An Experiment With Loss

She closed the front door firmly, but not before a "Come a little earlier tomorrow, we have to go out." She walked towards the guest room that doubled as the computer room. The small house did not offer much in walking as an exercise. She turned on the computer, ambled to the window, stood watching the street below while it fired up. It was just 10 am and the summer sun was glaring back at her in all his glory. She squinted painfully, before closing the lace curtains.

Sitting on the slide back chair, she was soon lost to the world around her. As she opened her inbox to check the mails, thought she heard a soft voice whispering. Dismissing it as the by product of an over active imagination, turned her attention to a forwarded joke mail and chuckled quietly as she read through it. There was the voice again. It was steadily yet softly humming in a rhythm. She recognised the faint echoes of her name. Someone was calling out to her, but an unfamiliar voice, not one you could identify at first hearing. 

'Sounds like the noise is coming from the front door, maybe, the bell isn't working...but why didn't they knock on the wood?'

Grumpily got up, as she neared a particular doorway, it become obvious that the sound emanated from in there. She peeped in cautiously, 'What if it was a stalker?'

 The scene before her was a stuff of dreams. The table was occupied and looked inviting. She stepped in the room and glanced at them all. They looked back at her, bright and attractive.

 Running her fingers through her unkempt hair, her eyes and heart aglow, she silently argued,

"One more day wouldn't make that much of a difference, would it?

"It will not, but that is not the issue here!'

'What is?'

'Accountability!'

'Go away, won't you?'

'Not this time, not for a long time. Get over yourself. I am here to stay.'

Sighing, she made to move, when the soft voice from before hummed again. It came from the left side of the table, she noted absently. The voice suddenly went quiet as newer ones that had been silent were now gaining momentum, whispering pleasant entreaties. Enticing words that appealed to a particular emotion far more than to the others were being uttered from all corners. The whispers soon grew louder, now clamouring for her undivided attention.

Some solicited her presence openly displaying their best qualities. They preened and pouted, reminding her of her latest zoo visit. He had been strutting around, showing off his colourful feathers much like these. They were obviously for ones with expensive tastes with snobby airs.

 Two of the group watched the commotion with detachment bordering on amusement. They needed no extra charms or marketing skills to attract, secure in the knowledge of her servitude.

"She is addicted to us, all right." the creamy tones remarked, catching his reflection.

"Quite right, if the perky eyes are anything to go by. But, admit it brother, she prefers me to you.” retorted the powdery voice cracking his knuckles in boredom.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Honestly you make me laugh. Not a day goes by without her wistful glances at me, where you are ignored for weeks together." whistling in contentment.

"Only glances" smirking, "It's this dude she reaches for with her delicate fingers, when she needs a shoulder to cry on...'" before immersing himself in pleasant day dreams.

She was bemused, unsure when someone else who had been watching this banter with growing irritation, butted right in. 

"Stop your vain glory, insolent fools! One of these, I am going too..." the fourth, much older voice was interrupted as a fight broke out.

She stood shell shocked, unable to react, amazed that all this drama was for her humble self.

"Move over, you greasy son of a cow!" ordered the dark one with a fragrance to die for...

'He tasted heavenly too.' 

The greasy son not to be outdone pitched himself firmly in the way. In a voice dripping with disdain "Mister Greasy keeps her breezy on those lonely nights, you leave her by."

The round bellied said wisely, "Meet her comforter on all days of the year. No one else is dearer to her."

"Why don't we just ask her?" the soft voice from earlier spoke, now seated rather uncomfortably on the table top.

"Not a bright idea, this new one of yours." the rest sneered.

The gentle one retreated, beaten again, a score of zero to six. 

She felt a stab of pity for him, for he was one of her favourites. She rubbed her eyes repeatedly, that had the ones at the table mighty concerned.

'Was she ill? That would spell disaster.'

'Was she in a bad mood?’ the dark one sure hoped so, for he would become the chosen one for today.

'If she is unhappy, I stand a chance' the beaten one's face perked up with this happy thought.

She looked at them all for what seemed like eternity, clenching and unclenching her fists.

'This can't be happening'

'It is and will get worse' smug tones proclaimed.

'Make them leave!' she begged.

'Only you can. Use your power of discretion.'  then faded away.

The internal conflict resolved, she gave them an accusatory look. There was guilt and longing mixed in too.

Poking through the wooden cabinet by the table yielded the usual suspects. She picked up the manual from the seat and sat down near them. Adding a glass of skim milk to the bowl of muesli, sprinkling it generously with pomegranates, she ate in silence and mild frustration, reading the instructions.

The soft voice, hurt and thus emboldened, openly cried 

"What went wrong in our friendship? I stood by you..." rudely interrupted by

"We all did, for over a decade, through thick and thin, and this is the thanks we get?"

She munched on, head down, struggling to articulate her thoughts. She flipped through the manual in her hand and finally decided to end the game once and for all.

"Yes, I appreciate what you did for me. The highs and feeling of being loved you fostered in me."

Pausing, 'Had she finally lost her mind' then continuing,

"But I hate, really do, the other gifts you have bestowed on me."

"What other gifts? All our gifts are good!" they screamed in unison.

"These tyres on my stomach which had me resembling a bleached whale at last week’s party. Not forgetting the scary proximity of my David and that flirty, size four Kim."

 Then with wishful moaning, “He has promised me a solitaire if I lay off ...”

 The breakfast over, she dumped the deadly seven, one by one into the garbage can... apologising over and over again.

She had passed the first test, the one set by the Food Addicts Anonymous. Heaving sigh of relief...if only, she didn't suffer a relapse the third time!

wc 1163

Forgotten Tales Series 1

A short Summary : This is a series of stories on "the ordinary women" whose lives are/were interconnected, some more - some less....they are based on one or more events that affected/changed their lives...

The stories are true as far as the basic plot  goes....the rest of the wordplay is the author's portrayal....

Apologies to any one who finds her story here....

A Blow From The Past 

She stood on the long corridor undecided, a vacant stare at nothing in particular. Totally oblivious to the glances of the ladies passing her by which, would have on any other day infuriated her.....not even the activities on the busy street below caught her attention. It was the fourth day of her stay here and she was already regretting it. The impulsive act that had led her to her current situation...standing outside dingy, dim rooms and surrounded by noisy, nosy neighbours.

Home seemed bigger all of a sudden....She would be sipping her tumbler of flavoured milk before beginning her late afternoon chores. Her duties varied from day to day, most days involved drying clothes in the backyard before going to school, folding them neatly on returning, pestle and mortar grinding of coffee powder and other ingredients needed for the meal in the evening. On other days helping the ladies of the house take stock of and arrange the groceries in the store room, baby sitting her younger siblings and cousins. Though the work was monotonous and tiring, she took pride in a job well done. Home that meant siblings and cousins who lived under the same roof with whom she shared many happy moments, who would miss her. Chatting and sharing a laugh with friends who walked the 3 kms to school and back with her. Tears rolled down silently at the thought of not seeing them again, defeated, she blew her nose noisily and went back to staring.

Whilst lost in these thoughts she spied the figures approaching the chawl (a large tenement house) that seemed hauntingly familiar...One of them with drooping shoulders and a dazed gait, walking at some distance behind the others was the one she was well acquainted with. The two who comprised the middle of the little group wore gritty expressions. They were led by a scowling policeman in mufti (without the uniform), instantly recognisable. He had, after all, been her neighbour for the past few days. He must have been the one who had gotten in touch with them. He had displayed scepticism at the story on her sudden appearance at Vivek’s place.

He had turned up at dinner on her second day there. Vivek told her that it was his usual routine when his sister was around. The orphans looked on him as their father figure with their maternal uncle away for more than six months in a year, on the merchant ship that he worked in. He had mistaken her for Vivek’s sister as her back was turned to the flimsy curtain that hung on the doorway. She was busy, preparing the meagre meal in the square that served as the kitchen... when he called out.

“Sureka, when did you come?”
She had turned, startled by the sudden voice, almost dropping the ladle. Vivek had come out running of the small room on the right that served as the bedroom.
“Who is she, haven’t seen her before?” Constable Vel asked curiously.
“A distant relative, her parents are in the village, she wanted to see one of the film shooting here.”
“A runaway or did her parents really give her permission?”
“They were tired of her constant pestering and sent her hoping her curiosity will be satisfied.” He tried to sound convincing, lying not really his forte.
While Vivek kept silent throughout the meal. Vel subtly asked her questions on her life, which she tried to answer based on her annual vacation to her ancestral village.

As she recollected that fateful day, instead of fear, she felt relieved on seeing the two grim faced men she had known for as long as she could remember. She would have shuddered in their presence in normal circumstances. She felt a pang of guilt and remorse at the sad face that lagged behind. But the 16 year old have enough of the adventure ....she wanted to go home....”Would they take her back or not?” she wondered pensively. Her Uncle was the one to approach her, her father having stayed back with Vel.....terse words uttered with a curt glance in her direction "Gather your belongings and come down in 10 minutes!" She looked around the room, nothing much to pack except her old school bag and uniform. The clothes that she wore had been bought by him. Quickly putting together everything, she ran down the steps three at a time....halted momentarily at the first landing when she saw Vivek’s forlorn gaze.

He worked it the bookstore near her school to fund his college education and had found her crying outside the shop one day. She had lost the money given to buy a new notebook and had been afraid of being scolded by the teacher and her father alike. He had taken pity on her, having seen her pass by almost every day for the past two years. He bought her a book out of his account, which she accepted gratefully. She promised to pay back when she had enough pocket money saved. A few casual conversations turned into a tentative friendship. She stopped by the shop every now and then as there were very few customers at that particular time, the owner turning up only in the mornings. Her two best friends waited patiently, often teasing her on the journey back home.

She started lying to family members, telling them she was out visiting friends when she met him secretly in the nearby unused building that no one visited. He would talk about his dreams for himself and his sister, about their idyllic life when his parents, small landowners in the nearby village were still alive. They had died in bus accident while returning from a wedding. He had been 12 and had to mature overnight. She spoke of her family, the restrictions, her lack of interest in studies, her skill at painting which was largely overlooked as a frivolous pastime. He encouraged her to continue painting on seeing a few watercolours, introduced her to a whole new world of modern music and books while she admired his quiet intelligence and his endurance. Time flew by when they were together as they discussed their dreams and aspirations

She had often felt isolated; a lonely, eldest child. He had befriended her, made her feel wanted, worthy. But she realised it was not enough....running away had been a necessity then....yet another failed test result meant beatings and punishment. He had been there then, bringing her to his home, sheltering her from her father’s caning. She would never forget his kindness... But she had to go...make him understand.

“We belong to two different worlds, it is best we don’t leave it this way and part as friends.
When he protested vehemently, “Don’t try to contact me, it will only hurt more.” she said, choosing a white lie.
She didn't love him; she had been in love with the idea. She realised it had been more for him but chose to ignore the hurt and pain he was sure to feel at her abrupt abandonment.

Back to where her heart belonged she was in a state of bliss. But the momentary happiness evaporated when she felt a chill in the air that hadn't been there before...no one said anything to her, her mother and aunt glad to see her alive and safe. But she felt eyes behind her back, hushed whispers of neighbours and relatives...School was a place out of bounds, her father had spoken to her just that once to convey his negative reply at her pleading, The one refuge she could escape the stifling restrictions of home to, was forever lost to her.

She wondered why she was reminiscing now, after decades of blissful forgetfulness.....married off to the first alliance possible the very next year, once the scandal was deemed to have become old news...life had never gotten easy for the recently turned the grandmother of three...she had paid for that youthful mistake in more ways than countable, her husband iron handed behaviour proof that he had an essential knowledge of her infamous escapade...and yet had been content with the little joys that surprised her now and then, her two sons and a daughter who made live worth living.

The name in the magazine she was browsing through had triggered the journey into the past. A past that had been locked safe for long in the hearts of elders, her younger cousin who had never judged her, rather commiserated, his and her own...his name, she had once deemed as melodious as his voice was all that she thought she remembered of him. Yet the picture of the professor who had been awarded the community prize for his contribution to the education of women had to be his. She was glad that life had been kinder to him, a first in many years, noting sadly that it made no mention of any family other than his sister’s. She gently, absentmindedly retraced his face on the paper while the garlanded portrait of her husband watched on from the wall behind. She quickly put away the magazine into the bedside drawer as the voice of her elder son returning from his trip pulled her back to the present, the mask back in place.

 word count 1550

Forgotten Tales Series - 2

A Friendly Misunderstanding 

           * Good times and bad times that's what friends are for*....the song had long since died out but it echoed in her ears still. 'Apt' she thought sadly. She knew it would happen someday; but from such close quarters and her reduced to a passive spectator - was not how she had envisaged it.

         To all around them, they were good friends bound by a camaraderie that was rare. That's where the root of the problem lay. Shabnam ! that name that had been floating around for just a year, was now a force to contend with...rather...back out off.

        And she had been, she recollected with a twinge of envy, instrumental in bringing them together. 'Her friend at work and her best friend would soon be reciting - till death do us apart', she mused wryly. She wished them well and yet....the floodgates wee quick to open and she gave in to a bout of self pity. Dimly, she become aware of the phone's incessant ringing. She got up slowly, moved to the hall, shaking hands holding the receiver. The voice on the other side was its usual cool self...A dull ache gripped her and she answered monotonously. 

           The voice : "I am coming over to your place. There's something I want to share with you." 

          She thought grimly, 'As if I don't already know why' but replied, "That's fine with me. I am at home anyways, the rest of them have gone out".   

       Click and the phone went silent. She went to the washroom,  slapped cold water on her face to hide away any visible traces of despair, dabbed on some compact. Needing to calm her highly strung nerves, she busied herself in the kitchen, got the kettle on and boiled some milk. Just as she was lost in her lonely thoughts, the doorbell rang. Turning off the gas (her bouts of practicality), she ran to open the door. Abruptly she stopped halfway, waited for a flurry of rings and finally let him in.

          "Hi, what took you so long?"

          " I was in the kitchen. Make yourself comfortable. I was going to have Coffee, would you like some Tea?"

        "Not now, maybe later. Do you have anything chilled?"(knowing there wouldn't be any alcoholic drinks in her fridge). 

      Off she went and returned a few minutes later with a Cola. She watched surreptitiously, as he gulped down the drink gratefully. 

         He startled her with a "My! Its hot outside."   

       She nodded and turned away quickly to regain her composure. She waited for the blow.

        As though reading her mind, he wasted no time in stating, "Now, for the reason for this surprise visit. I am sorry I couldn't make it earlier, but today's the only day off I was able to take in some time. I wanted to do this before, but you too have been busy lately, and one thing after another has eaten away into all my spare time..."

           The sentences, their jarring sounds was all she heard. It was as though her mind was blocking out the facts in those words.

         As he droned on "Won't be the first to do it, but its exciting nevertheless, I mean one doesn't get married everyday....." 

      He paused, puzzled by the sudden change in her expression, he asked "Any problems?". 

        She was quick to reply, " Oh, nothing , she is truly a lucky girl".

         " Yeah, I guess she is....don't say you are aware of it!!"

        "I was informed sometime back" she said putting great efforts to sound normal.

        "Funny, why didn't anyone back home tell me?"

        'Back home??.....' She thought, 'so its true ...and now....', "She mentioned it when we went out last time, shopping in fact three weeks ago" she drawled on...

       "Went out shopping? Odd! my sister never mentioned it".

         It was her turn to be puzzled, " What has Preeti  got to do with this?"

        "Everything. Its her wedding we are talking about", he said in an amused tone.

       The world was turning topsy turvy...sensing her bewilderment, he come closer to the table she was standing with her back to, looked at her for a few minutes, gently asked, "What's going on? Who is lucky, if not  Preeti?"

      She couldn't utter a single word. Motionless, she remained silent. He repeated his query, this time with a touch of concern in his voice. It roused her out of her trance and yet she could not bear to look up at him.

      Gaze to the ground, she replied softly, "Shabnam and...", her voice trailing off.

      He spoke " So, its the season for weddings, good for her....wait a minute, what has that got to do with my visit?"

      With no response forthcoming, a bright light, light up somewhere, clear as daylight and he understood. He started to question her but stopped with an afterthought. Instead, he walked to the kitchen, searched for some edibles, finding a packet of wafers, he literally glided back to his comfy spot on the couch and began munching. The chomping noises were meant to irritate and further unnerve her and it did just that.

     "What is he upto', she thought hotly. Whatever it was, he was taking his own sweet time with it. Reaching for the music system, he played one of her favourite songs, 'Everything I do, I do it for you..."

      The whole bloody scene and his casual air was draining her composure and in a vain effort to control her emotions and get it off her chest, she was forced to ask of him, "Isn't it true about you and Shabnam?", biting at the last word.

     He turned back, staring at her in serious puzzlement, all the time struggling to stifle a grin, "What about us?"

      "You two are making marriage plans, aren't you?" She asked bluntly.

      'If you say so', he longed to say and play along. Seeing her increasing disconcernment, he settled for, "How and what do you know ?"

     "The whole gamut", she admitted dryly, "Shabnam told us, me and Preeti on our shopping trip. She even thanked me for introducing you to her. Hell, our department is agog with the gossip of your impending union, what with your frequent visits". Unable to stop, she added bitterly, "She wouldn't have known you, if not for me".

        "That's true", he agreed, leaving her to figure out what was true and what wasn't.

        As he paced the room, he mentally kicked himself for paying attention to the other girl in question, he needed to have a serious talk with Shabnam, at the earliest. First things first, this was the opening he had been hoping for, and damned he would be to let it go by.  He needed answers to the question he had been grappling with for over two years now.

      So, he retreated to the couch and silently watched her, observing her face that had always been an open book, her expressions presently forming an amalgam of sadness, despair and bewilderment, but not the emotions he sought to see.

       Time seemed to beat its own drum, the silence comforting her, she having no inclination to raise again, the topic that was painful to even contemplate let alone discuss. And yet, she could not help the strange feeling that arose in her and wondered, "Why is he not forthcoming?'

      He seemed different today, from his usual self. True, he was secretive and did not reveal his thoughts or feelings, except to those close....'But they were close, weren't they?', she pondered, his behaviour beyond her comprehension.

     She gave in to the urge to curse Shabnam in particular, the world in general for the way the events has spanned out. Her mind waltzed over the good times she and TC (as she and all their common friends affectionately called him) had shared, the mutual care, support, affection and guidance nurtured over half a dozen years.  

     As she glanced shyly at the pensive figure seated, from her spot at the table, she knew it would be impossible to forget, difficult to let go. Yet, she wished the very best for him, even if it meant....She had long known, she was lying to one and all when she denied anything but platonic feelings for him. As she battled her conflicting emotions and thoughts, she failed to notice that TC had abandoned his position and walked unto her, so much so, that she let out a scared cry when he held her by her shoulders.

     He gently raised her face up, to met his glance, searching for the elusive answer in her eyes....something flashed just then...and then it was gone......but it was enough.

     He asked her tenderly, almost reprimanding, "Is this why you have been avoiding me of late?". She looked away guiltily.

    Diffidently he asked of her, "does it matter to you that I may belong with someone else?"

    'Yes', she wanted to scream out loud but bit her tongue to stifle the impulse and shook her head.

     He commanded, " Look into my eyes and deny the same".

     Astonished, she looked up, seeing her own pain and desires reflected in those dark brown eyes looking down at her, slowly aware of the tears rolling down her face.

    Words seemed redundant then. Nothing else mattered anymore, except their love....now....tomorrow.....forever.....

    

word count 1558

     

(Originally written on 1/5/1997, as per my diary)   ;D)