Recall

Recall

 

 

I was just walking one day on the busy streets of Mumbai city. I was listening to some music and making up a story in my head while observing everything that was happening around. The weather was pleasant with less humidity than usual. Suddenly, I saw a man sitting on the footpath. He had an unbelievable aura around him. A bright circle of light was shining around his neck. I stopped by to look at it.

I was free that day and I still wasn’t able to figure out much about the story I was making. I decided to go and talk to that man. I had time to kill and I thought maybe I will get something out of him.

 

 I went to him and in a very polite tone I asked, ‘Sir, do you mind if I join you?’

‘Yes sure’, he replied in a firm voice.

‘What do you want to know’, he asked with a blank face.

‘How do you know that I want to know something?’ I asked hesitatingly.

‘Well don’t complicate things, I just guessed since you asked to join me’, he replied casually.

‘I am working on a story but I am badly stuck so I thought you might help me’, I said.

‘You are right, I can help you’, he replied with assurance.

‘You see we think we are writing a story, but we are not. We are writing what is already there. How can it be a creation? It is just a recollection of what you have gone through. So, I would suggest you recall what you have seen during the day or during the last month and write everything down. See, the one who is reading it will make a story out of it. He has to since he has invested his time. So don’t bother. Just write’, he finished with a bright smile on his face.

 

I thanked the man and walked away. I was in shock. I have gotten the best advice from a person whom I thought as a piece of observation. I went back to my home and followed his advice. I wrote about the day. And now I leave it to you, the readers, to make out a story.

Curious eyes…

Curious eyes…

 

 

It was a bright day in a village, which was situated very far away on an island. Only around fifty people lived in that village. The food and lifestyle habits of people in that village were very simple. The village was inside the green forest. There were big trees all around and wild animals. The work was distributed evenly among everyone.  Some took care of the safety from the wild animals and the rest of them arranged for food.

In the night people will sing songs and talk. Generally, they would talk about the life beyond the waters. They had boats but they never managed to see the other side of the shore. They were very curious about the things they didn’t know. They didn’t have the means to satisfy their curiosity.  The bright day had now turned into a dark night. All eyes locked their curiosity inside.

A big explosion was heard. Everyone woke up and ran to find out about it. A big plane was coming from the sky towards them. It was burning like a ball of fire. Soon, the entire island was on fire along with the people.  Those people died with curiosity in their eyes. Far away, on the other side of the shore, people read about the missing plane. Within days the news was forgotten. People got back to their lives. The uninterested people will never know about those people who died with curiosity in their eyes.

The same old story…

The same old story…

 

 

It was a silent night. The time was around 2 AM. I closed the book I was reading and started writing a story. I wanted to write about crime, money, and corruption. I chose myself as the main protagonist and started thinking.

In the story, I am a poor guy who lives in a small shed in the slum area of Mumbai. I have no work, I beg on the streets for my daily bread. One day when I am standing on the street, I see a car stopping. Three men stepped outside. After a few minutes, another car stopped right behind the first one. A man stepped outside from it with a big suitcase. He gave that suitcase to one of the three men standing and then he left.

The three men started discussing something and soon they were shouting. One of them pulled out a gun and shot the other two. The suitcase fell down. The third man was about to run with the suitcase, but some police officers came from behind in their jeep. The man ran leaving the suitcase behind and the police followed him.

I took that suitcase and looked around. There was an old beggar sitting on the opposite side of the road. He was looking all this while, I realized. But he didn’t react. I ran away with the suitcase.

That suitcase was loaded with cash. I, later on, became a businessman with that money and earned a name for myself. It was a stroke of fate that changed my life. I wanted more money. I started blackmailing and extortion. I looted big politicians and businessmen. I abducted the children and asked for money in return. One day I went to the same street for exchanging money on which I found that suitcase.

The beggar was still sitting on the opposite side. He was a lot older now. But his eyes were still the same. I took my money and left. With time I became more powerful. I decided to form my own party and work for the country as a politician. With the power and money I had, it was not a difficult task. Soon, I had power, money, and fame, everything that I asked for I got. I started feeling like a god. People came to me in thousands asking for help.

But from the inside, I was at my weakest. I was not able to sleep at night.

It was 2:15 AM. Only this much I was able to think. I didn’t know how to end the story. It was the same old story. I thought about it for one hour more. I didn’t find anything interesting. I closed my laptop. I closed my eyes and the only thing I could think of was that man sitting on the opposite side of the street.

That one incident.

That one incident.

 

 

I woke up in the morning and looked around. The room was filled with sunlight and I could see dust particles flying over my head, arranged in arrays. I removed my blanket and was about to get up from the bed when I heard some strange noises. I was scared as there was no one in the house.

I stayed in bed for a few more minutes. I looked around my room and realized that someone was here. All my things were messed up. Nothing was stolen as such. I went to check the outside door and found out that it was perfectly locked. There was no way anybody could have entered the house.

I tried to recollect my previous day’s memories. And I realized that the room was arranged perfectly before. I was terrified because of the room’s present condition. I went to work after some time and tried to forget this incident.

It has been 25 years. That incident is still fresh in my mind and I still don’t know who was present there that night. But today I am not terrified. I am curious. I am anxious. Sometimes I just mess up my room and live that incident in the morning. I try to forget that I was the one who messed it up. And my wife gives me medicine thinking that I am suffering from Alzheimer.

 

Disentangle…

Disentangle…

 

A woman is sitting on the front verandah of her house, trying to disentangle a long thread. She is totally involved in her work. Her face is wrinkled and dull, her eyes will take one to abysmal depths of pain and suffering. There is calmness in her breath. She has finally made peace with life.
A young man aged around 25, came rushing from his room. He is tall and has brown skin. He lambasted his mother who was sitting on the verandah. ‘How can he spend this much money on his portfolio?’ he asked. He has hardly made any progress on his acting career. I have spent enough and I want my money back.
‘He is your little brother son, he needs your help’, his mother replied. ‘He will definitely pay you back. Just give him some time.’
The little brother, aged around 20 came outside his room yawning. He sat near his mother. He asked, ‘why does he always behave like that?’
‘He loves you’, his mother replied. ‘He is just tensed. That’s all.’
‘But father left all this money for both of us. Why is he in charge of everything? I want to spend my money according to my wish. Why can’t I do that?’, he asked disappointingly.
The mother started shouting loudly, ‘You should be thankful to your brother. He has made a lot of money with the little your father left. He has been spending a lot of money on you as well. And now I will tell him to stop giving you money. You don’t deserve it.’
The big brother hears everything and says, ‘Mother, don’t shout at him, he is my little brother. I will do everything to make his dreams come alive. He has all the right to my money.’
Both the brothers hugged each other with teary eyes.
Their mother went outside. She sat on the verandah and got back to disentangling the thread.

Free within the mind…

Free within the mind…

She came rushing inside the house breathing heavily. Fear was dancing on her face. She directly went to her room without talking to anyone.

What was there to talk?

Some men kept looking at her on the bus stop. So what?

They can look. They have their own eyes and a right to look.

But why was she feeling as if in a cage.?

It was the same feeling as when in the childhood we had bad dreams about being alone in the jungle and all the animals chasing us from different directions. She felt exactly the same. But she was helpless.

She might have told her parents, but she knew that nothing will change. It was not just the bus stop. These happenings followed her everywhere, only the faces changed.

The next day when she went for a walk, she heard whispers, of men talking. She knew they were looking at her and were talking about her. She increased her speed. Once they were out of sight she took a deep breath.

She was sitting on the bus stop and was looking worried. She knew some eyes were still following her. But she never looked in another direction, she just kept looking downwards until the bus arrived.

Almost 69 years have passed, since we, as a country got freedom. But as she was sitting in the bus she was not free. She was caged by those eyes which followed her every step. She was scared of what might happen next.

But at the same time, a war started inside her, a war demanding freedom, not as a country, but freedom of the soul. Those eyes will soon suffer the blow of the mightiest power.

And it is not the fight of women. It is the fight of every single soul who deserves to be free. Free not just by boundaries but free within the mind.

“Do something”

“Do something”

I was just sitting and analyzing some random thoughts when I heard a voice. The voice was very low and I was unable to comprehend it. The room in which I was sitting was filled with sun rays which were coming from a huge window on the left side of the room. Dust particles were dancing in front of the sun rays. There was a sudden hotness in the surroundings due to the sunlight and I was feeling depressed.

That voice was now repeating frequently, it felt as if someone was there trying to say something to me. My eyes were trying to spread their vision by staring at the sunlight.  I was afraid to go to the other room and look for the source of that voice. I just sat there feeling more depressed. Outside of my window I saw people on roads, walking, driving, talking, shouting, and living. I just kept looking at them for some time.

I tried to take my mind away from that voice, but it was impossible. I was not even able to look for its source, my fear was acting as a despot and was ruining my mood. I then got lost in a thought. The thought of never being able to do anything in life.  I was still wondering without any clue about what to do next.

The entire day passed, and I was still battling with that voice. I felt as if something was seriously wrong with me. The sun rays were gone. I was still able to see outside my window, the streets were full of light, and people were still doing their respective jobs. As I diverted my attention to my room, I was devastated. Darkness was now in power, ruling over my room.

The voice was still there, but now I was a little bit more depressed. There were no particles of dust dancing in sun rays, there were no sun rays, there was no hope. The voice was now rustling inside my head with higher frequency. I looked outside at those people who were still doing their jobs, and I felt relieved that they are there. But I knew that night was approaching and they will soon be heading towards their homes, and I got scared.

A few hours passed and the voice now was ruling over my mind, my mind was caged. There was total darkness inside my room. I looked outside the window. There was no one outside. I was terrified. The voice was killing me, and it felt like I was at the verge of dying, my thoughts were suffocated inside the prison created by that voice. It kept playing again and again. And then I lost it, I surrendered myself to the surroundings. I was laying on my bed and that voice became clear. It said, “ Do something”, I woke up and walked towards the door and switched on the light to again witness the dust particles dancing, and the voice was gone.

In the heart…

In the heart…

It was a bad day at school, she was maligned by her classmates again, her only fault was that she looked ugly. She was only 16 years old, and every day when she left for school, she knew that she had to fight, in order to survive. And most of the time she prevented any banters with her classmates by staying away, but she had to sit and learn with them. Somewhere in her mind she accepted her situation, because she had much more in her than every one around. She had a curious mind with immense potential to learn.

On the way home she was pondering about her life, and suddenly one of her classmates “Arjun”  came rushing towards her. He opened his bottle and poured water all over her head and then ran away.

After few seconds, his friends came and they all started laughing together.

“She is still dirty”, one of Arjun’s friend commented.

“don’t worry, next time I will make her clean”, Arjun replied.

“Now please give me my money”, he demanded.

It was a victory for Arjun, he won the bet, but for her it was humiliating. And she cried after reaching her home. In the night she was not able to sleep, she was feeling disgusted.

The next day when she entered the class, everybody started laughing over the previous day’s incident. The teacher came inside and everybody dipped their heads in their books.

It was Mr jacob’s period, he was a very good professor. And she liked him very much, he taught really well according to her. And she could ask anything from him and he will answer gracefully.

Mr Jacob was teaching about properties of light, and how do we see objects and nature.

“Sir”, she raised her hand and called.

“yes dear”, please ask.

“sir, how can I be sure that the way I see a particular thing or colour, everybody else sees it in the same way?”, she asked in a firm voice.

“well, what do you mean”, Mr Jacob inquired.

“Sir, suppose the garden outside is green, and I see it as green, but someone else might be seeing it in a different colour, how can I then be sure that my green is same as the other person’s green?”, she asked confidently.

“dear, it is a very thoughtful question, but you see every colour has a different wavelength which can be measured experimentally, and hence the colour green also has a particular wavelength, and so that wavelength will be same for you and the other observer, since the garden reflects only that wavelength”, Mr Jacob answered.

“but sir, even if the wavelength Is same, there is a possibility that what I see as green, can be different from what that other person sees. The other person might see my green as his or her blue. And hence what we see, is actually dependent on us.”, she replied.

Mr Jacob took a deep breath and pondered for a few seconds.

And then said, “ you might have a point in that girl”.

She then asked, “ so sir, is it then possible that what we see, is only our projection of something, and it may not be the truth.”

“ yes definitely, it doesn’t have to be the truth”, Mr Jacob replied.

The class started giggling and Arjun stabbed her with his book and said, “ stop, you dumbo.”

She didn’t hesitated.

She asked Mr jacob again, “ sir, so what I see as beautiful and dirty is just my perspective, and it is my perspective which is dirty if I see something as dirty?”

She looked at Arjun while saying this, as if she was making a statement.

“ yes, absolutely right dear”. Mr jacob nodded.

“Dirty are the eyes that sees dirty, and beautiful are the eyes that sees beauty”, Mr jacob stated.

The bell rang, and she went towards the door smiling. She looked at Arjun and he ignored her. He was looking embarrassed.

She was a girl, who had dreams, and she was beautiful. She has no name in particular, she lies in the heart of every girl.

Now I know…..

Now I know…..

 

What you see is not always the truth, sometimes eyes can be misleading. Haughtiness over senses is devastating. I was walking towards my house from work, and i saw her standing, looking down from the window of a dimly lit house. Usually you remember your localities very well, but strangely I was unable to locate that house in my memory. I felt may be I was misguided by my mind, but any ways this was not a big thing to worry about.

That night when I was about to sleep, I suddenly thought of that unusual lady living in that peculiar house. And I started to wonder about what might she be doing in that house alone, or may be she has company, but something in her look told me that she was waiting for someone. But why I was interested in her life was the most important question.

In the morning when I was going to work, I tried to find that house and the lady. I looked around everywhere but she and her house was missing. And then my mind was in a state of shock. My obdurateness was defeated. Was it magic or something else? I was unable to understand anything. I just decided to not tell anyone about it, because I knew others will not understand.

But that lady and her house still haunts me, its been thirty years since that incident, but that memory is still fresh. I am lying on my hospital bed and suddenly a bright flash appeared in front of my eyes. I woke up in my living room, my mother was looking through the window, she was waiting for my father, who died when I was ten years old. And then I realized that the house that was haunting me was my own house, it was dull because at that time we hardly survived. And that lady was my mother.My mind was  devastated , I looked at myself and I was ten years old. I then fainted. And now in the hospital I have a memory of that time, when I fainted in my own house. Only difference is that now I know why I fainted.