Time Jump....45 days later
It was a weekend and for some reason weekends seemed harder to go by than normal work days. As usual she was taking a walk in the twilight on the roof, watching those planes go by- wondering... if he ever thought about her. As if by voluntary action she checked the mobile for any missed calls, his calls. None. It has been 40+5 days but the situation had showed no signs of improving-maybe she was an exception to the principle of "A habit is formed in 40 days". She still felt all that - intense love, intense hate, desire to call, desire to kick him. The same rawness of not just one but a whole gamut of emotions.She still day dreamed about them being married and things being all right. Pages after pages in her diary had been filled up and when she looked back she suspected that the action of writing was more directed at killing time and preserving her sanity; than as a reflection to her thoughts. A particular phase she had written often caught her attention
....ऐसा लग रहा है की ज़िन्दगी की कश्ती कहीं बीच अनजान समंदर में गोते खा रही है....मुझे याद ही नहीं रहता की मैं एक बहुराष्ट्रीय संस्था में कार्यकारी हूँ. मैं तो बस एक नाविक बन कर रह गई हूँ जो अपनी भावनाओ के चक्रवात में फंस गई है....
That was probably the only sentence(if not only than maybe the first) in Hindi in her diary. She had taken all that trouble to find the Hindi words and then print them out correctly in a neat handwriting when all of it could be written in English easily.
The wind carried traces of television playing in the neighbourhood and kitchens being invaded for the preparation of the evening meals. Suddenly she heard क्यूँ आज कल नींद कम ख्वाब ज्यादा हैं...लगता है खुदा का कोई नेक इरादा है...कल तक फकीर आज दिल शैज़दा है...and it almost broke her heart. All over again. How many times had she and Aashray sat and listened to this number because...Because it reflected their emotions, what they felt. Her emotions...she thought bitterly. For him, it was just a song. Things would have been so different if he would have thought of it something more than a foot tapping number...But then that was a mere song...she should not expect such things from a guy who dumps his girlfriend....
The next day being Monday was a busy one. There were new joinings in the office and she was to handle the induction of those 10 guys. Huh!! These software engineers they would ask a thousand stupid questions about salary, tax, earnings, benefits and leaves. Most of them were just out of college maybe with a year or two of experience and were earning nothing less than 20 lakhs/annum and yet all they could think was....did they not have anything else to think of? No heartbreaks? No affairs? Lucky them...
During the induction meeting she could not help but look at a particular guy. His name was Jatin and he had that poetic air,around him (no no...that was not the right word. The right word was मजनू-even though on the surface he was smiling, was shaved and dressed in formals). More than once they held each other's gaze and there was nothing intimidating or flirtatious about it. Infact it was a comfort...a comfort that generates from a similar loss...as if he was saying......ऐसा लग रहा है की ज़िन्दगी की कश्ती कहीं बीच अनजान समंदर में गोते खा रही है....मुझे याद ही नहीं रहता की मैं एक बैठक में हूँ. मैं तो बस एक नाविक बन कर रह गया हूँ जो तुम्हारी तरह अपनी भावनाओ के चक्रवात में फंस गया है...
Over the next few days they saw a lot of each other...more by design than by chance. He would come to her often with questions and she would drop at his seat just to check if he was comfortable in the new environment. They would talk a lot about work and while they did the eyes carried a conversation of their own. Something like:
जतिन : बहुत दर्द होता है ना जब कोई अपना चला जाता है?
एकता : हाँ...तुम्हें भी ना?
जतिन : हाँ...पता नहीं कब मैं आगे बढ़ पाऊँगा..उसको भुलाकर.
एकता : मैं तुम्हारे आंसू कैसे कम करुं...मैं तो खुद ही अपने रस्ते से भटक गई हूं
Then one Friday, some 2 months while she was working late and everyone else had left...he walked into her room. Without a preamble or as much as a hi, he asked her if she would like to join him for a coffee the next day..so that they could share something that he felt would make things better. She agreed instantly and did not even ask what was that something. She knew...no "they" knew the pain...the pain when a song stops being a song and becomes a memory lane. When familiar roads become an unbearable sight for they hold too many emotions. When....
The next morning she woke up happier and excited than in several weeks. She questioned herself on her "status" Was she still the "torn lover" or was she the one who could sniff love in the air? After several seconds of deliberation she decided she should get ready for the meeting. The question could be answered later..at night.
It was good to talk to him. Plus there was no awkwardness...it was as if they had known each other all along...thanks to those random "eye conversations". He never asked her if she had a boyfriend...instead he asked "so how long it has been?" Her question could have meant anything...but she answered "4 months...he left me because his parents did not want him to marry in another caste....maybe" That set it off...the conversation had finally moved from the eyes to mouth...and their was no looking back...they shared stories, they held hands and consoled each other for what had not been their fate.
In another couple of days they were "seeing each other".Kind of. No, they have been too hurt to express love openly...after all love was not a verbal thing, it was in their silence, their eye to eye conversations. Then one day while they were walking in the Lodhi Gardens, he kissed her, gently on the cheek. She did not restrain his moves, for she was busy crying. It was as if some dam had just broken and had flooded the world...her eyes, her heart....For a moment, Jatin thought, he should not have done that and even said "Shit...I am sorry...I did not intend to do this...oh please stop crying....forgive me" bur she just drew him closer, while her body was racked with sobs. Jatin still unsure asked "Did I hurt you?" She nodded in negative and hugged him tighter even as the crescendo of the wails increased. So Jatin let it be....his heart knew she was trying to spend as many as tears as possible so that they do not come in the way of her life, so that they do not blind her anymore in between important meetings, so that she can link new memories to old songs, so that she can start all over again.
For Ekta, life was finally moving. Jatin had not said a word about the particular incident, nor had he made any further moves. He still smiled and their eyes still carried out conversations (more cheerful ones) but for one reason or another they could not meet each other over the next few weekends. Then one day when she came to office she saw a mail from Jatin. To say she was surprised was an understatement.
Dear Ekta,
A thousand thoughts run as I write this mail, sitting at the airport. As you might be aware, I am not in office today. I left...left the company, left the country...left you. I should have but did not tell you that I had applied for PR in Australia. I can give a thousand reasons why I did that but then I will give none...Choose the reason that suits you best...maybe because you were the HR and I could get into trouble if I told you all this, maybe because I did not want you to be lost in the ocean again...when you had just managed to emerge...maybe because there was someone else in my life...maybe....
Take good care of yourself. You shall always be in my prayers.
Jatin
She did not know what to make out of it. She did not even know how should she react to this mail. Should she write back (if at all) saying "take care, bbye...it was nice knowing you" or should she write a mail full of obscenities? And why did he leave...like that? What reason should she choose from the ones he had provided?
Several hours later when she was in her bed and sleep refused to come after 2 pegs of neat vodka she decided that the problem was not of Aashray or Jatin or any Tom, Dick or Harry. The problem was with...what did they call it? मर्द जात. साले सब के सब **** होते हैं. As sleep enfolded her, her last thoughts were of jotting down "some things sound so much better in one language than another".
But then was she filling the pages more to kill time and to preserve her sanity than as a reflection to her thoughts?
(to be continued)
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
The Sound
10 December 1992
Dear Diary,
It was not a good day. Dad caught me again with the Nancy Drew novel which I was reading hidden inside the Maths book. He came into the room so suddenly that I had no time to cover up. He slapped me, took away the novel and asked me to sit in the bedroom where mummy was lying. Mummy...that is another reason why I do not feel good. She is having fever since the last 4 days and is no fun. She is sleeping all the time.
In the school Mihir, got a scolding from the Math Maam' because he was trying to cheat in the test. She took him to the Principal. Good for him...for the next 3 periods he sat quietly without bothering me-I hope he stays that way. Parul was again absent so there was no one to exchange tiffins with....
Have to go now and study for the Physics test tomorrow. Bbye.
-Sanchita
12 December 1992
Dear Diary,
Mom seemed a bit better yesterday but today again she is down with high fever. Papa took her to the hospital and doctor uncle said it was probably the cold wave that is showing its effect. Hope she gets better soon. I like working in the kitchen but not when mamma is in bed. :(
I did not go out to play in the evening. Papa seemed tired and there was no end to people who were coming to see mummy. First Sinha Uncle came, then Mayank's dad and mom and while they were still there Rashmi aunty and Sudha aunty turned up. I prepared tea for them...everyone liked it and they praised me...Yeaaaaaaaaaa!!!
Please God, get my mom out of bed soon...I want to play games with her. Ritesh is no good..he is cheating all the time!!
Sanchita
PS: Got 9 out of 10 in Physics and 20/20 in Maths despite Nancy Drew :)
13 December 1992
Dear Diary,
Mummy isn't well. But that is secondary...there is something else I want to tell you about. Today evening I was sitting with mummy in her bed, right against the window, studying. I heard some funny sound....like that of glass moving in its wooden frame, in the strong wind. The noise was not loud but constant and irritating. I ignored it thinking it was a mouse or something...but then the sound persisted. When Doctor uncle came over to see mom I forgot all about it (he had got me a chocolate) but later after dinner the sound was still there, a bit louder. I really do not know what it is. Asked dad about it and he said it must be the wind banging against the window. I wanted to tell him that the window was open but then didn't say anything- for I knew he would have said that I got weird ideas watching horror shows on TV.
Later when I went out to collect clothes from outside, I noticed that there was absolutely no wind. The sound is still there....
Mummy is calling me. Will write later.
Sanchita
15 December 1992
Oh what a terrible day was yesterday. Mummy was alright till evening but all of a sudden around 6:30PM she started shivering and the fever was as high as 104 degrees. Papa wasn't there so I called Seema Aunty. She came and started putting a cloth dipped in cold water over mummy's forehead. I was at the telephone calling dad when I noticed that the "sound" was still there...it was louder than the day before and kinda creepy....
Anyways, I went all round the house checking if any other windows made that sound...but no everything was quiet. I banged the window of my room to see if any sound came...but none. I checked outside and still there was no wind. I really have no idea what that sound is.
Dad soon came over and took mummy to the hospital. The doctor has her admitted- means she is in a real bad shape. The house is in a mess- I am trying to help out dad but he wants me to study(since the exams are round the corner). How can I explain that I cannot concentrate on studies with mom in hospital and that funny sound in the window.
Going to the hospital now to see mom. Bye.
Sanchita
PS: There is no sound today.
18 December 1992
Mummy is back. She is much better but gosh so many people are coming over to see her...Nothing much to write. I have to study...exams start after 3 days!!
Sanchita
23 December 1992
I feel so sad - mummy is again in the hospital. She was alright till yesterday and then in the evening the fever came- all of a sudden. How is that possible? She hadn't gone out so there is no possibility of catching a cold. She was explaining me the diagram in Bio one moment and the next she was shivering again!!We got her wrapped in 3 blankets but she refused to be still. No one noticed it but that sound was again there in the window. I have been keeping a track of it and it had been absent all along but started minutes before mummy had this shivering fit. I think there is some connection between the sound and mummy's fever.
Later when papa had given mummy some medicines and she was sleeping I tried to hold the window in place so that the sound stopped but it didn't. I went outside on the pretext of collecting clothes to see if I could figure out something...as usual there was no wind, no rats and the most surprising thing was that when I put my ears against the window from outside I could not hear a thing. And still the sound continues....
I was so scared that I slept with mummy and papa. I insisted on everyone sleeping in my room but dad got angry...obviously he would...when mummy is in a bad shape. All through the night the sound continued. once I asked dad if he heard that sound and all he said was "What sound?" I kept quiet but then I could not sleep.
Today morning when papa called doctor uncle he said it would be better to get her to the hospital. No sound since then....
Rest, exams are going ok. I left a three mark question in Hindi. :( Chemistry paper was long but I managed to finish in good time. Have the last papers tomorrow- Conversation and GK.
Bbye.
Sanchita
25 December 1992
Dear Diary,
Exams over...mummy back from hospital but then her sickness is a constant family member. I now have no doubt that there is a connection between the sound and sickness...
Today is Christmas. We got our gifts but then it looks like Santa has been in a real hurry. For there is just one gift, that too unwrapped. Maybe he got too busy or maybe he has not been keeping well. Tomorrow papa is going to Delhi for 2 days on an official trip. I am the kitchen manager for this time :)
Sanchita
27 December 1992
Dear Diary,
Oh, I hate that sound...now when that sound is not there I can still hear it buzzing in my head. Sometimes I think I am hallucinating.....but then...I really do not know what to make out of the whole thing...Maybe you can suggest me something. Here is what happened...
Bhaiya was watching TV till late yesterday night and I was scared to be in my room alone so I came to mummy. She was sleeping and I sat reading my book. Needless to say the sound was there. I tried to ignore it as much as possible, sitting as far from the window as I could. But I could still hear it.
Suddenly around 11PM mummy suddenly started saying something in her dreams. First it was a low note and I thought she would quiten out as the dream would pass over...but then she grew louder and louder. She seemed to be scared so I went over to her and stroked her, but of no avail. When nothing worked I shook her hard and she woke up. The first thing she said on opening her eyes was "Those guys in white- they will take me away...ask them to go...ask them to go. I do not want to go anywhere.." I was frightened to hear that but then I said to her that there was no one around. She closed her eyes back again and it seemed she dozed off again...all in a matter of seconds. As I turned back I saw bhaiya standing at the door looking aghast. He did not say anything but then there was nothing to say. Mummy needs help....is she going crazy? Today morning when I asked her about the dream all she said that she did not remember. But I know she does (from the expression on her face) but does not want to discuss it.
I do not know what to do.....
Sanchita.
PS: Did I mention that while pointing towards the "men in white" mummy was actually pointing her fingers towards the window? I am not sitting by that window again :(
1 January 1993
Dear Diary,
New Year. Not a good one. Mummy's still unwell and I think I will never ever see her healthy again. She has turned into a skeleton in just a period of 15 days or so. And who is responsible? Doctor uncle says all her tests are clear...and he cannot figure out as to what is wrong. Shall I go and tell him that the sound/window is the virus he is looking for?
Sanchita
2 January 1993
Dear Diary,
I told papa about this window thing. Cannot keep it any more with me. Reason: Yesterday, evening our neighbours were bursting crackers and mummy was sleeping. She woke up suddenly and I thought she would again say something about the men in white. But instead she looked at me and asked me to come over. She also asked me to get papa and bhaiya. I called them over and papa literally ran in..poor papa. She said she was going to die in a minute and wanted to say goodbye. Can you imagine that? I started crying and so did bhaiya but mummy continued in a monotone as if she was at some place far far away. Papa first looked aghast but the next moment he was at the phone calling the doctor; even as mummy was saying that "nothing could save her now". As doctor uncle came, papa asked me and bhaiya to go out. We did, even though I wanted to stay right there.
10 minutes later, papa and doctor uncle came out and papa hugged me tight. He said, that mummy was all right. Just that the loud noise had made her heart beat faster and in her weakened state she was feeling that she was going to die.
That was enough..I could not let a cracker take my mummy away from me. Nor would I let her go to those men in white or that stupid sound from the window . So I told him, in the evening while bhaiya was at the computer and he was alone in the kitchen. i told him about the sound and mummy's dream of men in white. I thought he would laugh but he did not. Instead he asked me if I was sure about the sound. I was, of course.He then asked if I still heard it. We tiptoed in mummy's bedroom and yes it was there, the sound. Louder than most days (which meant mummy would be worse tomorrow). Somehow papa still did not hear it. But he promised that he would look into it. Some time back, I saw him standing outside in the garden, checking out the window. I am sure he will set everything all right.
Sanchita
PS: Our results are out. I came second in the class. Kartik is first by 1 mark. I do not feel good right now...shall tell you the marks tomorrow.
10 January 1993
Mummy is finally all right. Ok ok not perfect but the fever has not come in the last 3 days. Nor has the sound. As I had suspected there was a connection between the sound and fever. You want to know what happened?
Well after I told papa about the sound, the very next day he brought over an ugly looking woman. He told me that she was a doctor who would pray to God to set mummy all right. It sounded funny that here was a doctor without medicines but I was ready to accept anything right now. Anyways...the woman performed some funny ceremonies in the darkened room with mummy, as all of us sat watching in a hushed tone. Trust me I was excited and scared at the same time. The scene was straight out of any horror show and the woman also looked more like those witch hunters rather than a doctor. The smell of incense sticks...the small fire that she had burnt, the darkness...it all seemed strange and untrue.
Apparently papa must have told her about the sound because I saw her going a lot of times near the window. The sound was still there...sometimes loud...at other times slow but then when she had done with her praying/curing it seemed like magic that the sound disappeared. Even mummy seemed more alert than usual...she could actually sit up in bed and thank the woman.
Oh and there is this imprtant thing I forgot to tell. After all that praying and hallaboo by that "doctor", bhaiya and me were in the drawingroom watching the cartoon. Mummy seemed tired(but well) and was sleeping. Papa and the lady were in the dining room discussing something. They did not see me- as I went into the kitchen to get some water. The lady was giving something wrapped in a paper to papa and was asking him to dispose it off in the worst possible place (gutter/toilet..etc). Papa seemed a bit scared as he handled the thing so when he was in the bedroom I had a quick look. It was a piece of alum(my guess is it was from the puja that the lady had performed) but what was surprising was that it was shaped like a face...clearcut eyes, a big nose and thick lips... presumably of a lady. There was no doubt in that. It looked scary...so I kept it back. But as I turned I realised that papa was standing right behind me, watching. I thought he would slap me but all he said was "...she says this is the lady who made mummy sick...do you recognize her?" I looked at the alum again, not daring to touch it and moved my head in negative. Papa continued "She says we must destroy the alum and then throw it so as to ward off the evil eye...shall we throw it off in the toilet?" I was scared...so could not say anything. Papa took that as my consent and the next moment I heard the sound of flush...
Sanchita
15 January 1993
Dear Diary,
Its so cold....the school is still closed. What a relief. Even papa took a day off today and we all had fun...mummy included. She is all right now and I know she would be fine...for the sounds have stopped coming from the window. Papa asked me day before yesterday if I still heard that sound. When I said no he said..."you know what...you saved your mother's life...we are so proud of you". I felt good about it but then I am still scared to go to the toilet. What if that alum-lady pops out again? Dad says she will not - but then I think it would have been a better idea to beat the alum into a thousand pieces before throwing...but dad says its bad to kill someone" Kill? How can we kill by beating alum? Well I really don't care so long we are healthy and happy.........
Got to go.
Sanchita
Dear Diary,
It was not a good day. Dad caught me again with the Nancy Drew novel which I was reading hidden inside the Maths book. He came into the room so suddenly that I had no time to cover up. He slapped me, took away the novel and asked me to sit in the bedroom where mummy was lying. Mummy...that is another reason why I do not feel good. She is having fever since the last 4 days and is no fun. She is sleeping all the time.
In the school Mihir, got a scolding from the Math Maam' because he was trying to cheat in the test. She took him to the Principal. Good for him...for the next 3 periods he sat quietly without bothering me-I hope he stays that way. Parul was again absent so there was no one to exchange tiffins with....
Have to go now and study for the Physics test tomorrow. Bbye.
-Sanchita
12 December 1992
Dear Diary,
Mom seemed a bit better yesterday but today again she is down with high fever. Papa took her to the hospital and doctor uncle said it was probably the cold wave that is showing its effect. Hope she gets better soon. I like working in the kitchen but not when mamma is in bed. :(
I did not go out to play in the evening. Papa seemed tired and there was no end to people who were coming to see mummy. First Sinha Uncle came, then Mayank's dad and mom and while they were still there Rashmi aunty and Sudha aunty turned up. I prepared tea for them...everyone liked it and they praised me...Yeaaaaaaaaaa!!!
Please God, get my mom out of bed soon...I want to play games with her. Ritesh is no good..he is cheating all the time!!
Sanchita
PS: Got 9 out of 10 in Physics and 20/20 in Maths despite Nancy Drew :)
13 December 1992
Dear Diary,
Mummy isn't well. But that is secondary...there is something else I want to tell you about. Today evening I was sitting with mummy in her bed, right against the window, studying. I heard some funny sound....like that of glass moving in its wooden frame, in the strong wind. The noise was not loud but constant and irritating. I ignored it thinking it was a mouse or something...but then the sound persisted. When Doctor uncle came over to see mom I forgot all about it (he had got me a chocolate) but later after dinner the sound was still there, a bit louder. I really do not know what it is. Asked dad about it and he said it must be the wind banging against the window. I wanted to tell him that the window was open but then didn't say anything- for I knew he would have said that I got weird ideas watching horror shows on TV.
Later when I went out to collect clothes from outside, I noticed that there was absolutely no wind. The sound is still there....
Mummy is calling me. Will write later.
Sanchita
15 December 1992
Oh what a terrible day was yesterday. Mummy was alright till evening but all of a sudden around 6:30PM she started shivering and the fever was as high as 104 degrees. Papa wasn't there so I called Seema Aunty. She came and started putting a cloth dipped in cold water over mummy's forehead. I was at the telephone calling dad when I noticed that the "sound" was still there...it was louder than the day before and kinda creepy....
Anyways, I went all round the house checking if any other windows made that sound...but no everything was quiet. I banged the window of my room to see if any sound came...but none. I checked outside and still there was no wind. I really have no idea what that sound is.
Dad soon came over and took mummy to the hospital. The doctor has her admitted- means she is in a real bad shape. The house is in a mess- I am trying to help out dad but he wants me to study(since the exams are round the corner). How can I explain that I cannot concentrate on studies with mom in hospital and that funny sound in the window.
Going to the hospital now to see mom. Bye.
Sanchita
PS: There is no sound today.
18 December 1992
Mummy is back. She is much better but gosh so many people are coming over to see her...Nothing much to write. I have to study...exams start after 3 days!!
Sanchita
23 December 1992
I feel so sad - mummy is again in the hospital. She was alright till yesterday and then in the evening the fever came- all of a sudden. How is that possible? She hadn't gone out so there is no possibility of catching a cold. She was explaining me the diagram in Bio one moment and the next she was shivering again!!We got her wrapped in 3 blankets but she refused to be still. No one noticed it but that sound was again there in the window. I have been keeping a track of it and it had been absent all along but started minutes before mummy had this shivering fit. I think there is some connection between the sound and mummy's fever.
Later when papa had given mummy some medicines and she was sleeping I tried to hold the window in place so that the sound stopped but it didn't. I went outside on the pretext of collecting clothes to see if I could figure out something...as usual there was no wind, no rats and the most surprising thing was that when I put my ears against the window from outside I could not hear a thing. And still the sound continues....
I was so scared that I slept with mummy and papa. I insisted on everyone sleeping in my room but dad got angry...obviously he would...when mummy is in a bad shape. All through the night the sound continued. once I asked dad if he heard that sound and all he said was "What sound?" I kept quiet but then I could not sleep.
Today morning when papa called doctor uncle he said it would be better to get her to the hospital. No sound since then....
Rest, exams are going ok. I left a three mark question in Hindi. :( Chemistry paper was long but I managed to finish in good time. Have the last papers tomorrow- Conversation and GK.
Bbye.
Sanchita
25 December 1992
Dear Diary,
Exams over...mummy back from hospital but then her sickness is a constant family member. I now have no doubt that there is a connection between the sound and sickness...
Today is Christmas. We got our gifts but then it looks like Santa has been in a real hurry. For there is just one gift, that too unwrapped. Maybe he got too busy or maybe he has not been keeping well. Tomorrow papa is going to Delhi for 2 days on an official trip. I am the kitchen manager for this time :)
Sanchita
27 December 1992
Dear Diary,
Oh, I hate that sound...now when that sound is not there I can still hear it buzzing in my head. Sometimes I think I am hallucinating.....but then...I really do not know what to make out of the whole thing...Maybe you can suggest me something. Here is what happened...
Bhaiya was watching TV till late yesterday night and I was scared to be in my room alone so I came to mummy. She was sleeping and I sat reading my book. Needless to say the sound was there. I tried to ignore it as much as possible, sitting as far from the window as I could. But I could still hear it.
Suddenly around 11PM mummy suddenly started saying something in her dreams. First it was a low note and I thought she would quiten out as the dream would pass over...but then she grew louder and louder. She seemed to be scared so I went over to her and stroked her, but of no avail. When nothing worked I shook her hard and she woke up. The first thing she said on opening her eyes was "Those guys in white- they will take me away...ask them to go...ask them to go. I do not want to go anywhere.." I was frightened to hear that but then I said to her that there was no one around. She closed her eyes back again and it seemed she dozed off again...all in a matter of seconds. As I turned back I saw bhaiya standing at the door looking aghast. He did not say anything but then there was nothing to say. Mummy needs help....is she going crazy? Today morning when I asked her about the dream all she said that she did not remember. But I know she does (from the expression on her face) but does not want to discuss it.
I do not know what to do.....
Sanchita.
PS: Did I mention that while pointing towards the "men in white" mummy was actually pointing her fingers towards the window? I am not sitting by that window again :(
1 January 1993
Dear Diary,
New Year. Not a good one. Mummy's still unwell and I think I will never ever see her healthy again. She has turned into a skeleton in just a period of 15 days or so. And who is responsible? Doctor uncle says all her tests are clear...and he cannot figure out as to what is wrong. Shall I go and tell him that the sound/window is the virus he is looking for?
Sanchita
2 January 1993
Dear Diary,
I told papa about this window thing. Cannot keep it any more with me. Reason: Yesterday, evening our neighbours were bursting crackers and mummy was sleeping. She woke up suddenly and I thought she would again say something about the men in white. But instead she looked at me and asked me to come over. She also asked me to get papa and bhaiya. I called them over and papa literally ran in..poor papa. She said she was going to die in a minute and wanted to say goodbye. Can you imagine that? I started crying and so did bhaiya but mummy continued in a monotone as if she was at some place far far away. Papa first looked aghast but the next moment he was at the phone calling the doctor; even as mummy was saying that "nothing could save her now". As doctor uncle came, papa asked me and bhaiya to go out. We did, even though I wanted to stay right there.
10 minutes later, papa and doctor uncle came out and papa hugged me tight. He said, that mummy was all right. Just that the loud noise had made her heart beat faster and in her weakened state she was feeling that she was going to die.
That was enough..I could not let a cracker take my mummy away from me. Nor would I let her go to those men in white or that stupid sound from the window . So I told him, in the evening while bhaiya was at the computer and he was alone in the kitchen. i told him about the sound and mummy's dream of men in white. I thought he would laugh but he did not. Instead he asked me if I was sure about the sound. I was, of course.He then asked if I still heard it. We tiptoed in mummy's bedroom and yes it was there, the sound. Louder than most days (which meant mummy would be worse tomorrow). Somehow papa still did not hear it. But he promised that he would look into it. Some time back, I saw him standing outside in the garden, checking out the window. I am sure he will set everything all right.
Sanchita
PS: Our results are out. I came second in the class. Kartik is first by 1 mark. I do not feel good right now...shall tell you the marks tomorrow.
10 January 1993
Mummy is finally all right. Ok ok not perfect but the fever has not come in the last 3 days. Nor has the sound. As I had suspected there was a connection between the sound and fever. You want to know what happened?
Well after I told papa about the sound, the very next day he brought over an ugly looking woman. He told me that she was a doctor who would pray to God to set mummy all right. It sounded funny that here was a doctor without medicines but I was ready to accept anything right now. Anyways...the woman performed some funny ceremonies in the darkened room with mummy, as all of us sat watching in a hushed tone. Trust me I was excited and scared at the same time. The scene was straight out of any horror show and the woman also looked more like those witch hunters rather than a doctor. The smell of incense sticks...the small fire that she had burnt, the darkness...it all seemed strange and untrue.
Apparently papa must have told her about the sound because I saw her going a lot of times near the window. The sound was still there...sometimes loud...at other times slow but then when she had done with her praying/curing it seemed like magic that the sound disappeared. Even mummy seemed more alert than usual...she could actually sit up in bed and thank the woman.
Oh and there is this imprtant thing I forgot to tell. After all that praying and hallaboo by that "doctor", bhaiya and me were in the drawingroom watching the cartoon. Mummy seemed tired(but well) and was sleeping. Papa and the lady were in the dining room discussing something. They did not see me- as I went into the kitchen to get some water. The lady was giving something wrapped in a paper to papa and was asking him to dispose it off in the worst possible place (gutter/toilet..etc). Papa seemed a bit scared as he handled the thing so when he was in the bedroom I had a quick look. It was a piece of alum(my guess is it was from the puja that the lady had performed) but what was surprising was that it was shaped like a face...clearcut eyes, a big nose and thick lips... presumably of a lady. There was no doubt in that. It looked scary...so I kept it back. But as I turned I realised that papa was standing right behind me, watching. I thought he would slap me but all he said was "...she says this is the lady who made mummy sick...do you recognize her?" I looked at the alum again, not daring to touch it and moved my head in negative. Papa continued "She says we must destroy the alum and then throw it so as to ward off the evil eye...shall we throw it off in the toilet?" I was scared...so could not say anything. Papa took that as my consent and the next moment I heard the sound of flush...
Sanchita
15 January 1993
Dear Diary,
Its so cold....the school is still closed. What a relief. Even papa took a day off today and we all had fun...mummy included. She is all right now and I know she would be fine...for the sounds have stopped coming from the window. Papa asked me day before yesterday if I still heard that sound. When I said no he said..."you know what...you saved your mother's life...we are so proud of you". I felt good about it but then I am still scared to go to the toilet. What if that alum-lady pops out again? Dad says she will not - but then I think it would have been a better idea to beat the alum into a thousand pieces before throwing...but dad says its bad to kill someone" Kill? How can we kill by beating alum? Well I really don't care so long we are healthy and happy.........
Got to go.
Sanchita
Sunday, February 6, 2011
A word on Dhobi Ghat
If you are a "regular" bollywood fan chances are you believe in the mantra of "they lived happily ever after" and "If the scene is an unhappy one then picture abhi baaki hai mere dost" - clichés that have been epitomised by a regular doses of blockbusters from the various production houses within the industry. But then when you go for an Aamir Khan production you do expect something "out of the box", something different, something sans masala, something that will get you thinking. Dhobi Ghat follows all the above conditions but then, in all probability the immediate reaction after watching the movie is "Oh..was it all? Are you sure?" Its almost as if Aamir/Kiran Rao is teasing you on the thinking hat - "think man think..what should be the end?"
Reason : The movie ends leaving the watcher unsure of the fate of its protagonists; atleast in terms of their relationship(s) with each other. Did atleast one of the couples get to live happily ever after? You can't be sure. Quite a possibility that each one goes about dreaming, living, hoping, surviving Mumbai-fighting his or her own personal fight. After all life is not something that can be dissected into neat chapters- you fall in love and then you fall out of it(and then maybe fall again for it) but then no matter what ever be the feelings - the sadness, the happiness it all becomes a part of you - layer over layer- an absolute cocktail. Ditto with the movie- it takes a random look into the life of 4 individuals and then leaves it an open end - letting life(the watcher) take his or her own course.
Ok so you do not like incomplete stories- but then the movie has much more to offer. The vibrant colour of emotions, the blackness of Mumbai, why despite so much of blackness some people come to Mumbai to take a breath of fresh air and why everyone from a rat-killer to an investment banker call it home or fall an easy prey to its charms.
Even though I am one of those people who are from the Dilli gharana (definition: one of those who cannot understand all that fuss about Mumbai. Delhi is so very cool) the movie made me wonder about life....about Mumbai. I love all that attention that has been given to the people, the colours and life in general instead of useless talking. Arun/Aamir is the superhero - of silence. He doesn't talk for more than 15 minutes in the whole movie and yet surpasses most of the competitors. The one who has done the maximum talking (Yasmin/Kriti) doesn't exist. Munna/Pratiek is the quintessential dhobi with a convincing performance (only if he does not have that many funky t-shirts) and Shai/Monika is in every way the American bred confused desi with an accent who stands on the fine threshold between love and friendship, between the not so rich and extremely poor and between being a camerawoman versus investment banker.
Overall a good watch. I loved it and can watch it again...for each time as the minute details of the 4 lives emerge they give me a different perspective about the ending. Keep watching, keep ending :)
Reason : The movie ends leaving the watcher unsure of the fate of its protagonists; atleast in terms of their relationship(s) with each other. Did atleast one of the couples get to live happily ever after? You can't be sure. Quite a possibility that each one goes about dreaming, living, hoping, surviving Mumbai-fighting his or her own personal fight. After all life is not something that can be dissected into neat chapters- you fall in love and then you fall out of it(and then maybe fall again for it) but then no matter what ever be the feelings - the sadness, the happiness it all becomes a part of you - layer over layer- an absolute cocktail. Ditto with the movie- it takes a random look into the life of 4 individuals and then leaves it an open end - letting life(the watcher) take his or her own course.
Ok so you do not like incomplete stories- but then the movie has much more to offer. The vibrant colour of emotions, the blackness of Mumbai, why despite so much of blackness some people come to Mumbai to take a breath of fresh air and why everyone from a rat-killer to an investment banker call it home or fall an easy prey to its charms.
Even though I am one of those people who are from the Dilli gharana (definition: one of those who cannot understand all that fuss about Mumbai. Delhi is so very cool) the movie made me wonder about life....about Mumbai. I love all that attention that has been given to the people, the colours and life in general instead of useless talking. Arun/Aamir is the superhero - of silence. He doesn't talk for more than 15 minutes in the whole movie and yet surpasses most of the competitors. The one who has done the maximum talking (Yasmin/Kriti) doesn't exist. Munna/Pratiek is the quintessential dhobi with a convincing performance (only if he does not have that many funky t-shirts) and Shai/Monika is in every way the American bred confused desi with an accent who stands on the fine threshold between love and friendship, between the not so rich and extremely poor and between being a camerawoman versus investment banker.
Overall a good watch. I loved it and can watch it again...for each time as the minute details of the 4 lives emerge they give me a different perspective about the ending. Keep watching, keep ending :)
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
A small town (cock)tale
There was someone I did not know. She lived alone right next door to my friend a long long time ago...when I was in school. Her memories are limited, few and far flung. Lots of those few have her watering the flowers in the garden as my friend and me stood gossiping on the other side of the garden wall. With her haughty and ugly expression she would often look at us sideways- each time we giggled-probably suspecting us to be laughing at her . Over years, we nicknamed her "Piggy Aunty" for obvious reasons. There was nothing extraordinary about the whole thing- 2 girls in pigtails, glasses and frocks swinging over the garden gate and laughing over a middle aged woman next door. For some reason, as I write this, a lot of memories rush back to me from that particular minute - those carefree days in April when the new session had just begun and summer vacation was just round the corner , the smell of the wet soil after it had been thoroughly dried in the blazing afternoon sun, the creaky sound of the rusting gate as it carried our weights-this way and that way in the breeze of the early evenings,the chirping of the thousand birds, mingled with the tring tring of the bicycle bells- where the number and intensity of the trings specified whether it was the milkman or the breadman. A cocktail for senses from a small town.
Though I had never interacted with her, she was not a nice person in a general perspective. Within the colony, the gossip never carried a favourable picture of her. It seemed she was hired as a teacher in one of the schools because she had buttered up the top management. I had heard stories that when angry in the classroom she would throw the wooden duster at the erring child's head. She was a divorcee -which added to her vampish image. When I was in the last year of school news had it that her (ex)husband had committed suicide. Local gossip again blamed her for the suicide and as a child in the vastness of the adult talk I took it more as a well proven fact than something that might be a figment of imagination of the women who had nothing better to do than talk, sitting in the winter sunshine even as their nimble fingers produced meters and meters of sweaters for their whole clans. For this whole while till today, it never occurred to me that she might be rude because her husband was not be a nice person and not vice versa. That it was not she but the husband's ill mental health that resulted in suicide. I never thought about all this because she was not important to me- maybe my mind visualized her more like a tree than a human. A solid steady tree that would be there, nurturing her garden no matter what.
Last year she had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. Gossip again ranged her cancer's intensity from one to three on a scale of three. The last time I saw her (six months ago) she seemed a bit pale than before but the haughty expression was right there - so were her flowers and the watering schedule. The combination of schedule and expression had reaffirmed my faith that she was ok and had all the time in the world to throw dusters at children, butter at the top management and her haughtiness around. That this would last forever...
My friend (who was her neighbour) called me today. We chatted and chatted like school girls and then over "aur batao, kya chal raha hai" (tell me what's new) she told me she had new neighbours. "Why are you not aware? Piggy aunty died 3 months back", when I asked her about what happened to our (not so dear) Piggy aunty. "It was a terrible terrible death - she was at the mercy of the neighbours, even as no family members came to help her. Her cancer which had spread to the intestines was so bad that she was literally rotting away...with black and white foam oozing out from where ever it could find as opening..." She said all this matter of factly...as it happens when the initial shock over bad news dies off and it becomes a fact, a statistics. Huh...maybe by tomorrow morning I shall be like her, taking death(someone else's) as a part of life.
But no, no matter how hard I try I cannot erase the shock . The shock not of her death, but of living in a cocoon of happiness thinking "Nothing ever changes in the small town that I call home- it was the same in school days and its still the same and would remain the same the next time when I am there". But some things did change, are changing. While I was busy doing nothing or maybe fbing, someone to whom I had never spoken to died, rotted away, leaving behind the thirsty flowers in the garden, the ghosts of April summers and the tring tring of bicycles...Who would we laugh at? Who would look at us sideways? Where would the smell of wet earth come from? Who would the women gossip about under the winter sun?And where are those 2 pigtailed giggling girls...I no longer see them swinging over the gate........
Can some one please get me my cocktail- yes the same one with all its components intact?
Though I had never interacted with her, she was not a nice person in a general perspective. Within the colony, the gossip never carried a favourable picture of her. It seemed she was hired as a teacher in one of the schools because she had buttered up the top management. I had heard stories that when angry in the classroom she would throw the wooden duster at the erring child's head. She was a divorcee -which added to her vampish image. When I was in the last year of school news had it that her (ex)husband had committed suicide. Local gossip again blamed her for the suicide and as a child in the vastness of the adult talk I took it more as a well proven fact than something that might be a figment of imagination of the women who had nothing better to do than talk, sitting in the winter sunshine even as their nimble fingers produced meters and meters of sweaters for their whole clans. For this whole while till today, it never occurred to me that she might be rude because her husband was not be a nice person and not vice versa. That it was not she but the husband's ill mental health that resulted in suicide. I never thought about all this because she was not important to me- maybe my mind visualized her more like a tree than a human. A solid steady tree that would be there, nurturing her garden no matter what.
Last year she had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. Gossip again ranged her cancer's intensity from one to three on a scale of three. The last time I saw her (six months ago) she seemed a bit pale than before but the haughty expression was right there - so were her flowers and the watering schedule. The combination of schedule and expression had reaffirmed my faith that she was ok and had all the time in the world to throw dusters at children, butter at the top management and her haughtiness around. That this would last forever...
My friend (who was her neighbour) called me today. We chatted and chatted like school girls and then over "aur batao, kya chal raha hai" (tell me what's new) she told me she had new neighbours. "Why are you not aware? Piggy aunty died 3 months back", when I asked her about what happened to our (not so dear) Piggy aunty. "It was a terrible terrible death - she was at the mercy of the neighbours, even as no family members came to help her. Her cancer which had spread to the intestines was so bad that she was literally rotting away...with black and white foam oozing out from where ever it could find as opening..." She said all this matter of factly...as it happens when the initial shock over bad news dies off and it becomes a fact, a statistics. Huh...maybe by tomorrow morning I shall be like her, taking death(someone else's) as a part of life.
But no, no matter how hard I try I cannot erase the shock . The shock not of her death, but of living in a cocoon of happiness thinking "Nothing ever changes in the small town that I call home- it was the same in school days and its still the same and would remain the same the next time when I am there". But some things did change, are changing. While I was busy doing nothing or maybe fbing, someone to whom I had never spoken to died, rotted away, leaving behind the thirsty flowers in the garden, the ghosts of April summers and the tring tring of bicycles...Who would we laugh at? Who would look at us sideways? Where would the smell of wet earth come from? Who would the women gossip about under the winter sun?And where are those 2 pigtailed giggling girls...I no longer see them swinging over the gate........
Can some one please get me my cocktail- yes the same one with all its components intact?
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