Wars

Once upon a time, there was a couple. They lived a peaceful life in a little apartment in a big city. They had a girl. 3 year old. They didn’t have anyone else. 

They were not used to having people and things in their life. So their house was practically empty. They only had those things that made them happy. So was their hearts. They did not have many people in it. And so they lived their happy lives. 

Then one day, the happiness vanished. 

The 3 year old began to disobey them. She wanted things the parents did not want. She invited people they did not want in their lives. They felt that the girl suddenly became a stranger. They developed a distance in their hearts. The girl went further away day after day, while the couple stayed close. 

The girl one day felt that she did not have anything in common with them. She decided to move out and away. And she did that. 

The first day, the parents did not feel anything. In fact, they thought they felt happy when they reclaimed the calm and inner peace. They no more had the extra things, extra demands and extra people. 

Days passed. The couple spoke less to each other. In their individual hearts, they began to feel a void they could not fill with each other’s presence. Somehow, they felt responsible for this situation. However, in the rush to justify themselves to claim their peace, they tried to make themselves believe that it is the other who is responsible. 

Months passed. One day, the girl came to visit them. Not out of love, but to get some of her remaining things. The moment they saw the girl at the door, the couple felt a rush of strange chemicals in their veins. They froze. Their hearts bled. Their inner eyes shed tears like a fountain. But their physical bodies remained frozen till she left. 

Inside, each knew what was going on. Each withdrew into their shells. 

Years passed. The girl attended the funeral of both the parents the same month. When she was at home one last time to clear and lock it, she realised that her parents were still there inside her. They were still fighting a war over her. They were still not talking to each other. They were still feeling guilty. They were still justifying themselves. They were still blaming each other. 

The only difference was that now, both were her. The last day of the month, her obituary appeared in the same newspapers, in the same obscure corner. The war was over. Probably. ¯

Little Kitty’s Brother

Little Kitty’s younger brother’s name is Bob. He likes to paint and does so almost all day, while Little Kitty hates drawing.

One day, there was a quiz competition in Little Kitty’s school. She won the first prize and got a set of colour pencils as gift. When Bob saw the colour pencils, he asked if he could draw with them. but Little Kitty said, “No! I got them as a gift. I will not give them to you.”
Bob started crying. He told his mom: “Mom, she hates painting, but doesn’t give those pencils to me. eeh eeh…”

Mom told Bob: “Oh my dear baby, why do you cry? Those colour pencils are not yours. They are Little Kitty’s pencils. She got them as a prize. If she doesn’t want to give, she doesn’t have to give them to anyone.”

Then mom said to Little Kitty: “Little Kitty, those pencils are yours. You won them. But since you hate drawing and painting, will you use them? Bob is your brother. There is nothing wrong in giving some pencils to him. I will not force you. But sharing makes you a better person.”

Mom went back to reading. Hearing what she said, Bob stopped crying. Little Kitty thought for a while and gave half of her colour pencils to Bob and said, “Bob, I’m sorry. Please use these pencils.”

Bob said, “Thank you, sister. I am sorry too. I should not have cried to have your pencils.”
They smiled and embraced each other. Bob drew many pictures with those pencils and Little Kitty appreciated them a lot.

Image from Here

Little Kitty and the Butterfly

One day, Little Kitty was walking around the farm when it saw a beautiful red and black butterfly sitting on a coconut tree. Little Kitty jumped toward the butterfly with open paws and raised tail to catch it. But the butterfly casually flew up a few inches and sat peacefully. Little Kitty’s ego was hurt.

She asked the butterfly, “I am much bigger than you. How can you ignore and insult me like this?”

The butterfly said, “Little Kitty, it doesn’t matter how big or small we are. What matters is how well we use our talents to win this world.”

Little Kitty didn’t understand a word.

The butterfly continued, “If you try to fly, you will fail. In the same way, if I try to catch rats, I will fail too. Do you understand?”

Little Kitty smiled in humility and said, “Yes butterfly, I understand now. And sorry friend, I shall mind my business from now on.”

Then, Little Kitty went her way, and the butterfly flew towards flowers. 

Image from Here

The Drummer Girl

Once there lived a little girl named Lizzy. She dreamed of becoming a drummer and drummed on her table every day. But her parents wanted her to become a scientist. This made her sad. She prayed hard so she could become a drummer.

One day while Lizzy was playing in the park with her friends, a vendor selling small drums came that way. She wished deeply to buy a drum, but her parents didn’t give her the money. Lizzy stood close to the vendor and watched him play it. He sold a few drums to some children there. He saw Lizzy’s desire to have a drum in her eyes. So he played a wonderful piece for her on his drum. Lizzy was overwhelmed with joy, and jumped up and down clapping her hands.

Seeing this, the drum vendor gave a drum to her and asked her to play a piece. Lizzy was overjoyed. She took the drum in wonder and played one of the rhythms she had been practicing on her table. She played with such passion that the drum vendor and everyone who listened were filled with awe. When she finished, there were cheers and a long round of applaus.

Drummer Girl (Picture from HERE)

Then, from behind the crowd, her parents came forward and embraced her in amazement. They told her, “you play like a professional! We are sorry we denied you your dream. Now on, we think you should pursue your dream.” Lizzy’s eyes welled up hearing this.

The drum vendor told her, “Lizzy, you have real talent. Keep that drum and practice every day. I will come back next year to listen to you.” Lizzy couldn’t believe her ears! That day onward, she practiced every day on her drum and went on to become one of the best drummers in the land. Next year when the drum vendor revisited her village, she was already known as ‘The Drummer Girl’.

Late Every evening

Every evening our maid comes late for work. So my wife is pissed off every evening. She is supposed to arrive at 6 pm. But she comes at 6.30 or 6.45 pm. One day she decided to scold the maid. 

Image from here

The designated scolding-day arrived. That day also she came late for work.  45 bloody minutes late. We were supposed to go out for shopping after the maid left. Now we had to cancel our plans as shops would be closed by the time the maid left. Here is what happened later.

‘‘Krrrrrrr Krrrrrrrr’’. The doorbell. My wife waits for about 30 seconds before opening the door. During these 30 seconds, she gathered all the anger she could. Then she opened the door and let the maid enter. She decided to scold the maid in a creative manner so that she never forgets this lesson.

With a very serious face, in a very serious tone, my wife asks: ‘Savitri, do you have a watch or a mobile phone where you can see time?’

Maid: ‘Yes deedi. I have a mobile phone’. She hoisted her mobile phone up in the air with a smile.

My wife (about to explode in anger): ‘Tell me what is time on the phone now.’

Maid: ‘Deedi, I can’t read. I will ask my husband and tell you.’ She went on to dial her husband’s number and ask him what time it was!

My wife stood there watching the maid make this phone call. The anger she amassed disappeared. While she was comprehending the fact that the maid could not read, or did not have any sense of time, the maid finished her conversation over phone.

With a smile, she said: “Deedi, it is 6.45 now.

I could hear a distinct ‘Pling’ sound emanating from my wife’s face and filling the entire house. At that moment, she decided to accept the simple maid as she was. Let her come for work when her 6 pm arrived.

Then there was peace in the house. For a few days.  

Tiggu the Tiger's Friendship

Once upon a time there was a tiger in a forest named Tiggu. He was very strong. He used to disturb and frighten everyone in the forest. Nobody liked him since he was very irritating.

One day, while walking through the forest, Tiggu the tiger accidentally stepped over a thorn. It pierced his hind leg badly, and it started bleeding. Tiggu ran back home. It was very painful. He wept for hours, but the pain did not go down. He began to feel hungry. Pain and hunger made him weak. He couldn't even move.

The next day, Rabbu rabbit and Denzu deer were walking past Tiggu the tiger's cave. They heard a very weak weeping sound from inside Tiggu's cave. They listened for some time.

Rabbu rabbit said: "It is Tiggu the tiger's voice. He is crying. Shall we go and see?"

Denzu deer said: "No! I am afraid. He will kill and eat me. May be he is playing a trick on us."

"But let us just see. What if he is really in some danger? My mother told me that I must help other animals," said Rabbu rabbit.

"Ok then. We shall take a risk. Let us go and see." said Denzu deer.

They tiptoed into Tiggu's den and saw that Tiggu the tiger was indeed weeping and rolling on the floor in pain.

They hid behind the door and asked him, "Hi Tiggu, what is wrong? Why are you weeping?"

Tiggu said through his tears, "Please help me. There is a thorn in my foot. I can't move. I am dying. Please help me."

Rabbu rabbit said: "We shall help you. But how do we know that you will not kill and eat us. Promise that you will not kill us or disturb other animals unnecessarily ever again. See, you don't have any friends. If you are nice to others, you will have many friends."

Tiggu said: "Oh yes. I shall be very nice to everybody from today onward. I will not disturb anyone unnecessarily from today. Please help me. Please..."

Rabbu rabbit and Denzu deer slowly went near Tiggu. They saw the thorn in his foot. Slowly, they pulled the thorn out and applied medicine on the wound. Tiggu felt very relaxed. The pain went away.

Tiggu realized that he needs friends in the forest to live happily. So he thanked Rabbu rabbit and Denzu deer profusely. They became very good friends. That day onwards, Tiggu never disturbed any other animal in the forest. He became friends with everyone- a happy tiger. 

By the Riverside

His name was Kim. Eternally going around with a fishing stick, a roll of string, hooks and bate, Kim was destined to be himself. He was determined too. For him, to live was to fish. Kim woke up to fish. He slept to wake up the next morning to fish by the riverside.

One day, while fishing in the woods, he saw a girl. He knew it had to be her. The girl for her. His girl. She was fishing too. Alone in the woods. Jumping into the river to swim, throwing her fishing line far, catching big ones with ease. He knew she was his.

But he had no courage to talk to her. He hid himself in the woods by the riverside, just to watch her. He moved from one tree to another to see her better. Then she left with her catch. He sat around for some more time and left with a swollen heart. He couldn't forget her. He was fallen. Fallen flat for her. So flat, he forgot his fishing stick in the woods.

Then he made inquiries to find out about her. Not many knew. But the fishing gears store guy knew this much- She used to come around to fish. Was from far. Came there just to fish by the riverside.

What he heard made him happy. She loved fishing. He smiled to himself. But he didn't get to meet her again. She remained a dream within his heart. A patch of hope and love. An oasis.

He wrote an advertisement in the local newspaper for his missing fishing-stick. Hoping to get it back. May be someone found it in the woods.

Then, one afternoon, he found the fishing girl at the door of his cabin by the riverside. She held the newspaper advertisement in her left hand, and the fishing stick in her right. The same old beaten fishing stick. His fishing stick. And a smile- a knowing smile.

*****

This is the story of my parents. A mother who knew she was being watched while in the woods, and a father who knew that the girl in the woods was his. The story of my parents. A story by the riverside.

Craving

The darkness of morbid evenings! He twisted and turned in his creaking old iron chair cursing the evening, and all the sadness it brought with it. To make the curse perfect, he spat on the dirty wall next to him, and looked for a beedi. He liked a beedi between his index and middle fingers whenever he felt emasculated. And he smoked a lot!

Life was such for him. He started on a high note, but had a few hurdles from the beginning. He graduated from a good University with a first class, and found a job that paid well. But within a year, he fell sick. His backbone was giving him trouble. His company gave him a month's salary in advance and sent him away with an "all-the-best" card. Nobody wanted a liability on them.

He spent his savings in the hospital. When discharged he looked for a job, but ended up getting the smoking habit instead. He did odd jobs, ran errands, taught a few kids and earned a living.

When he looked back into his life, he saw only smoky discreet images. He was never clear about his life. The only proper job he had was sort of a joy for him, but it did not last long. He was worn out and tired of life.

There were no beedis! He felt helpless. He didn't have money. He had nothing to eat. He began wondering about his life as if it were a movie script. Where would the script writer take his life from there? There weren't many characters, there was no heroine and no villain except life itself, no twist and absolutely no beauty! This script would be a disaster. No script writer would hesitate to tear it up and throw it away. " I have reached a dead end", he said to himself with a sad smile.

He decided to go to the shop and beg for a beedi. He was hungry and felt dejected, but all he wanted was a beedi. A simple beedi could set his life alright. Walking half naked to the shop, he thought about the beedi he was going to smoke. A beedi that gave out golden smokey clouds into the despair of his lonely sadness. He could see the impending joy of his life. A beedi was all he needed.

Shop was across the road. He could see it. There were rows of Dinesh beedi packets arranged in lines behind the shopkeeper. A packet cost three Rupees. But he just wanted one beedi. "The shopkeeper would be generous", he thought to himself. "Afterall, I have given him a lot of business", he thought with a spark in his eyes.

He set his hopes high on the goodness of the shopkeeper and crossed the road with the image of a golden beedi in front of him.

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

THE shopkeeper had seen the half naked man coming towards his shop. He knew what he was coming for, and kept a beedi ready, along with a few words of advice and scolding. The shopkeeper always scolded him for not making the most of his education and talent. He was capable of achieving much more. He had a smile on his face imagining how he would come and beg for a beedi, and how he would refuse and pretend to be angry.

THUD!

The shopkeeper saw the half naked man landing on the road, right under the tires of a lorry. He turned his eyes away in shock as the lorry ran over him mercilessly and sped away without stopping!

The beedi fell from his hand as blood spread over the road. And a few words of advice and scolding escaped his lips slowly. Those words were emasculated, as if they were craving for a beedi.

As if There was No Tomorrow

That little dot in his heart began swelling as she disappeared from his sight. The colourless dot became big and black and globular. He felt suffocated. As he strained to follow the dust trail of her car, he realised that she was alone. "I am alone."

Why does this happen all over again breaking my heart the hundredth time into uncountable pieces! He swore as tears rushed to his still eyes and gushed down his stubborn bearded face. "She comes, she goes. I remain here like an island waiting to be inhabited."

The swell in his heart became unbearable. Rubbing his migraine infested temples he staggered back to his bed leaving the front door open. He didn't feel like eating, drinking or having a bath. He just felt dead enough to fall on to the bed. The bed still retained her scent, which saddened him even more.

Should I drink? He asked himself. Or should I have some medicine? He couldn't bother to answer his own questions. In the agony of being alone with a migraine and a blotch in the heart, he disappeared into deep deep sleep.

*****

A few miles away, on a moving car, another migraine was pounding its way into the core of her sanity. She felt like opening the door of the car and jumping out into the heavy traffic. She held a handwritten letter in her hand. One page in black ink. She was clutching it so hard that it crumpled so badly and was wet from the sweat of her palm. He had given it to her before she boarded the car. With thumping heart she read it. She cried so loud that the driver pulled the car over. "My heart would wrench and I will die."

Every time she left him, she would decide to stay the next time. But she was never able to decide. She was sad to leave him alone, but life had to go on. And she had to leave.

She looked at the letter one last time, shredded it in her hands and threw it out the window. Then looking out at the rocky hills by the roadside, she did what she always forced herself to do- turned her heart into stone by holding her breath for a really long time. It helped.

While the tear drops on her cheek dried in the wind, she drifted into deep deep sleep.

*****

At home, in the kitchen, a few black ants were trying to get what was left in a small glass bottle of poison. They too slowed down gradually and slept- as if there was no tomorrow.

Motionless Blue eyes

She kept looking at his motionless blue eyes. It had become her habit. At times, she just kept looking at him for hours on end. Some evenings, it was her old alarm clock that awakened her from those long sessions. 

He was the most wonderful guy she had ever met. That ​was why she chose to live with him. The proposal and acceptance were easy. A year after they got together, he fell ill. Illness led to paralysis. She had no complaints. She worked at an office and made a meager income that was just sufficient for their survival. But she did not surrender to her fate, because she was able to find joy in his blue eyes.

She had to retire when age told her to. They enrolled themselves in a senior citizens' home. There, in the quiet of lingering grand old memories, she continued to look into his motionless blue eyes. 

That day, her alarm did not wake her up. Her open eyes were looking into his in peace. But this time both pairs were motionless.

There was a strange calm in the room. And I begin to wonder if I saw a drop of tear forming at the corners of his motionless blue eyes.