She - Part I

The early morning breeze fluttered the little hair on her rather bald head. It was funny, yet cute. She looked fresh - her cheeks tender and pink, highlighting the veins that ran within them. With a fine line of dark curled hair, her eyelids enveloped her eyes, like an orange peel covering the ripe fruit beneath. Her lips – rosy and thin, further accentuated her fair complexion. God had sent her with lipstick for a lifetime, he thought. Except for the rhythmic movement of her chest and the flaring of her tiny nostrils, she didn’t move a muscle. The four fingers on either palm were locked around her thumb, showing off her already overgrown fragile nails. She was more than comfortably cuddled into the bedding. After all, it was stitched out of her mother’s old sari.

He watched her, adoring the magic that the early morning rays had on her, or rather, vice versa. He wondered what she would possibly be dreaming. Of fairies? Gods with flowers? Clowns? Or maybe, just maybe, him.

He wanted to ask her, what it was, that she was seeing with her eyes closed.

Contemplating if he wanted her to be awake or sleeping, he gently swayed the cradle. She twitched at the movement, rubbing her nose with the back of her palm and sinking back into her comfort zone. He pulled back his hand, guilty of having disturbed her. He stopped breathing for a moment, lest she should wake up again.

He didn’t know what to do. He had never been this close to a baby. Never. Ever. Now he was left with no choice. It was but his daughter. He wanted nothing to hurt her. Not even the wind. A pang of belongingness ran like a gush of adrenaline.

Sitting back on the chair, he watched her, waiting to be noticed. Silent and patient.

To be continued...

Habits Die Hard

“Don’t bother mom. I’ll make the sandwiches myself.” He said, checking his watch.

Having 20 minutes to spare before his college bus was to arrive, he sat on the couch with the newspaper on the tea table. Glancing through the headlines, he began to evenly spread butter across the slice of bread. He made sure that every inch of bread had a generous spread of butter – a habit he imbibed from his mother. To him, she was the epitome of perfection and he felt relieved to have got her genes passed down to him rather than the ‘clumsy’ genes of his father.

Biting down the last bit of bread, he folded the paper and placed it under the tea table. He had 7 minutes left to catch the bus. This was the very part of the day he hated – leaving his mom behind at home and going to college. He slid back into the couch and stared at his mother. She smiled back at him – curled thin lips through which peeped a row of shiny teeth and eyes glowing with mischief, as they cast three fine lines from the corner that faded into her temple – the only visible sign of her age.

Her smile was magical and eternal.

Moving closer, he looked deeper into her eyes. He thought he saw a bead of tear building up in those tiny eyes of hers, possibly even faking the smile. Ready to leave, he finally whispered, “I love you and am going to miss you mom.”

Two years had passed since he had helplessly succumbed to let her sleep forever, but that wouldn’t change him one bit.

Black and White

Roshan sat on the tall chair and waited for instructions.

“Ok Roshan! Here we go. Read aloud each alphabet on this board. Line-by-line.” said the doctor in a friendly tone.

“P F W K C N S Q X D Y U…” He read along with no sign of trouble. However, slowly the letters appeared smaller with every other line. While he was half-way through the struggle to deciphering the last word in the 5^th line, the doctor spoke –

“That’s good! Now….. look at this. What number do you see?”

“18” said Roshan instantly.

“And this one.” the doctor continued.

“27” he said, even quicker.

Taking out the last plate in the stack, the doctor asked, “How about this last one?”

Roshan stared into the card, unable to notice anything but differentially sized green circles. He looked closer. Still nothing.

“It’s got no number. Just green circles.” he said, curling the corner of his lips into a you-can’t-trick-me-boss kind of smile.

“You really can’t identify any number Roshan?” the doctor questioned again, drawing his eyebrows together and staring straight into his eyes. Roshan was the first patient in his 2 years of private practice who had such wonderful eyes – sparkling and blue.

“Nopes.” He replied, this time more confident than the previous.

“Let me look at your eyes. Sit erect on this chair and look into this eyepiece.” the doctor said, moving over to the other end of the machine and seating himself on a high raised chair.

Bright rays of light flashed right into Roshan’s lens. It took him a few seconds before he could get accustomed to such high intensity of light. The doctor examined him for a minute in silence and finally broke the silence –

“I suspect you have colour blindness Roshan. Have you ever noticed?”

“Dammit!” Roshan blurted out, running his fingers through the neatly cropped hair. Getting himself back together, he continued bluntly -

“No. I havnt’t.”

The doctor explained to him that it is most certainly genetic (inherited from his father). After discussing the possible solutions, Roshan walked out of the consultation room – with one big shattered dream.

Later that evening, Roshan sat at the balcony, staring into the open star studded sky – it was no less beautiful than a neat blanket spread with tiny specks of glittering crystals. This was the first instance in a really long time that he was quiet. The silence echoing from him was too unusual for an energetic and enthusiastic guy like him.

As he was watching an airplane fly past the dark sky, his brother walked in from behind and said –

“Hey! Apart from the good brains, I heard dad gave you some bad genes as well! Well you pilot wannabe, get over it!”

Anger gushed right from the bottom of Roshan’s stomach. Without turning back to look into his brother, Roshan shouted -

“Shut up and get lost before I bang your head! A big head with no brains is all you’ve got.”

His brother stood there giggling.

Unable to bear it any longer, Roshan spun around on his chair, pointed his index finger to his eyes and said sternly,

“He gave me amazing blue eyes! You didn’t manage even that!”

His brother fled out of the room, leaving Roshan to stare into an identical pair of blue eyes – only that they looked remorseful.

Once upon a time...

I waited for my clock to strike 6, wanting to rush back home and catch my favourite 7pm show on NBC. Today would have been just-another-day in my life if not for her.

There she was, near the parking lot. I walked past her, my head straight, trying to catch a glimpse of her through the corner of my eyes. I walked in a manner I very rarely do - quick long steps, looking hurried. Was it because I feared that she might hear my heart pounding loud? Or did I fear that I might blurt out to her what might one day be the inevitable words from my mouth? Or was this just not the right moment to let her know that I knew not of a world that existed beyond her?

I strode to my car as fast as I could and opened the door to the back seat to put my laptop bag. My heart still throbbed, sending pulses of fear to my entire body. And then it happened. While I was bent down to clean up the back seat and safely keep my bag, I felt a hand rest on my shoulder. Almost thrown off the ground, I found myself staring at her – those beautiful sparkling eyes that for the first time reflected mine.

“Happy Valentines Day Raj!” She said shyly, her cheeks turning pink.

“Hey! Thank you Roshni! Wish you the same. I wanted to come over myself to wish u!” I said, carefully placing each of my words.

“Why didn’t you then?” She asked me, like a kid questioning her father.

“Hmm… I don’t know… I didn’t know how you would take it.” I said, slowly.

“Why? What’s wrong?” She emphasized, as if cajoling me into getting those safely-locked-up-words out of the mouth.

“Welll.. you are a ggrreat friend.. anddd I didn’t want to spoil things between us. Sooo yeah.” I stammered.

She looked at me, right through my eyes. It felt like she was scanning my heart to catch a glimpse of those 3 words that were so strongly etched and hidden in one corner. Those 3 words that I had for 2 years now saved - just for her.

“Why do you think what I think Raj?" she asked me, out-of-the-blue, sounding naughty and affirmative.

“Because I think the same.” I said, with a confidence I never knew I would have in front of her.

“Hehe! Well then, why this hide-and-seek?” She asked me.

The last place that I had imagined having the conversation of my lifetime was my office parking area. It seemed a perfectly strange place to propose to the woman of my life. Finally, deciding that I would not get a better opportunity, I opened my mouth and uttered those words that shall ever haunt me-

“So, is it a yes or a get out?”

My heart raced at a pace it never has since I was born. My world swirled.

“Does waiting for one person for 2 years mean a get out?” she retorted, casually.

Oh God! Who the heck would reply like that for a proposal? I hated the way she always had to make things so complex. Can’t we just break it and go bang – ‘Look-!-This-is-what-I-think-about-you’ and get done with it?

Before I could take my anger any further, my heart was now throbbing with excitement and swarmed with happiness. I wanted to kneel down right there and tell her how much I loved her. I wanted to go atop the tallest building in the city and shout to the world that she loves me too. I had always thought its Bollywood that comes up with such fantasizing ideas of being love struck, but that day, each of my own criticisms backfired.

While I stood floating on cloud nine, gaping at her and still trying to ask myself if what was happening was indeed happening, she stole me of that one ultimate chance of a lifetime.

“I love you Raj.” She said, in a plain soft tone. The words touched my heart before they reached my ears.

“I love you Roshni.” I said. My eyes felt warm. I wanted to cry – cry on her lap.

We stood there, too excited to talk, relishing the new dimension of silence that prevailed between us – a silence filled with meaning, a thousand words, a million symphonies and endless love.

Finally, she broke the silence and asked me to take her out.

“Somewhere. Anywhere.” she said, like a kid. I began to love her more for that innocence.

I opened the front door of my car and offered to her the seat that was meant specially for her. I took out a small poster from the dashboard and stuck it on the rear glass of my car. It was a poster that I had bought in a car accessories store almost 3 years ago. I had saved it for that one day – the one day which I had no idea when to anticipate. I started my car, for that ‘somewhere-anywhere’ that she wanted to go.

Finally, with the two of us, my car rolled out of the parking lot, gleaming with the words, “Princess on Board” at the back.

P.S.: Happy Valentine's day :)