didn’t eat chicken. I just had a vegetable salad and a soup.

I know I was the one who brought her into the relationship. She kept telling me not to be hard on her. I promised her that I would take care of her because she needed to be taken care of. She’s literally as delicate as a doll. I was ready for that because I found her special. She was this talented young lady who knew how valuable life is. But things changed as intimacy began to grow. She was just using me for her emotional outbursts. But for everybody else, she was this talented, bright young lady who fought against all odds. There were instances when I explained to her about this and yet I was getting screwed over and over again. I even have these nightmares where she’s this huge bird and I’m a worm trying to dig myself into a hole but she would eventually get to me. Oh my… what have I become?!!

“Why wouldn’t she be happy with me Keerthi? Like she is with everybody else.” It was more of a helpless question rather than me making a point.

“She needs you to fill that void in her life Ram. She finally has someone to share them with.” I don’t even understand what she is saying anymore.

“Don’t I deserve to be happy?” that was my question all along. I just wanted people to understand. I do care about what my friends think because I value them.

“Ummm….” They both looked at each other.

“It’s about being happy with someone you love. It’s not social service.” that may seem harsh but that is all I had in my mind. I would only love somebody if I wanted to love them not because I had to. I could totally eat some KFC now.

*  *  *  *  *

“What is it Ram? Why did we meet here at KFC?” she was 30mins late and is asking me questions. I could break-up with her just for that. I finished eating 6 pieces of hot wings and kept the bones there in my plate. I was cruel.

“Would you like to have something?”

“No. you finish. We’ll go out for a drive. I need to talk to you about this kid who got hurt today in school.” Oh boy!! Here we go again. One more sob story that would end up with her crying and me consoling. How many times should I do this?

“Aahh…umm…Akanksha….” she was alert. I didn’t call her plover so she knew this was important. I didn’t want to call her that anymore.

“This is not working for me anymore… I mean us… it’s not working…” I used the traditional line. Yes, I watch a lot of movies which obviously she doesn’t approve of.

“What….” she had no idea where that came from.

“It’s just that I’m not comfortable around all this misery and sadness you know…” I was trying to be as polite as possible.

“What… what do you mean?”

“Hmm… well… when was the last time we spoke about something fun?”

“I thought…” I begin to feel bad now.

“When was the last time we spoke about my job or our friends or about anything that is not sad?” I was on a roll.

“Ohh…”

“It’s just that all that we do now is talk about your sad stories.”

“But… I thought you said you’d take care of me.” She said fighting back her tears. I feel like an asshole but this is for the greater good.

“Ofcourse I would’ve… if you were the same person that I loved…”

“I am the same person Ram.”

“No you’re not Akanksha…”

I didn’t expect this to turn this ugly but those things are to be said. I brought her a Pepsi and I preferred to eat a zinger. She had too much already so I decided to go boneless.

“Why are you doing this to me? You said you’d not be hard on me.” She said looking into my eyes.

It felt as if Mike Tyson punched me right in the guts. I feel sorry for her now. I hate myself. I didn’t have anything to say. I even began to wonder if I was doing the wrong thing.

“It’s about the sex isn’t it?” she asked and it was then I totally lost it. After all that we’ve gone through and all that support I gave her, she thinks that I’m willing to leave her just because of how moderately enjoyable the sex would be to me? That is seriously sick.

“Listen Birdie…” I called her a birdie. “I respect you for who you are and what you’ve become even with your condition. It is you as a person that I hate now and no, it had nothing to do with sex.” I was clear and loud. But it would’ve been better if I did the same talk sitting. People around us began to stare at us and I knew I went way over the line there.

Life is all about mysterious things. We never know when things will happen or why. I never knew that a girl with Osteogenesis Imperfecta would punch me right in the face with around 20 people staring at us. Akanksha stood up quietly from her seat and looked at me with the eyes of an eagle, fierce even for a bird… and then punched me with all her strength and my nose began to bleed. The world knew that I was an asshole and I knew that I was a free bird once again.

P.s… As she used all her strength to punch me, Akanksha fractured three of her bones and I had to take her to the hospital myself. Also, I decided never to eat KFC again. Bad memories!!

She looked at me as if I was a thief who just got beaten up by some guy on the road and like somebody who carries alcohol in his back pack and is about to shamelessly get drunk in a few minutes.

They say it’s no sin if you don’t have a back-log in Engineering but if you haven’t tried Vodka (or) Beer (or) Rum, there is simply no point. Who cares if you are a topper? Who cares if you have the same girlfriend since 10^th class? As the old saying goes: “Being a Virgin can be excused but not having a drink or two in Engineering is inexcusable.”

Location: My Hostel Room

It was 9:30 in the night and I was with five of my best friends and they were with 9 of their best friends. Okay, by their best friends I mean the bottles of alcohol. I am not used to calling them by their names so I was still using Alcohol. Tonight, I was going to drink for the first time.

“Alcohol?? You don’t call me Human Being, Do you??” asked Nikhil who claims to be the best drinker in the college in terms of Alcohol intake.

“Ok ok… The beer and the Rum.” I was nervous. It was the first time I’m holding a bottle of beer in my hand.

“So are we gonna start or what??” shouted Narayana who is also an expert drinker who specializes in Budweiser beer.

We had 6 bottles of Beer, two Half bottles of Vodka and a Full bottle of Black Rum. To be fair, I didn’t know there are types based on color in Rum.

But just when I was about to open the beer bottle with the opener, we heard a sound downstairs and ran out. It was the chief warden on one of his surprise visits.

“What the fuck?? Couldn’t he come sometime else?? Retard!!!” sighed Mahesh, an amateur drinker who had his first beer a few weeks back. But like everyone else, he pretends to be an expert in the business.

Ten minutes was all it took for us to pack all the stuff in my backpack. 15 mins later, we were on our bikes (3 bikes in total for 6 of us) riding on the highway. Having no place to go with all the bottles in my bag, we decided to go somewhere far from the city and drink.

“Let’s go to Kanexa.” suggested Kumar. He is an expert bike rider and personally I am sure he drinks more than Nikhil. However, like Sachin Tendulkar… Never boasts about his abilities.

Location: Kanexa

Let me tell you about Kanexa first. It’s this place where the government sanctioned lands for private firms to establish software companies. The place has been under construction for quite a few months now. It is abandoned most of the time and people usually go there at night to party on the roads and as most of it is on hill tops, it offers wonderful scenery as well. It seemed like a perfect place to lift the gates and let alcohol into my blood stream errr… or my digestive system (whatever).

So there we were. 5 men, each with an opened bottle of chilled Budweiser Beer taking pictures and videos of our grand little adventure. I was excited, petrified and terrified all at the same time. Kumar and Nikhil already finished half their bottles but all I did was smell the beer and tried to stop myself from puking. I looked at the tar road that was definitely cleaner than my hostel room and went walking towards the edge of the cliff. Before taking a sip I looked down the hill and saw the tiny little houses of the construction workers. The lights there looked as if a few stars dropped from the sky.

“Hmmm… poor fellows. Can’t even get a beer at this hour… hahaha” I amused myself. But when I turned back, it felt as if somebody punched in my guts with their fist.

There were two cops talking to my friends. Very seriously…

I had no clue what to do. I quickly threw the full beer bottle down the cliff into the bushes and went silently and stood behind Kiran who stood silently while Kumar did all the talking.

“This place is not what it used to be. There is a lot of patrolling these days. Come lets go to the station and we’ll discuss there.” said one of the cops. They are just constables but that is more than enough to get us into trouble.

We tried persuading them but they were impossible. No wait, when there is money, nothing is impossible. So, after giving them all the money we had in our wallets, they finally decided to let us go. That was what they intended to do right from the beginning anyway.

“You guys drink quickly and go back to your college. The Inspector will be here soon.” the cop who was driving the bike said before finally letting us go.

What?? Drink quickly?? Then I threw away my beer for nothing?? Damn!! That was supposed to be my first beer.

The rest of them finished their bottles and soon after they are done making an ass out of me, we were on our way back. I felt like an idiot for missing a wonderful opportunity to get drunk. The people in the tiny houses seemed happier.

We decided to have the vodka and Rum back in the hostel itself. The warden would’ve been long gone and moreover the Coke bottles were still in my room.

Location: Beach road

I was sitting behind Kumar on his bike as I knew no matter how much he drinks; he’d have total control when it comes to riding a bike. The rest were on two other bikes and all the booze was in my backpack.

It was around 11:30 in the night when we were back in the city. Kanexa was a long way and when it’s night and especially when people are drunk, its better we came slow. We were heading back to the hostel just when Kiran stopped us.

“We need to get Chicken Manchurian or something… like in the movies.”

The Mobile Van in the beach road served all kinds of chicken items till midnight. The guy was about to close and leave for the day by the time we reached but we somehow managed to convince him.  It took the man exactly 23 minutes to make the ugliest looking chicken snack I ever looked and he packed it in something that I’d never touch with my bare hands.

“That would be 240/- sir.” He said. It was at that moment something amazing struck all the 6 of us at the same time. We had no money. All that we had was taken by those cops back in Kanexa. We all looked at each other as the man continued to pack the van. There was only one logical thing to do. Run away with the Chicken 65.

It was something that none of us had ever done before. All our bike speeds crossed 100kmphs and when I looked back after a couple of minutes, there was no sign of the mobile chicken van. We were laughing out of excitement and took several roads, crossed several blocks before finally stopping to see if the coast was clear. What we just did was unbelievable considering the situation we were in. After everybody came back to their senses, we started to go back to the hostel.

There usually was a heavy police patrol in those parts of the city and now that we were involved in a crime, getting caught might turn out to be risky. So, we need to be extra careful.

The coast was clear and the other two bikes left for the hostel without even turning back. It would’ve been alright on any other day but the problem was; our bike wouldn’t start. It was a perfect moment to shout out loud “Holy Fuck!!!” There was no way we could contact my friends and call them back as their mobile phones were in my back pack along with the bottles of Rum and Vodka.

Kumar had no idea what to do. We tried starting the bike for 10 minutes but finally decided to give up. We parked the bike under a tree in front of a huge house and began to walk. The college would at least be a couple of kilometers away and if we are lucky enough, there wouldn’t be any cops on the way. But if there ought to be any, we would be screwed big time coz at that hour if we get caught with those bottles; in that neighborhood, that would no doubt be a perfect recipe for a disaster.

Location: The Neighborhood

Half way through the path, we were pretty happy things didn’t turn out so bad after all. We walked past Kumar’s girl friend Divya’s house. He showed me her room and also told how easy it is to climb on to the balcony from the compound wall and enter her room. He said he tried it a few times earlier but I wasn’t sure if he was saying the truth or not. Anyway, it was an adventurous night and as I was getting drunk for the first time, a little story to remember the events won’t hurt right?

Oh boy!!! I must’ve spoken about adventure and hurt a bit too soon. There were a few police bikes coming our way. We both were scared as hell and as running would not be preferable; we turned back and began to walk fast… real fast. I could picture myself in the police station where I’d be in my underwear sitting in a corner and the press reporters would be taking my photos as I try to cover my face with my hands. Nooooooooo… please God!! Do something.

“Come quick, hide behind this Van.” Kumar pulled my hand.

We sat behind a van that was parked to the side of the road. There was absolute silence. All that we could hear were the bike engines of the cops, our panting breathe and a few dogs barking in the neighborhood. There were only a few street lights and the moon was bright and full. It was beautiful.

Those were probably the longest 3 minutes in my life… and the fact that we were trying to hide from cops by sitting behind a van was less exciting and more humiliating and scary. If anything goes wrong, they might think we’re robbers. But luckily the Van saved us and the cops left the street. Thank god the Van was in the right place at the right time. Hmmmm…. the Van. Wait, the Van??!!!! It was that Mobile Chicken Van that we ran away from and when I looked at the driver’s seat, the guy was already looking at me with a wicked smile. He was enjoying the show from the beginning. Kumar was as scared as I was.

Now that the Police were gone, we stood up to run as fast as we could but who were we kidding anyway? It was a Van… a Chicken Van. He caught us both and began beating us up. It was not something harsh and ugly. I could see everything in slow-mo. His eyes opening wide, his strong fist coming right at my face and then into my stomach; everything was like symphony. After a few minutes, he left leaving both of us on the street but not before taking both the Vodka bottles. He was at least kind enough to leave the Rum.

“Next time you boys need Chicken 65, you know where to find me.” and he left.

It took us some 7-8 minutes to get back on our feet and to finally make sense of what just happened. It was the first time I got beaten up and it was definitely not something that I would like to remember.

“Look on the bright side man; we’re not going to the police station.”

“What?? Bright side??” this guy is unbelievable.

“So what do we do now?” he asked me. I had no idea.

“What if we ask Divya to throw down her bike keys and we take her bike back to hostel?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s like robbery asshole.” I just could believe what he was saying.

“How would it be robbery man? Her bike is parked outside under the tree. She’ll throw the keys from upstairs and we go back to the hostel. We can return it in the morning.” That seemed to be better plan when I listened the second time.

“Okay then, call her.”     

After 15 minutes of thorough negotiations on the phone, Divya finally came on to the balcony with the keys.

“Hi Darling…” Kumar said smiling at her. She was in her night robes and was evidently pissed off.

“Take the keys and get lost. I’ll talk with you in the morning. Make sure you bring it back before 7 in the morning.” She threw the keys down and looked at me.

“Hi Divya… thanks for the help… you have no idea what this mea…” I started to thank her but she looked at me as if I was a thief who just got beaten up by some guy on the road and like somebody who carries alcohol in his back pack and is about to shamelessly get drunk in a few minutes. I realized there was a proper reason behind her look and decided to shut my mouth and silently looked down. She walked away into her room.

Back to the Room:

Kumar brought her bike out without making any noise and within a few seconds, we were reaching the top speeds on her scooter. It took us exactly 9 minutes to reach the hostel. I never thought that there would be a day when I’d be glad and relieved to be back in my hostel room. All my friends were already waiting for us outside my room.

Soon as they saw us, they came running with questions like: Where the hell have you two been? What’s with the scooter? What happened to your faces? We were searching all around for you two.

Not that we were proud or happy, but we shared the events with them and there was an awkward silence for a few seconds. Then we broke into a mad laughter that even got the watchman excited. People came out from their rooms to see what happened and some of them were polite enough to ask us to shut the fuck up.

“All that we have now is a bottle of rum?” Mahesh took out the bottle from my bag soon after we settled back in my room. Everybody was relieved that after all the chaos, we were back in the room.

“So what’s it going to be man? Shall I mix you a nice drink with Rum and Coke?” Nikhil asked me with a smile. After all that happened in the last four hours, we were back in the room where the night first started.

“Hmmm… I think I’ll just have the Coke please. No Rum.”

 

Note from the author: This post is a sequel to my earlier post “Anuradha” In case you haven’t read it, make sure did you before reading this… Sudhams

Thursday

Time: 12:00pm

Location: Classroom

67 days since the last time I met her (not that I was counting or anything), Anuradha was almost out of my system and I was busy with my preparation for the final examinations. But that was until two days back when the attender called me to the reception (in the college) in the middle of a physics class. The receptionist showed me a letter and asked me if I was the “Aravind” that the letter was addressed to. I wasn’t sure but for some reason I was hoping that it would be for me. I took the letter and immediately felt like shouting out in joy when I saw the ‘from address’. “Anuradha” was all that I needed to read.

“Yes, it’s for me. Thank you very much.” I said looking at the receptionist.

“The next time they write a letter, ask them to write the address properly.” she said bluntly.

Anu had something that she wanted to tell me and all that she knew was my name and the name of my college (which she might’ve known after our conversation on the terrace). So, she decided to write to me as we don’t have mobile phones.

All that the letter said was:

“I am going to my parents place for a few weeks. The train will be passing by your town at 12:30pm on Thursday. If possible, come to the railway station to meet.”

If possible?? If possible?? What in the world would be of a greater importance than this??

I was waiting for Thursday from that second.

Time: 12:07pm

I was still sitting in the class looking at the clock every 5 seconds waiting for the lunch break which was scheduled at 12:15pm every day. I’d have 15 mins to reach the station (If I take an auto) and can come back by 1:30pm when the break would end. All that I needed to do was to jump over the compound wall when no one was watching. I didn’t even tell this to any of my friends as well. I wanted absolute discretion.

That bell seemed like it was never going to ring until finally after ages it actually did. I ran outside towards the restrooms where the wall is a little shorter and would be easier for me to climb. Just when I was about to proceed with my plan, I heard a voice from behind,

“Aravind…. Aravind…” it was my classmate. “Your mom is here. They’re calling you to the principal’s office.”

What??? Did she know about the letter?? Did somebody knew about my plan and called her up?? I didn’t tell anyone?? What should I tell mom now?? More importantly, how can I meet Anu now??

I was already in the principal’s office before my mind could find the answers for all the questions.

“Hi Aravind. Get your things; your mom wants you to go with her.” The principal told me. My mom looked a little worried but from the looks of it, I was sure it had nothing to do with the letter.

“Where?” I asked my mom.

“Well Grandma is a little sick and Grandpa wants us to com….”

“What???!! Is it serious??” I was really scared.

“No no… it’s nothing to worry about. She’s having that problem with the kidneys again and they took her to the hospital that’s all. Let’s go now.” she said and within minutes we were on the way to my grandparent’s town.

I looked at my mom who stared intently on to the highway as she drove us both. She had always been a strong woman. A lecturer by profession, she also worked for an NGO and helped quite a few women both financially and also in their family disputes. But all that I could see in her eyes that minute was the concern towards her own mother. She was scared. I was scared.

The two hour ride seemed like 10 minutes as I was in my own thoughts. I had wonderful memories with my grandma. She was like any grandma, probably around 70 years old. She is very weak now but when I was a small kid, I remember her being a very energetic and bold grandmother. She used to do most of the gardening herself. She used to give me money every time I visit their place. That was my first pocket as well.  She used to tell me a million stories whenever we used to spend the vacations with them. I used to sleep beside her often and she would talk about her parents and her college before I finally fell asleep. But eventually like any other teenager, I grew up and grandparents were no longer interesting and fun to hang around with.

Time: 2:45pm

When I opened my eyes, the car stopped in front of the hospital. It was a huge building with glass windows. As soon as we parked the car and got out, the maid from my grandparent’s house that saw us coming ran towards us and took the bag that my mom was carrying. She showed us the way and began walking behind us. I followed my mom silently not looking at the other patients and their families. I was silently hoping that grandma would be fine and that we could go back home soon. Hospitals were never my idea of a place to hang out. I cannot bear the smell of the medicines and the thought that several people had died in those rooms before gave me chills.

“Oh good you’re here. Go talk to your father, he’s a little worried.” said the Police uncle who came walking towards us. I understood that he had accompanied them to the hospital. He was a nice man and a good neighbor for over a few decades now. Except a few hiccups, he had always been an understanding family friend. My mom followed him quietly and I walked slowly to my grandfather who was sitting in the chair just outside the glass doors of the ICU (Intensive Care Unit). She sat beside him holding his hand. I didn’t say anything but just stood there trying to figure what was happening inside the ICU.

“Thanks a lot uncle, this means a lot.” said my mom to the Police man and continued to talk to my grandpa “Don’t worry dad, it’s going to be alright.” He didn’t say a word and just nodded. For the first time I saw an unusual fear in eyes. He was afraid of something… afraid of the inevitable. But my heart pleaded otherwise. I wanted things to be alright. This is becoming way too much for me to handle.

“Need anything else grandpa?” I heard a voice approaching us. A voice that I instantly recognized. It was Anu. She was carrying some medicines. I could see some syringes and other bottles through the transparent covers. She saw me and smiled and I smiled back. I forgot everything about her and the letter. What was she doing here?? Wasn’t she supposed be on the train?? Ever since we started in my college, all I was thinking was about my grandma and I forgot all about Anu.

“No, that’ll be all for now.” said the police uncle and took the medicines from her hand and went inside the ICU.

“Thank you so much darling. You have no idea what this means to us.” said my mom to Anu asking her to sit beside her. I continued to stand beside my grandpa looking at Anurahda. I was equally surprised and relieved at the same time. Don’t know why but I felt better seeing Anu there. A little better.

When uncle came out, my mom took him to the reception area spoke with him about the condition of my grandma. I followed them and Anu came walking beside me. I wasn’t sure what I should say to her so I kept quiet. She didn’t say anything either. Uncle enquired if my mom called up her siblings.

“They should be here before it’s too late dear.” he said making it clear that my worst fears are coming true. I had to deal with death for the first time. I had no idea what to do. I was afraid this might happen one day but I wasn’t ready yet. I looked at my mom and knew that she would be strong and would take care of herself. After all she’s the eldest of the children and had always been the care taker of the family. She was in fact the one who resolved the fight with the Police uncle.

Soon after they finished talking, my mom came to me, looked into my eyes and said “I need you to be strong alright?” She knew I heard them talking. I think she was glad she didn’t have to break the news to me.

“Yeah sure.” I shrugged looking down at the floor.

“No look at me. You don’t have to feel bad. She had a happy life.” She walked away slowly soon after I told her that I’d be fine. Uncle and Anu accompanied her and I too followed them back to the waiting room near the ICU. I asked the nurse if I could go in and see my grandma but she politely refused saying that the visiting hours are over and I could see her in the evening.

Time: 7:15pm

“I think you should go home now uncle. Aravind and I can manage. You’ve already done too much.” my mom told uncle as it was getting late.

“Hmmm… it’s time for my medication too. You sure you can manage on your own dear? Shall I leave Anu here to help you? She’s such a sweetheart.” he said looking at his granddaughter with a sense of pride and satisfaction.

She had been of immense support all through the day. It wasn’t just about bringing the medicines. She gave a much needed moral support to my mother and most of all, even though I haven’t talked much with her the entire day, she made me feel peaceful amidst the biggest crisis of my life. I wanted her to stay.

“No no uncle, she’s just a kid. I wouldn’t want her to stay here with us.” My mom refused to accept.

“It’s alright aunty. It won’t be a problem. I’d love to stay and help.” Anu spoke with genuine concern.

“No Anuradha. I think you should go. Thank you so much for being so kind.” My mom offered to walk with them to the parking lot thanking them again and again for being so supportive. I watched them leave sitting in the chair beside my grandpa. Anu looked back and saw me watching her leave and gave a helpless smile. I knew she wanted to stay and help me deal with the situation. She knew I’d be better with her around and she wanted to stay but my mom didn’t want to share the burden with others.

“You can go in now if you want.” I heard a voice. It was the nurse who then showed me the way to the ICU. Thoughts of Anu ran through my head. Can I see my grandma in this position? Things were beginning to get hard to handle. My legs became weak as I stepped into the room. The room was cold and I felt my feet shivering but wasn’t sure if it was because of the air conditioning or the fear. It was my fear.

Her eyes were partly open and there were tubes of all kinds hanging from her face. She was definitely unconscious and was in pale blue colored robes. She was finding it difficult to breathe as I could see her fighting for each breathe even with the mask around her face. It was definitely not the condition one would want to see their beloved in. But I just did and I couldn’t stay there any longer. That was too much already and I was now afraid how I was going to deal with the coming events. I wished I didn’t go in. I didn’t want that to be last memory I have of her. I felt as if I was left alone… helpless. Death can be horrifying. No wonder the world is afraid of it.

Time: 9:24pm

I was sitting in the waiting hall along with my mother. We convinced Grandpa that he need some rest so he left a few minutes ago (along with the maid) to stay with Police uncle for the night. The fact however was that staying there would only make him strain his body and mind. He needed his medication as he has health issues of his own. So mom decided he better not stay at the hospital. So, I was alone with my mom who by now was pretending to be asleep resting on the wall. I was sure she was thinking about her mother. My grandmother.  All she got was a few more hours as the doctors have told her and there we were waiting for my mother’s siblings (a sister and two brothers) to reach the hospital before it was all over. They were already on the way and would reach by dawn tomorrow. I wanted to console my mother but that wasn’t necessary. If anybody needs a support, it was me. I was ashamed of being so weak but I couldn’t help as it was death I was dealing with.

I wanted to remember my grandma as the person who used to tell me stories when I slept beside her as a kid. As somebody who was the first to wish me on my birthdays, Who would pray for me every time I go out to take a test, Who shared her past with us. She always had stories to tell… lots of them. That’s how I wanted to remember her, not like what I’ve seen earlier inside the ICU. Tears began to roll down my face and I tried to fight them back by closing my eyes tight.

“Anuradha? What are you doing here? I told you all this is not necessary.” I opened my eyes to see my mom talking with Anuradha as she stood there in a blue dress smiling inconveniently as my mom resisted her presence.

“It’s alright aunty. Grandpa wanted me to go and I really want to stay here. She said and gave the Tiffin boxes. My mom hugged her and asked her to sit beside her. I was relieved. It felt as if weights are lifted off my body.

Half an hour later, we convinced my mom that she needed a nap. After all, she has been restless the entire afternoon. I was left with Anu for the first time since our arrival.

“How did you convince your grandpa to come here? I know he wouldn’t have asked you himself.” I asked her as we walked towards the balcony at the end of the corridor. I didn’t know a better way to start a conversation.

“Well, I told him that you were a lazy bum and you are of no use.” she said without breaking the sentence and without even smiling.

“What???” I couldn’t help but laugh, for the first time the entire day. It was a rough day indeed.

Then I asked her about the letter she sent and she explained how her journey was canceled as grandma got sick all of a sudden.

“She is really a sweet person. I’ve grown fond of her in the recent weeks.” She told.

“Yeah, I always loved her.” That sight inside the ICU flashed through my mind and I closed my eyes.

“It’s going to be alright Aravind.” She kept her hand on my shoulder looking at me. I felt inconvenient when she began being sympathetic. I didn’t need that. “You should know that she had a long and happy life. That’s what people pray for.”

“Hmmm… yeah. But the thing is, I’m not used to people dying around me… it’s all too much… you know” I tried explaining but I didn’t know what to say.

“You always come here for Christmas, don’t you?” she asked me. I wasn’t expecting that question from her but I really felt the urge to answer it.

“Yes, not all but I remember spending most of the Christmas and New years at my grandparents place. I love it here.”

“Hmm… then you must be having a lot of stories to tell…”

Time: 11:38pm

I have been talking with Anu for almost two hours now and all that I was telling her were stories of how I used to spend my vacations at my grandparents house. She made me talk. We’ve both attended my mom a couple of times bringing her coffee. She said she’ll take a nap before her younger sister arrives which may be a couple of hours.

We had the balcony to ourselves for most of the time. We even talked (Actually I was the one talking) in the corridors and the waiting hall where my mom rested. Strangely, I got used to the Hospital smell. I told Anu about the Sunday morning breakfast with the entire family, the poor beggar who used to wait in front of the house on weekends knowing my grandma was kind enough to feed him for the day, the ice cream man who used to ring a bell that made all the kids from the house run on to the road, the old lady who used to sell toys and several other stories. All that she did was listen. Anuradha, who in no way related to me listened to each and every story that I told her with the enthusiasm that I used to show when my grandma used to tell stories to me. Her eyes glittered and her laughter was pleasing to the eyes and was soothing to the heart.I was letting myself go. I never knew I still remembered most of the stories that I told her.

Not sure if it was her intention or not, but talking to her about all those stories from my childhood, especially those that involved my grandma and me, made me feel good for some reason. I know that things are never going to be the same ever again, but that is what life is all about. What is important is that you need to make sure that your run is worth the while and should leave somebody else with memories they’ll cherish for the rest of their lives. My grandmother did exactly that. With a married life of over45 years and a huge family that adores her, she touched the lives of everyone in one way or the other and they will never forget her. I will never forget her. She’ll always be alive in all those stories that she told me and in all those beautiful memories that she is leaving us with.

“But I didn’t get to say good bye.” I looked at Anu.

“You don’t have to say good bye Aravind.” and then she hugged me. This was not like either of the hugs that we had before. It was a warm, comforting and most of all, a much needed hug.

Time: 12:30am

Police uncle and grandpa came walking in to the waiting hall where the three of us were already waiting. The doctor has said a few minutes ago that it has become critical and all that they could do now was to put her on the Ventilator. This meant that it was already over but they can make her body breath for some more time for the people coming to see her (for the last time). They left the decision to us and my mom immediately called up Police uncle who came (with my Grandpa) rushing in no time. My grandpa was totally upset and it was a difficult decision to make for all of us. My mom began making phone calls. Police uncle and Anu didn’t say a word probably because they wanted the family to decide. I didn’t know what to say either. I want to keep her alive but at what cost? The doctor said that the Ventilator will give the patient immense pain and suffering (the entire respiratory action will be performed by a medical device). I wanted to say no but that would mean asking them to make my Grandmother die… huhhhh… the most difficult situation I was ever in.

“Dad wants to wait for the rest of the family to arrive but that won’t be till tomorrow morning.” My mom came seeking uncle’s advice. He didn’t expect my mom would discuss this with him.

“Oh… but the doctor says it’ll make her suffer… we cannot do that dear.” That was exactly what I was thinking but he didn’t say the key words.

My mother looked at me. I knew she had it in her mind but she wants to hear it from someone else. I didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t use the ventilator or whatever that is aunty. She had a good fight and it is only fair we let her go in peace. That’s what she would want.” Anuradha said making everybody in the room silent. That was what I had in mind but I couldn’t speak that out. No one said anything. My grandfather started to cry silently. My mom looked at Anu for a second without saying anything and then silently sat beside my grandpa trying to console him.

Anu hugged her grandpa and he patted on her back and kissed her on the forehead reassuring that she did the right thing as she began to cry. I stood there looking at the ICU door which was just a few feet away and surprisingly I didn’t think of that horrific image of my grandma in her hospital robes. I saw my grandma smiling at me as she slept beside me telling stories as she cuddled me and played with my hair. That was how I was going to remember her and I wasn’t going to say good bye… ever…

Time: 1:13am

MY GRANDMOTHER DIED

To be continued…..

“He will swallow up death in victory; and the Lord GOD will wipe away tears from off all faces; and the rebuke of his people shall he take away from off all the earth: for the LORD hath spoken it”
(Source: Holy Bible – Isaiah 25:8)

I never knew where I got it from, but ever since I remember, I always had this fantasy, a dream or whatever it is; to look someone in the eye and punch him right in his face. It’s not human to do such a thing but that’s what my dad always told me, the world is no place for the good. You should be able to fight for your existence. It may not be true for everybody but considering where I come from, you need to be ready to fight or else you’ll be left on the floor to die… like my dad.

The place where I grew up was what one would call a slum. I would call it an animal shelter because what you find there are creatures without an ounce of humanity or whatever it is that separates human beings from animals and beasts. People who live there are usually murderers who kill for money or escaped convicts who don’t mind robbing their own parents. My father used to do odd jobs for a local real estate dealer before he himself tried his hand at selling land. That apparently didn’t go well with his boss and he hired people from our own locality to kill him. I’ve seen people kill others before. At least six times before, but that was different. I was seventeen years old and was sleeping in the corner of our small house when people came banging on the door. My dad tried to run away from the back door but they were too many. I saw him fight back for a while in the vast fields under the bright moon light, but it was just a matter of minutes. They slit his throat with a pocket knife (yeah, that’s the value they give to life) and left him to bleed and eventually die.

For a young person whose father had just died and who never knew what his mother looked like, I was never short of sympathy that people showed on me. Not everybody though. There were few families in the locality that were willing to send me food for a few weeks. It was strange that in the midst of something that is so cruel and gruesome, there was something to feel human about; the only thing that reminded me that I was not an animal. But I just laid there inside the house thinking about what happens to people when they die. It always baffled me. The answer can only be known when I am dead. But the very thought of death and its aftermath always fascinated me.

On one of those rainy nights when it seemed like the entire sky is melting down on to the earth, I stood looking outside into the field where my father was murdered. I don’t even remember the faces of the people who killed him, but strangely I wasn’t angry on them. They were just a few thick skinned beasts who would do anything if they are paid enough dough. They usually drink a lot of alcohol before they go on a mission like this and finish it off before running away to some distant place in a lorry that carries wheat or rice bags. They return after a few months and by that time people would forgot everything. They were just beasts who would kill a man just as easily as they would kill a goat. They need to be drunk that’s all and they were pretty much drunk that night when my father fell dead on the ground with blood gushing out from his throat.

I could never take that sight out of my mind. I didn’t come out of the house as I didn’t feel like I had a connection with the outer world. People stopped sending me food and few of them probably thought that I ran away or was dead somewhere (Even I wasn’t sure if I was dead or alive). No one really cared. People had their own problems to worry about and in that locality, problems meant death and survival. I don’t complain though. I would do the same if something like this happened to someone else in the neighborhood. That’s how we lived there. I just laid there for hours together; sometimes with my eyes wide open but all that I could see was darkness. I lost count of minutes, hours and even days. I didn’t know if it was a night or a day. I began to think if that was how death feels like.

When a window broke a few days later, I saw a ray of sunlight creeping into the house. There were thousands of dust particles floating and shining in that light. I was on the ground with my eyes half open. They were there all along but I was blind enough to not take notice. But what I did notice at that moment was a half filled bottle of rum at the corner of the room. I dragged myself towards it opened the bottle. The smell of the drink was intoxicating and the heat that it produced as it went down my throat was liberating. Not sure how much time it took me but I threw the bottle aside after finishing each and every drop of it.

I walked on to the roads as if the world to me, seized to exist. People looked at me as if I was some kind of a monster. They were the real monsters but no one was ready to accept it. When everybody around you is as cruel and ugly hearted as you are, you have no sense of remorse or guilt. Isn’t that what our history had taught us? I didn’t look at anybody but walked straight to the place where my father’s body fell as he died. They probably took his body somewhere to make that sure it won’t become a big deal. They usually tie the body to a rock and throw it in the abandoned well nearby or into the canal that is a few kilometres away. Nobody would bother to search for it and even the families choose to ignore it to save the funeral costs.

There were no signs of a murder there. I could feel the alcohol making my head turn and my eyes blur but I could distinguish between a simple piece of land and a crime scene. The rains might’ve washed away the blood, the foot prints and every other thing that might indicate that a murder happened there. I thought about my dad’s old boss that wanted my dad to be dead. But strangely I don’t feel anything for him. Not anger, not rage. He was just trying to protect his business and that’s what anybody would do. Hell, my father might’ve killed others just because that guy ordered him to. I had no feelings for him and clearly there weren’t going to be any.

For the next few days, I slept in a farm under the tree and sometimes on the roads. I don’t know what I did but sleeping there made me feel at home. The ground seemed softer after the rains. My clothes got worn out. My body soaked in the rain and dried in the sun and slowly I began to feel a silence inside me that finally decided to break open. All I wanted was some way to let the angst get out. I wanted to feel sorry for my own situation. I needed to find a way to let myself break open. I needed to find a way to free myself from my own clutches. I began to feel hungry again.

The house once we lived in has become a place where people usually played cards or just sat together to drink. Many times I saw wives cheating on their husbands with other men by sleeping with them in my house. That’s the world I live in but that’s not the house I wanted to live in. I mostly slept on the road and ate from the garbage that people threw away. Nobody seemed to care anymore. I begged people for money to buy myself some liquor. I’ve become a part of the neighborhood and they didn’t see me as the kid who lost his parents. I was a drunk, filthy, ugly bastard who roamed their streets and slept on the roads while they used my house to fuck other people’s family and life. For them, I was just a body without life or any significance…a corpse.

On one cold night, I was staring at the stars and observing their patterns when somebody ran over me suddenly. Before I could lift my head to see who it was, a group of men hit me as they ran chasing a lady into the fields. They were probably going to kill her. Without a slightest idea as to what I’d do once I reach there, I began to run after them. By the time I was there, people gathered around to see what was happening. A man stood there beating a lady with his bare hands. She was bleeding. Nobody moved from their places and were watching the proceedings as if they could do nothing about it. The man took blow after blow cursing her with the ugliest words a man could say to a woman. From what everybody was talking, I understood that the man was cheating on her and when she questioned him in front of everybody, he decided to kill her.

I believe certain acts of courage are products of instinct and so are the events that are utterly stupid. No matter what it was, I ran towards the man with all the force I could gather and pinned him to the ground. I could hear people shouting evidently shocked as that was totally uncalled for. But I was sure nobody would come to stop me. The man tried to fight back but I was too strong for him. He was drunk and was grunting like an animal. I’ve become a beast myself. Ever since I remember, I always had this fantasy, a dream or whatever it is. To look someone in the eye and punch him right in his face. That guy was under me and there I was, sitting on him and looking into his eyes that were trying to pierce right through me and they glittered under the moon light. His beard and hair were wet with all the sweat. In the midst of the rattle and the beastly fighting, I grabbed a stone in my hand and punched the man right in his face looking into his eyes. For a second, flashes of my dad came rushing into my head. I wondered if it was my dad who killed my mom. I wasn’t sure and I would never know. The touch of his face against my fist wrapped around a stone felt as if I was hitting the ground. I knew my hand would bleed after that but I didn’t stop punching him. I was in a rage and kept punching his face again and again making sure I didn’t take my eyes of him. He however closed his eyes after a few punches and later his face lost its shape after his jaw broke spilling his warm blood all over me.

I fell on the ground exhausted and closed my eyes. I could listen to people as they gathered around us. I wasn’t sure if they looked at me or the man I just killed but I was sure they took his body away and left me right in the middle of that farm. I felt relieved for some reason and kept picturing the look on his face when I took the first blow right on his nose before it broke. The silent night turned arrogant as I began to laugh out loudly. When I opened my eyes, I saw the people running away from me thinking that I’ve probably gone mad but the fact was that I was happy. Happy, because I knew that I broke the shell and came out free and alive. A few minutes later, I stopped laughing as tears began to roll down my face which was already covered in blood. For the first time, I cried for the loss of my parents. I cried for my mother whom I’ve never seen in my life. I cried for my dad who was an animal just like me but was my father nonetheless. I cried because I was free from myself. I cried because I knew that I could live again.

Disclaimer: Reference to a person living is intentional. I know there’s no way she’d read this so I am using the actual name. However, the entire story is made up…Sudhams

I took the liberty of holding her hand and  she didn’t seem to mind. Her palm felt cold and soft. I was shocked at my ability to hold a girl’s hand without panicking

Going to take a math test on a Sunday is like allowing somebody to peel out your fingernails with pliers. I had to wake up at 6 in the morning to get ready for the Exam. It’s not like the test is a life changing one or anything. But the deal with these intermediate colleges is they seem to make lists of everything and one list where your name is last might prove to be costly.

“I will be back by 6pm. Make sure you don’t mess up the house by the time I come back.” said my mom. She’s going to her parents house(my grandparent’s). she always went there on holidays. It’s a 2 hr drive from where we used to stay. The drive through the valley would be amazing and especially during this November.

“Hey mom…I was just thinking. Can I come with you to grandma’s house?” I said realizing that it was my one shot at skipping the test.

“Oh that would be lovely Aravind. It’s been ages since you last met them. Moreover I get bored driving all the way there alone.” She said. “But don’t you have a test today?”

“It’s ok mom. It’s just a weekend test. You can write me a permission letter.” I said making sure she won’t questions later.

Now we were on our way. My grandparents were both retired lectures and they lived alone only with Saroja, the maid. They were highly educated and respected in their locality. They live in this ancestral home of ours where my mom grew up. Actually I grew up there too along with all my cousins. It was this huge house with a frontyard where we used to play cricket. There’s a well in the back yard where we were prohibited to go as kids. It has been almost two years since I was there last time. Probably after my tenth class exams I guess.

“Don’t complain if you are bored. You can go explore the place but don’t sit around saying you’re bored.” my mom began giving the last minute instructions.

After the initial kisses and “How big you’ve become” statements from both my grandparents, I was left all by myself. My mom began chatting with them in the master bedroom in the first floor. I heard my grandpa saying something about the retired Police officer who has this big house right infront of ours. I came out and saw the building. It was big, not as big as ours but was modern and neatly designed.

It became clear during lunch that the Police man had a fight with grandpa regarding some Municipal water supply thing and they haven’t been talking ever since. My mother wanted to set things right as she knew them very well but my grandpa said that it wasn’t necessary.

“Those toys of yours are still in the store room Aravind.” My grandma said. “You can go play cricket.”

Yeah right, cricket. All by myself. My situation was pathetic but it was something that I chose. Much better than those people taking up the Math test in college.

I took the dusty rubber ball from the store room, and began playing with it in the front yard. It wasn’t exactly playing. I began to throw the ball at the wall and catch it when it bounced back.

Then I saw a girl, probably a year or two older than me talking with some kids from the balcony of the Policeman’s house. His granddaughter, I assumed. She then watched me trying to keep myself amused and later went inside.

I ran to the terrace and tried to take a clear look at her. Hiding behind the pillar, I tried to get a sneak peek inside her house. But the thing is, she never went inside. She was hiding behind the overhead tank on the terrace trying to look at me. Cleary she didn’t see me running up the stairs as she was looking at the yard. I stayed behind the pillar for awhile and took a clear look at her.

She was definitely a few years elder than me and was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt. Not really fair but had long and curly hair. She seemed to have a pair of sharp eyes but from almost 40ft away, I couldn’t really see.

When I finally stepped out from behind the pillar, she was taken by surprise. I looked at her and she came out behind the tank as if I caught her while stealing  candy from kids. I smiled at her as if to say hello and she returned it with a much cuter version.

“What?” I said.

“What, what?” she said. Those weren’t actually words. They were signs. There was no way she could hear what I was saying from where she was standing. Moreover I cannot shout as her Police grandpa would hear.

I shrugged with a smile and began walking down the stairs. She came down too. For the next one hour, it was all about me taking catches (with the ball and the wall) and her watching me from the balcony. Everytime I miss a catch, I’d look at her and she’d laugh. I even missed a few to see her smile. The thing about girls is that they always make me feel conscious of what I am doing and what I will do. When I know that a girl is looking at me, I do all sorts of crazy things that  normally wouldn’t.

May be it was because of the weather or the old music that grandpa played in his room, I started to like this girl.

“Aren’t you going to talk to us at all?” called my grandma bringing me some orange juice.

“Haha.. nothing like that grandma.” I took the glass and walked inside along with her, without looking at the girl.

When I came back an hour later, she wasn’t there. I ran up stairs to see if she was near the overhead tank, but she wasn’t. Oh boy… guess I pissed her off.

“Looking for someone?” I heard a sound. When I turned back, it was her, standing right infront of me. Just a few feet away. The thing is, there’s this house just beside my grandparent’s house. It was old and abandoned and both the houses are so close to each other that one can easily climb onto our terrace from that house.

“Ummm… yaaa…errrrr…..” I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m Anuradha. What’s your name?” she asked me without any hesitation. I am one of those guys who cannot talk to girls properly…atleast the good looking ones.

“Oh hi… I’m Aravind.” I replied trying to keep my cool. “So you jumped onto the terrace from that building?”

“Well yes, we do that often. Me and the kids, for the Lilies.” She said revealing as to who was taking away the lilies everyday since last Thursday(as grandma was complaining a while ago).

What seemed like an intrusion into my ancestral house became an invitation for spending some quality time. She was welcoming and very free to talk to. I began breaking out of my shell and actually started to talk to her.

We spoke there for about half an hour. We sat on the floor for a while and on the terrace wall for sometime. She was a college dropout. Her parents didn’t want her to study engineering following her poor performance in the entrance test. She didn’t mind that too. “I’m a free bird. I like to stay this way. I don’t want to go sit in a class and waste my time.” She said with a tone filled with ignorance but yet full of confidence. I told her about how I am preparing for my entrance tests and how I managed to skip the Math test to come here. She kept laughing the whole time. That’s one way girls have your attention all the time. They laugh and you stare.

We left by 4 in the evening and I could see her looking at the car from the balcony as we drove away. “Mom, I think we should celebrate Christmas with grandpa & grandma this time.” I said looking at the rear view mirror that suggested that Anuradha was nearer to me than what she appeared.

* * * * * * * * * *

I went to my grandparents house two times after that before Christmas. The first time I was there, Anuradha was busy with her relatives but managed to spend atleast one hour with me. We held hands while talking this time. Well, I took the liberty of holding her hand and she didn’t seem to mind. Her palm felt cold and soft. I was shocked at my ability to hold a girl’s hand without panicking. The second time, we went out to eat pani puri. I offered to get the medicines for my grandma as an excuse to go out, while Anu(that’s what I now call her) always had her reasons to leave the house.

“We’re planning to come here for Christmas this year. My dad said he’ll be busy with work but asked me and my mom to go.” I told her. “Will you be here then?”

“Ofcourse I would be. I love that Christmas magic in the air. The foggy mornings, the carols, the greeting cards. I love all of it.Especially the songs they sing at the church.” She said looking at the trees as we walked to the pani puri shop. She’s getting prettier each time I saw her.

“Will you get me  a Christmas present?” she asked me.

“Sure.” I said thinking for a second what I should get her. “What do you want?”

“Ummm… surprise me.” Now that’s not good. You cannot win in things like that. Surprising somebody is easy but doing it when they ask you to is really tough.

* * * * * * * * * *

Christmas in my grandparents house is never going to be silent and peaceful. There were nearly 25 people in the house belonging to three generations. Two of my aunts and their families were visiting too. That meant all my cousins were there and I had no time to spend with Anu. I was there with my mom two days before Christmas and the season’s magic already seemed to take control. The tree was already there and the house beautifully decorated.

“It’s the one festival that brings everyone together.” My grandpa used to say and True it was. Except in my case that is. I couldn’t meet Anu and the worst part is she was right infront of me smiling from the balcony. She was there most of the time during the first day(the day before Christmas). She watched me play cricket, she watched me decorate the Christmas tree, she watched me sit and talk with my relatives and I was sure she even saw me sleep under the stars in the front yard on Christmas Eve.

“Hey…heyy… wake up!!!” I heard her voice.

“What are you doing here?” I was startled. I looked at all the people sleeping beside me and was relieved nobody woke up. She jumped on to the terrace(as usual) and walked down the stairs.

“Let’s go onto the terrace.” She winked at me. My god this girl has some serious confidence issues. People would kill me if they knew what I was doing but nevertheless I followed her.

“What do you think you’re doing? You know what time it is?” I was scared like hell.

“Hmm.. it won’t take long. See I got you a present.” She took out a Santa Claus hat, the red velvet hat with a small white ball at the tip. Not something that I could use everyday but a cute gift.

“Wow, thanks. It’s really cute.” I wore it and she smiled. I could see her smile all night and yet I wouldn’t get bored. Especially with the sweater and the scarf, she was adorable. I wanted to hold her face in my arms. Her eyes glittered as she looked at me and asked

“Now where’s my gift?”

“It’s in my bag downstairs. You can’t expect me to keep it with me while slee…”

“Ya ya.. it’s alright. You can give it to me tomorrow.” She interrupted.

There was a silence for the next few seconds and both of us had nothing to say. We kept smiling at each other and sat on the terrace wall. We could see the stars(the paper-made stars with light bulbs inside) lit up in every house in the locality. That’s one thing I love about Christmas. For the next hour or so, we talked about Christmas celebrations in the family and the fight our grandpas were part of. We laughed a lot. It was one of those nights that you wish would never end. The stars above, the winter night, the cool wind carrying the Christmas joy, with a girl sitting beside me holding my hand. Christmas was never this special.

“Ok, I’ll have to go now. Give my gift tomorrow alright?” she said standing up still holding my hand.

“Can’t you stay a little longer?” I asked trying to make it sound more like an option rather than a request.

“I would love to but I can’t. This is way too much already.” She smiled. How can I let her go after that smile??

“Hmm ok then.” I stood up too.

“Merry Christmas Aravind.” She hugged me. Oh my god she hugged me. It was not like a cuddling kind of a hug that includes Love. It was just a casual goodnight hug, but I almost had a heart attack. Before I could wrap my hands around her, she let me go.

“Ok then goodnight.” and left casually jumping and climbing like an expert thief. I walked down to the yard and slept in my new Santa Claus hat.

* * * * * * * * * *

After the huge lunch on Christmas day, I walked on to the front yard trying to see if Anu was still there. But she was not.

“Aravind, are you done with packing your bag? We’ll be leaving in an hour.”My mom said. My dad called in the morning and asked us to make it early so we can catch a Christmas party at his friend’s house. I didn’t want to go but had no other option. If only I could meet her and give her my gift.

I walked inside the house and began stuffing the bag with my clothes. My mom was talking about the Policeman and the fight.

“It’s Christmas dad. There’s nothing wrong in sending some sweets and cake.” She tried talking him out of his anger.

All my thoughts were filled with Anu and the gift I wanted to give her so badly.

“Ok then. I guess there’s no harm in sweets and cake.” He finally said after an hour. I just finished packing my stuff.

“Aravind…come here.” My mom yelled.

“What? Why do you have to shout? I am right here.”

“Take these sweets and cake and give them to Anuradha in that house. She’s the granddaughter of the Police uncle. They’re still in the Church and she’s all  alone.” She said.

“What? How do you know she’s alone?” I enquired without the fear that I might sound anxious.

“I called them up and she told me. They might come in an hour but we can’t stay till then. Give her that and bring back the plates.” She said.

Is there anything more I could ask for? Unbelievable turn of events gave me an opportunity to go to Anu’s house where she’ll be all alone. I went straight to the main door and knocked. No one seemed to bother. I knocked again and this time I heard somebody walk towards the door. I stood back and managed to give a pose.

“Hello good afternoon… I’ve brought some Sweets, for an angel.” I said lifting the plates in my hand and winked.

“Ahaa?? What if angels don’t like sweets?” she laughed back at me rising her eyebrows. Is there anyway somebody cannot like her??

We went inside and I sat in the chair. She said that she somehow managed to stay back without going to the church so that we could meet. I asked her to give me back the plates as my mom wanted them back.

“Oh sure. Give me a minute I’ll empty them and give you.” And walked into the kitchen. I stood up and walked towards kitchen door where she was standing near the dining table trying to clean the plates. She was facing the other way.

“Was that your mom who called me over the phone?” she shouted thinking that I was in the living room. I didn’t answer and walked straight up to her and hugged her from behind. I had no clue what I was upto but I hugged her tight. It was definitely not a casual good bye hug. She didn’t say anything. There was absolute silence in the air and we could both hear our heartbeats.

I took out the CD I made for her and held it across her face.

“Don’t you want your gift?” I whispered in her ears still hugging her. She opened her eyes.

“I made a collection of the best Christmas Carols and songs of all time. Most of them are just instrumentals.”  she took it from my hand and smiled.

“That’s sweet.” she said in a low voice trying hard not to blush but failing miserably.

“Merry Christmas Anu.” I whispered in her ears, hugged her tightly one last time before letting go.

That drive home was the longest ever. I wore the Santa Claus hat and kept thinking about her. She didn’t have a mobile phone and neither did I. I wasn’t sure when I would be back as I’ll be busy with my exams. But that didn’t matter. As I looked out the window, I somehow knew no matter what, we’d meet again and there’s lot more to happen.

To be continued……. 😀 😀

As I went closer and stood by them, both the parents looked at me with a faint smile and at that point I fainted. I dropped unconscious right in the center of the church during a Sunday morning prayer… and yes God did nothing to stop.

“Arun” called out Vijaya. I was standing near the huge banyan tree in the yard. Knowing that it was almost 9 o clock, I ran towards Vijaya.

“It’s almost time for the church, go and meet Victoria ma’am.” she said reminding of my Sunday morning duty.

Vijaya and her husband Mohan took care of me after my mom decided to abandon me. She had her reasons though. A husband that left her for some other lady, a baby daughter to take care of, and yes no home to live in. I never complained about her. Father Emmanuel decided to take me in and allowed me to stay in the church compound with Mohan and Vijaya who took care of the church and its premises. “Saviors of the Savior” is what Father Emmanuel calls them.

I ran towards the huge hall behind the church where the Sunday school sessions usually took place. Being there, I had no other option except to oblige their orders and do as they say. But they were really nice people. They valued my existence, unlike my dad who saw me as a burden. I often wonder if I was the reason why he left mom.

“Good morning ma’am. How are you today?” I asked Victoria ma’am who was already in the hall talking with the kids who gathered around her. She was a school teacher by profession and a true Christian in person. She took the Sunday school sessions.

“Hi Arun. God bless. You look fine today. How’s your hand?”

“It’s fine ma’am. It will take some 3-4 weeks to get rid of the bandage though.” I said looking at the bandage wrapped around my left hand. It’s from the time my dad beat me up when I tried stopping him from throwing my mom out on the road.

“Ok good. Now go see if there any kids today in the church. It’s getting late. We’ll start with the session.” She said and began talking to Chintu, the youngest of all of the kids there and also the cutest. They are apparently from a wealthy family.

Sunday school in the church comprises of Bible reading, singing songs, storytelling. On Christmas Eve, I heard that there will be a play where the kids from the Sunday school will be given important roles to play depending on how regular you are to the school and how close your parents are to victoria ma’am. It was my job to go see if there are any new kids in the church and call them to attend the Sunday school.

As I stepped into the church building through the side door, it was almost full. Wealthy people all dressed up sat in the chairs and others who kind of looked like people from my locality sat on the carpet singing out aloud and clapping. I looked around for kids. There were always many who didn’t want to come to the Sunday school. Some just obliged hesitantly probably fearing that the Lord might get angry. Others just hide behind their moms who simply smile at how cute their children are.

There were hardly any kids this week. May be there were some exams coming soon. There will always be a season where kids stop coming to church and are more into studying for the exams. As soon as this season ends, there will be never before crowds as they come in groups for the Lord’s blessings before the exam day for doing well.

“The Sunday school is going to start. Do you want to come?” I asked a girl. I am seeing her for the first time. She was about my age but a lot more polished. I was sure that she went to some posh English medium school. I dropped out of school after my 5th class. My parents saw no point in making me go to school. I used to help Sampath baiyya run his garage before moving to the church compound.

“Sunday school? What will you do there?” she asked me genuinely interested. Before I could answer, her mom interfered and asked her to go along and attend the Sunday school. The girl politely obliged the command. I showed her the way and went on my hunt.

Just as I was coming out, I saw a family enter the church. They were wealthy, obvious from the clothes they wore. Probably might’ve parked their car somewhere nearby. The father was muscular and tall whereas the mother was young and pretty. Their son walked in-between both of them holding his dad’s hand. He looked around 11 or 12, some two three years younger than me.

“You need to hurry if you want to make it in time to the Sunday school.” I told the kid walking towards them.

The family didn’t notice me watching them and so were taken aback.

“Oh Sunday school? You want to go with him Abhi?” asked the dad with a smile quite pleased with what I said.

“Where is it?” the mother asked me as if I asked their son to take him to a movie or something.

“Right behind the church ma’am. In the hall. Victoria ma’am asked me to call any kids who would be interested.” I said being as polite as possible. I noticed her eyes bulging out, kind of how my mom’s eyes used to be. She always cried herself to sleep. I wondered if this lady cries a lot too. The man seems to be a good person, not at all like my dad.

“Let’s go then.” said the boy whose name I now came to know as Abhi.

“It’s in the hall behind the church. Go ahead.” I showed him the way.

“Aren’t you coming?” asked Abhi looking at me as if I asked him to go to some jail.

I looked at him and couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll see if anybody else is interested in coming.  You go ahead.”

“Why don’t we both search so you’ll have less work.”The idea seemed alright. His parents smiled at each other and left his hand, only after giving him a kiss each. I felt out of place but pretended as if I was searching for others.

After some 15 minutes of searching, we both were able to find three uninterested children and one angry parent who drove us away as if we just asked for his wallet.

“I’m dying.” Abhi said looking down as we began walking to the Sunday school.

“Hmmm… it’s alright. I never find more than 3 kids.” I said as if I was some kind of expert in this profession and he was an amateur.

“No, not about that. I am really dying. I have some kind of disease that kills people no matter what they do.” He said now looking at me.

I had no idea how to react to that, especially with someone who I’ve just met. He didn’t seem to be upset or atleast it was his tone that kept still without shaking when he spoke about his own death. I kept quiet and just looked at the ground without looking at him and said

“Ohh…”

“Yes, that’s why my parents brought me here today. We moved in here to my dad’s ancestral home for a few weeks so that I can die peacefully. That’s what the doctor said.” Abhi said as if he was just talking about his school. Now that gave me something to talk about.

“So you don’t go to school then?” I asked not sure why. But felt glad I atleast spoke with this kid.

“No. I used to, but my parents decided to make me drop it as they wanted me to be with them. I miss school though. I love the stories that my teachers tell. Especially my English teacher.” He said. Without having any clue why, we both began walking towards the yard instead of going to the Sunday school hall.

We spoke for about 45 minutes. He spoke with his eyes wide open. He is very fair and had brown colored eyes. Probably would grow up to be handsome man like his father I thought. I had nothing to say to him about my family and life as I am not proud of it. He spoke about his school in the big city and also how much he is missing it.

“Don’t you want to go and pray in the church?” I asked him. Afterall I am living in the church and I need to make sure more people offer their prayers.

“No I don’t want to. I don’t see any point.” He said bluntly.

“What? It’s the Lord’s church. He can make miracles happen.” I said remembering a few lines that Father Emmanuel told me few weeks back.

“Haha don’t be silly Arun. You know those things don’t exist.” He said as if it’s quite obvious. For a moment I remembered my mom being beaten up for one last time and my dad leaving the house.

“Yes they do happen. You need to have faith.” I said wondering if I’ll grow up to become a pastor myself.

“I don’t know all that Arun. I just come here because that is what my parents what. I’d rather read my Trojan War textbook than that Bible which makes no sense to me.”Now that was something that literally shook me. I wanted to close his mouth with my bare hands as I feared the lord would hear him and punish him. But a second later, realized that what else the lord can do to punish him. He is going to die anyway. We walked a little further and sat under the shade of the banyan tree.

“What is that book? Is it that interesting?” I asked trying to take the conversation away from the concept of faith and God. I never really found myself being religious. But I never thought of reasons for not being religious either. I guess that’s what most of the people do. They grow up listening to things the Bible say and adopt to practice them. I found nothing wrong in doing the exact same.

 “You don’t know about the Trojan war? It’s only the coolest awesome-est book ever!!” he said making sure that I realized what blunder I made in announcing my ignorance. Then I told him about how I had to drop out from the school and had to work in the garage and finally moved here into the church compound.

“Hmm… you seem to have lot of the Lord’s miracles in your own life I see.” He said trying to be as sarcastic as possible. I didn’t feel offended and instead laughed at how spontaneous he is.
Abhi was younger to me by two years in age. But considering that he went to school till recently, he is older/smarter than me by atleast 3 years. But I am street smart I thought. What else can one become when he is forced to work in a garage when he was 12 years old? I was forced to become street smart.

Abhi gave me some insight about the Trojan War book and told me how much he missed those lessons. He told me that he had to miss the lessons as he quit the school right in the middle of the term. He seemed to be more worried about not being able to finish the story than about dying.

“Why don’t you read it yourself? Or ask your mom and dad to read it for you.”

“Yes I could but it’s not the same. They know the story already. I need to do it with people who can share the sense of suspense and wonder along with me. Imagine a class with 48 members listening to our teacher read out the story. It used to so much fun.” He said with a spark in his eye.

I was more than willing to volunteer but definitely not as a favor or a service to mankind. It was out of pure curiosity. I wanted to read that book. So we decided that we could start reading it when he comes back to the church the next Sunday. We could meet at the exact same spot and could read it without anybody complaining. Afterall it’s not the school.

Abhi left the church after the session is over. I didn’t say goodbye or anything. He just walked away waving at their parents who greeted him more kisses. I felt bad for them. I know your parents leaving you when you’re 15 is tough but watching your 13 year old kid die is something that even a guy like me found unbearable.

* * * * * * * * * *

The week was never this slow. I grew restless by Friday and often shouted at Vijaya who kept giving me instructions as how to clean the church floor. I never bothered to pray or anything. I waited for Sunday like never before. As there was probably no way it could skip away, it’s finally Sunday again.

“So you brought the book?” I asked as soon as we were on the way to our new ‘Sunday school’, means the banyan tree.

“Yes here it is. I had to convince my mom. She wants me to read the bible instead.” Abhi said.  He seemed a little weak today or it was just me trying to digest the fact that he was going to die soon.

“Hmmm… you know I didn’t pray even once the entire week.” I said kind of hoping that he would say that’s alright and I was not disappointed.

“It’s alright Arun. That’s what I said, do it if you really feel like doing it. Not because somebody wants you to. Right now, we feel like reading this story so shall we begin?” he said sounding a millions years older than his age. Are all the people who are going to die this thoughtful? I wondered.

“I will read one chapter aloud and then you read the next chapter. That way we both get to read it and both of us will know the story as well.” He told his plan which was logical and perfect. So began the Trojan War. He didn’t mind starting from the beginning for me. As we reached the third chapter, I realized why Abhi loves this so much. It was a story of great heroes who fought for dignity.

There were people who were immortal by birth and others who decided to fight the war to become immortal even after death. I infact began comparing both of us with the characters from the story. Before we could finish the fourth chapter, the church ended and so Abhi had to leave. But he promised that he’d be back early next Sunday so that we could read atleast 6 chapters.

* * * * * * * * * *

That week was rather quick. On two nights I remember dreaming about being Ulysses, the Greek warrior who was known for his wisdom and leadership. Abhi was Achilles who was the greatest warrior of the lands and cannot be killed. He knew that fighting the war would bring about his death but still decides to do it because his glory would be told as stories for centuries to come. He had a weak point though. He can only be killed when shot at his heel. But I was kind of hoping he wouldn’t die as he was a great warrior and he has the wise Ulysses with him. I often woke up thinking that I still have the armor as they say in the story.

The next couple of weeks were exciting as well. The story unfolded itself with twists and turns and saw Achilles being destructive like a storm. Ulysses didn’t have much to do but that didn’t bother me as I loved reading about Achilles. He was young and as full of life as Abhi. I also agreed rather readily when he said he wants to read a few chapters all by himself. I enjoyed listening to him read and imagine both of us in those characters.

 

“I want to ask you something Abhi but you shouldn’t feel bad.” I made myself clear when he was leaving the ‘Sunday school’ on the forth Sunday.

“Hmm… you want to know how long I am going to live don’t you?” he said with his voice breaking probably for the first time.

“Well, yes but I don’t want you to feel bad about it. So sorry.” I apologized for being so inhuman. How could I ask somebody that question especially when he is just a little kid who is 13 years old? I guess I thought Achilles would answer anything as he was strong.

“I hope I live atleast till Achilles wins the war for the Greeks.” He said with a faint smile.

“You can always read the book yourself at home and finish it Abhi.” I said being reasonable. It’s hard counting these things in weeks.

“What? You don’t think I could make it till then?” he said laughing. “I bet Achilles won’t give up fighting till he gets what he wants.” He raised his shirt collar when he said Achilles.

“Haha… and you have Ulysses with you.” I said winking at him and realized that it was the first time I laughed after a long time.

This week particularly was really slow, probably because of the rains. Rain made the church grow old and the huge yard became muddy. I wondered where we would sit to read the book on Sunday. But on Friday Mohan called me to clean up the church hall as there was going to be some prayer there in the afternoon. I did as he told, often holding the broom as if it was a sword. I finished cleaning and thought about the “Sunday school.” I could finish cleaning this hall and later go clean up that as well. If it was going to rain on Saturday as well, I need to have a shelter too. I took out some big old plastic bags that Mohan uses to get flowers for the church and went to the banyan tree. It took almost six hours for me to finish the shelter and it looked perfect. No rain could wash that away.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was one of those Sundays that the kids come to pray for their exams. Father Emmanuel told me that they get the maximum funds during this period often beating the Christmas and New Year season. It rained heavily the previous night but I saw the shelter still intact. Satisfied at myself, I walked towards the church to call the kids to the real Sunday school (that was my regular job). I thought of the first day that I met Abhi. How he told me he was going to die and how he finally became my Achilles.

Rain poured down suddenly and everybody ran inside the church. Few kids ran into the Sunday school hall and I ran towards the shelter that I made myself for our own Sunday school. I waited there for Abhi but he didn’t come. It was raining heavily so I thought his parents didn’t want him to go outside. I felt like a fool making the shelter. Sunday rain washed away the plans and even the wise Ulysses couldn’t control his disappointment. I tore down the shelter that evening. I dreamt of my father that night beating up my mother and breaking my arm. I woke up suddenly feeling a chill up my spine. I was sweating thoroughly and could feel my heart beat in my head.

Rains didn’t stop till Thursday the next week. By Saturday it was bright and sunny. Students came in groups to thank the Lord as they obviously did well in their exams. That seemed strange to me as they were the ones who studied and wrote the exams. The Lord didn’t do anything. If anybody should know, it’s me as I live right in the house of the lord and I’ve seen him do nothing. Nothing to stop the rain, nothing to let Abhi read the book with me, nothing to stop my dad from leaving my mom, nothing at all.

I went inside trying to find kids as usual and hoping that Abhi would be coming soon. Finding none, I turned to go back to leave. Right then, I heard Father Emmanuel talking with Abhi’s parents. He was not with them. The obvious struck me like thunder but I preferred to stay ignorant. I ran out to see the shelter if Abhi was there waiting for me but he’s not. Blood began rushing across my face and I found it difficult to stand.

I was afraid my Achilles is dead.

We haven’t even finished the story yet. He must see Achilles defeat the Trojans. I walked to meet his parents who were talking to Father Emmanuel about something that seemed serious. They gave him some envelopes that seemed to contain money. I searched behind his dad to see if Abhi was standing there holding his hand like when I saw him the first time. He wasn’t there. As I went closer and stood by them, both the parents looked at me with a faint smile and at that point I fainted. I dropped unconscious right in the center of the church during a Sunday morning prayer… and yes God did nothing to stop.

When I woke up, I was in my bed in Mohan’s house. Vijaya sat beside me.

“Are you alright? Want some water?” she offered me some.

“What happened to Abhi?” I asked not sure why. She had no idea who he was.

“Mohan!!” she yelled out calling her husband who was out doing some chores.

I ran inside the church and noticed the prayer was over. Father Emmanuel sat alone reading the bible.

“I thought you knew Arun.” he said noticing me coming towards him.

I didn’t say anything.

“It happened last Friday. I thought you knew as Mohan told me you were the one who cleaned the hall for the funeral prayer.” Father continued having no idea his words are planting spears in my throat.

“His parents wanted to give away his old stuff to some orphanage and they packed a box for you too. They knew their child wasn’t going to the Sunday school but was just reading a book with a newly found friend.” He went inside and brought a small box. I knew what I’d find inside but I didn’t want to see it.

“Take it Arun. Life can treat you harsh sometimes. You of all should know how to deal with things like this.” He said in a reassuring tone.

“Yes sir. I know I should be capable of dealing with things like this. But that doesn’t mean that things like this should happen to me.” I ran as fast as I could out of the church compound. The heavy box seemed lighter as I ran for atleast half an hour before falling dead exhausted on the road side pavement.

I opened the box and took out the one thing that I didn’t want to see. I began reading the rest of the story. I felt my Achilles sitting beside me looking at me as I struggled reading the complex English words. I couldn’t go past the 15th chapter as Achilles gets killed. Yes, the rivals find his weak spot and kill him with a single arrow. The end of Achilles was that simple. I closed the book as I didn’t want to read it further. I didn’t care if they win. I didn’t bother what Ulysses would do now knowing that Achilles is no longer alive.

For a second I thought what would’ve happened if Abhi knew Achilles would die. That would shatter him. He knew he was going to die but he wanted Achilles to live and finish the Trojan War. May be this was better for him I thought. I wanted him back badly but I knew this was best for him. He couldn’t handle the death of Achilles. But I could surely deal with the death of my Achilles as I know he’ll be remembered. He wanted to be immortal and he surely will be.
I sat there for another half an hour and then decided to finish the book.

I went on to read about what Ulysses does after the death of Achilles and how his wisdom finally won the Greeks their Victory in the Trojan War. I felt kind of pleased at the end knowing that even without Achilles, Ulysses managed to carry on and finally win the War. I smiled and looked at the box that contained some clothes of Abhi, some books and few toys as well. I kept the book inside the box and stood up.

Imagining myself as the wise Ulysses who just won the Trojan War without Achilles, I began walking back to the Church where Vijaya and Mohan would be waiting for me.