I Open A Window

I Open A Window

There was a faint blush on her cheeks as she set her eyes on me; most of the colour seemed to be drawn from the deep well of emotions her heart was. It seemed to be the result of an effort by her spirits rather than the voice of her conscious self. The colour courted comparison with the red bridal attire she was in.

I could almost hear her heart pounding with the thrill of touching new destinations in a while. The journey of life had not been easy for either of us so far. Although we had been through different experiences till now, life had put us together on the same coach of the same train.

We were to look out of the same window. The perception of the scene through the window was to be different for each of us, but some adjustments are always required. She was to cast herself in the mould of my lifestyle, while I was going to accept the altered faces life was to put up before me. It certainly simplifies life if one sees it as an entity that requires perpetual adjustment, where every concession has a recognised equivalent.

What mattered at that point was that she seemed to have a clear perception of what was passing through my mind even as I stood beside the bed. She held out her hand as a gesture signifying a complete comprehension of the inarticulate conflict in my mind.

I wanted time to pause there and then, or at least slow down. But the problem is that time cannot be trusted to move at a recognised pace. It moves at a customary speed, but just when one has come to count on its slow speed, it suddenly breaks into a wild irrational gallop. The moment was so beautiful that I wanted time to come to a standstill, but the truth is nothing can ever obstruct the flow of time. The monotonous drag is to continue till eternity.

Life was going to be back to square one for the rest of the world from the very next day. There were going to be the same intimate domestic noises in houses and homes, the same screeching of school-buses on the road, and life was to revert to its normal routine. The two of us were the only ones who would carry a sense of novelty into countless weeks to come.

The  very idea of facing the novelty did scare me in the beginning, but I was stimulated by the distinct force of the resolution to take the plunge. I did waver for a second, but I had to correct myself the very next moment. I was aware that every avenue of escape was now unpleasantly illuminated. I braced  myself for the challenges life was to put up before me. After all, life was going to be easier, it was going to be a great deal easier than I had imagined.  A casual look at her was all that was required to complete the message. She was the one who was going to help me stand straight in the world.

My experiences with life had taught me that the only way to maintain a firm footing in the world is to fight the world on its own terms, but I had also realized that the fight can never be won alone. The fact had the distinctness and clarity of a morning in April.

I am glad I opened a window to a new part of my life. The window is supposed to show a clear sky and a cloudy sky alternately as long as it remains open. I hope the window is never shut.

The Irrelevant Verdict

The Irrelevant Verdict

I did my best to evaluate at least some of the dreams lurking in her subconscious mind even as she sat on a chair at some distance. Neither of us were in a position to utter the final verdict there and then. The important point was that the verdict we    were to give was irrelevant. The decision had already been taken, the meeting was merely a formality.

There was a confused sense of triumph in me. I had been through so many troughs that I wasn’t expecting anything good, particularly at that point of time. There was an instinctive resistance to novelty as she entered the room, but I couldn’t help jumping with joy at the sight before me. There was a strong rush of blood in my veins.

Considering my inability to do many things my peers can, I was prepared to welcome a stark contrast to the subtle elegance that walked into the room. I was forced to mitigate the charm less picture I bore in my mind with some frivolous strokes of the brush.

The first thought that  crossed my mind was that I may not be able to fulfill all the dreams in her mind, although they were to be the most important part of my life soon. Rather, I find myself unable to work for the  fulfillment of any of her dreams. I wonder if she was aware of all that was involved in the bargain.

I drew back with a shiver from the pleasant paths through which my thoughts had been straying. I prepared to set my feet once more in the fields of celibacy, but there was no going back now. Life with me was certainly not going to be easy for her. She was good enough to ride in a Mercedes instead of trudging on foot which life with me was going to entail. But then pedestrians often enjoy the diversion of a shortcut denied to those on wheels. She may discover as much bliss and happiness in my company.

For a moment, her form and figure did flash a light down the years of my existence. I had moved on to an uncomfortable age, and yet I was beholding youth and beauty in the purest form. It is a long time since my peers and contemporaries moved on to the next level, while I have been staring at the monotonous picture of life for quite some time. I  was aware of a vague sense of failure, of an inner isolation deeper than the loneliness within me.

Life at the next level is to be like being introduced to the use of a typewriter. It does take a while in getting used to the novelty, but once one gets used to it, it is not going to be very difficult. But it isn’t going to be easy either. There were two beings in me at that moment, one drawing deep breaths of freedom and exhilaration, and the other gasping for  fresh air in a little dark prison of fears. The horizon above the captive was going to expand gradually, the air was to grow stronger and the spirit was to be free for flight. For the present, I had to get use to the novelty before me.

She was to  face the challenge of confronting a crisp, cold and hard existence which life with me was to put up before her. But I could see a rejuvenated glow on her face as she became conscious of the blush on her cheeks as she held her hand out for a glass of water. The future did appear to be bright, and all my apprehensions were swept under the carpet aboard the buoyant current of her mood.

The Forbidden Mountain

The Forbidden Mountain

The spark of youth had died down in me a long time ago; the taste of life was now quite stale on my lips. Till a few days ago, I hardly know what I wanted from life, or why failure to get it blocked the light from the sky above me. All the same, there was a crimson glow in the sky following the sunset that day. She leaned on me for a moment. I could feel her heart pounding with the thrill and ecstasy she had discovered in the past few hours.

She let her hand lie in mine as a parting favour smiling adorably at me. It made me feel vaguely embarrassed considering the presence of a dozen relatives in the room. It certainly wasn’t the ideal place for such sentimental musings, but we didn’t have a choice. The centripetal force that pulled her towards her parents only a few hours ago had been replaced by an intimate attraction towards me now.

Something throbbed between us now. We were smiling at each other like two naughty children who have climbed up a forbidden mountain atop which they discover a new world. The real world was at our feet now; it was gradually fading into ignominy. The real world would be before us as and when the novelty of our experience fades rubs itself off, we knew. It is a bad bad world out there, but we hoped to make the most of the ecstasy we had discovered in each other’s company the day before.

We were practically lost in the wild maze of inarticulate happiness we had discovered in the past few hours. We did spend some time in extracting some sentimental comforts from the  wedding-presents we unpacked. All the same, the exquisite experiences of the past few hours trembled in our veins like the Rajdhani Express; every drop of our blood extended an invitation to happiness. It was like discovering a novelty again and again.

The fact is there had been a stiff opposition to our alliance quite similar to what is seen in Hindi movies. Even though we have waded into the 21^st century, differences of caste and class continue to divide the Indian society. These divisions have certainly made life a bit easy for most of us, but for those in love, these differences have made life quite tough.

A solitude had been tacitly created for her in the crowded world. She was from an upper-caste family. It was a golden cage in which she sat huddled. It was like being in a water-tight bottle. She could clearly see birds flying freely in the world outside. She did feel a bit jealous.

The opposition to our union gathered momentum when my unemployed status came before her parents. They couldn’t trust their daughter’s happiness to me. I respected their mistrust; moreover, there was also a great difference in our ages that threatened to push our relationship to a nadir everyday. It was a love-story punctuated by innumerable commas, semi-colons and dashes. We didn’t want it to have a full-stop too.

We had to take some tough decisions. Such decisions are never easy when you are in love. You are torn between the values of the society you are brought up in and your love. The ideals, norms and values of the society seem to ask for their share in the deal to let you live happily in it.

The forbidden mountain is the only place where there are no divisions of cast and no questions of age and employment are asked. This is where happiness and laughter reign without being challenge. Let us see how long they rule the world on the forbidden mountain.

The day did end more favourably than it had begun.

When Day And Night Meet

When Day And Night Meet

          The light of the day had fled. I welcomed the twilight with open-arms as I stood by the window. I felt like someone who welcomes the end of a movie after the climax. There was a typical warmth of the sun that lingered for quite some time after the sunset in October. It was like retaining the values of a shot of a movie that has gone by even as a new one replaces the existing one.

She was sitting up straight after a hectic day. She had been introduced to a lot of new faces through the day. She was happy, though she wasn’t sure if she could have been happier. The truth is she didn’t have much of a choice.

She was symbolic of the Indian school of feminity or of Indian woman herself. She had accepted her fate. We were unlike each other, and yet the bond of marriage had brought us together. She seemed to be completely devoted to me, but I wasn’t sure if I can get over the last episode of my life anytime soon.

I’d almost run away with her. Societal dissonance and parental opposition to out union had reached a zenith when we finally decided to part ways. It was raining cats and dogs when we met for the last time. I held her hand quite tightly. This was the last time I was holding her hand, I knew. It     sent a typical thrill down my spine, something quite like the first time I held her hand.

The ecstasy negated all differences of religion and community typical to Indian society. She had a touch of rusticity in her manners that made her all the more attractive and yet widened the gorge between us.

I didn’t want to leave her hand, there seemed to be a gel that held the two of us together. I liked the utter simplicity she presented herself in. a slight blush came over her face as she got up; a sigh escaped her lips. She realized the mistake she had made, but one doesn’t weigh pros and cons when falling in love.

The torrent of rain nullified the humidity that preceded it. The weather got quite cool and pleasant when we finally decided to forego all affiliations. We didn’t have much of a choice. The Western society doesn’t frown down upon a relationship between an employer and an employee. The Indian society does.

The warmth of the sun faded away under the influence of the cool night after a while. I thought of the young lady sitting on the bed. She was to be with me through the cool night and the scorching heat of the sun. She was now a part of the most prominent shot before me. I decided to let go of the past for her sake. A cool night replaced the warm day.

With A Single Puff Of Breath

With A Single Puff Of Breath

Everything about and around the shamiyana appeared to be at ease, reciprocating the cool and pleasant weather of October; everything, except me. There was a slight trembling of the lips, and a sigh escaped the lips so softly that no one but me could hear it.

She was a fairy in a fairy-tale that was yet to begin. Her animated face spoke louder than the silence that surrounded it; it fostered in both of us an artificial indifference to the sequence of events that had occurred recently in our lives. But the indifference was to be temporary, I know. It offered a neutral period to muster strength to bear the wear and tear that time was to effect as it flows on.

I could see a nervous blush on her face as she moved out of the cool shade of celibacy into the scorching heat of marital life. She looked great in the traditional bridal attire, and yet she was not the goddess I was to worship. The warmth of her presence in the shamiyana was more comfortable than the warmth of the sun on a tingling winter day. There was a distracting wish in me to be near her, but her blood red bangles reminded me that someone else held the right now. A storm raged on  within me even as I witnessed the end of yet another infatuation.

Life was opening a new chapter for her. The nikah was to be conducted in a few hours, and the contract was going to complete the caesarean section initiated by my unemployment. She was to move on to the next level of her life, while I was to be left standing where I was. I salute her for the exemplary principles she had. She had managed to blow out all candles symbolizing youthful attractions on the cake of her youth with a single puff of breath. Somehow she knew the candles were never to be lighted again. All the same, she was to shed a lot of tears in a couple of hours. I wonder if she was going to think of me. It wasn’t going to be easy for her too, I know. It was going to be quite dark for a change, and for a change, it was going to be quite good. The darkness was going to make his form all the more attractive for her. Here was someone who had conquered the sway of time in his favour. I wasn’t sure if I should fan the jealousy I felt or not.

She could see  me quite clearly while the candles burnt. We were neighbours, and we were in love. Social and economic differences highlighted by her parents reigned supreme over all other considerations. I didn’t fit the bill prepared by her parents in any manner considering my unemployed status. My attempts to convince her parents of the merits of my educational-qualifications didn’t bear fruit. We did consider the option of running away from home, but financial constraints imposed by my unemployed status negated the option. The contention assumed such huge proportions that falling in love while being unemployed appears to be a sin.

The truth is that I’ve been unemployed for quite some time. Fate and destiny have a lot to say in these matters, and my destiny said I am to remain unemployed. I consider my peers who find employment at the outset of their careers quite lucky. I’ve only been unlucky in this quarter. My fate has something else in store for me, something much better.

The storm within me began to ebb as I too blew out the lantern that epitomized our love with a single puff of breath, and moved out of the shamiyana into the open.

Till The Sun Rises Again

Till The Sun Rises Again

I threw the newspaper on the floor in disgust: the matter at hand was graver than anything else in the world. There was a marriage-proposal for me. After all the criticism I had encountered, here was someone who considered me worthy of his daughter. Daughters are certainly the most precious possessions in the world, and I consider it an honour if one trusts one’s daughter to me. There were several queries in my mind, a lot of secrets would be exchanged in the days to come.

The opposition to matrimony I had been putting up had lost thrust now. There was a lack of fire in the denunciation of marriage I made as a consequence of the passage of time and the consequent flow of events. The  storm stirred up within me by the forces of  the devil was losing its force:  I had to plunge into the ocean now. I was terrified of the temperature-change my body was going to be subjected to as and when it came in contact with the water; it was going to be a powerful shock, but it would be alright once I get used to the water.

 The truth is that destiny has a large part to play in the game. It is pre-destined and pre-determined who I’m to marry, and when I’m to marry. Everything that happens, even the staunch opposition to matrimony I’d put up till now, and my willingness to take the plunge now were a part of the plan chalked out by The Creator. He has brought me to the individual who is going to herald a quiet and calm evening in my life.

The sun is setting over what has been the longest and the toughest part of my life. There are not many who find as much contemplative pleasure and satisfaction in a sunset as I watched the celestial event in the horizon that day. I turned my face from the spectacle if only for a few moments.

I measured the past years of my life carefully, and revered The Creator for chalking out my destiny in such a wonderful manner. No one can master the trick by which the performance has been orchestrated. Several artists have quit the stage, while quite a few await their turn behind the curtain to enact their part. A momentary turn of the head is enough to show the protagonists who insist on staying on the stage till the final act is enacted: I salute them.

The play is going to be staged even after the sunset. A long and dark night is to follow the sunset: a sunset that can be identified with human decline and death. But this has been reflected in a sunset many hundreds of times before this day. For a change, the setting of the sun is to be celebrated in a manner similar to the celebrations observed at the conclusion of forms of worship. Id-ul-Fitr and Id-ul-Azha are celebrated to mark the conclusion of forms of worship. Likewise, a festival is to be observed as I approach the end of my celibacy.

Matrimony is to mean I’m to find someone who is going to love me and only me. It is impartial and disinterested love that I crave for, and here was someone prepared to give it to me. Here was someone who was going to adjust the view from the windscreen of my life to suit my vision. I prepared myself to make a couple of changes too as I adjusted the optical lenses I use. A change may even be required to the frame of my lenses.

The sunset was followed by a catharsis similar to that when the soul departs from the body. Infact, I can feel quite a few souls departing from my body. My life has been riddled with quite a few episodes of puppy-love. This was going to be the end of all of them. All I can say is that they were not destined to be a part of me.

Fate and destiny had put all they had when it comes to the application of a shaving-razor over my life. They had brought down all stubs and had left absolutely no traces of happiness in my life. There isn’t even a moustache to symbolize a masculine smile.

The aura following the sunset remained in the horizon for a while before fading into the night. The night is merely a transitory phase, I know. There is a lot to bear and strive for as the sun rises again the next day.

The Next Day

The Next Day

The sun blazed down and down till it was within half-an-hour of its stetting. It was a hot and humid day in September. Though an air-conditioned car had replaced the erstwhile doli, yet nothing can ever dispel the affinity Indian brides have for the tears they shed during rukhsati. The drops of tears blended with the perspiration on her face; the combination threatened to spoil the make-up done at the local beauty-parlour. But all of it suddenly subsided when she joined me in the car.

The car had been decorated quite profusely to collate with the occasion. I wasn’t sure if I deserved all the attention and importance her parents were giving me.

A marriage is supposed to bring two individuals on a level platform, and yet I could sense her hovering above me in the air. I inched a bit closer to her to assure myself of her presence beside me. The days to come are not going to be easy, I can sense it in my bones.

I often see newly-wed-couples chilling out over a burger in McDonald’s. They cling each other’s hand quite tightly below the table. The freshness and novelty of marriage radiates from the young couple. I do wonder how many of them discover the eternal bliss they had bargained for. Will I be able to find it, or is it an ideal entity found only in books?

My thoughts came back to the young lady beside me as I felt her hand creeping over my hand. The car went over a pot-hole and she clutched my hand quite tightly for the sense of security associated with it. I couldn’t help smiling as I felt the powerful grip young ladies have. It reminded me of the agreement we had entered into the day before. I could visualise Zeenat in a concrete form in a couple of years. They fact is that I have a penchant for infants and the young lady holding my hand may be a solution.

There are many more problems she proposed to solve as she moved over space and time in the car seated next to me. I was going to solve some of her problems too, but her share of adversities appear insignificant as compared to mine. But it is human nature to belittle the problems others have. So, I may be helping her out of some graver issues than mine.

Like in typical Indian marriages, we knew very little of each other. The days to come were to unfurl our lives before each other. I braced myself for the many surprises to come my way. There was a typical ecstasy associated with relating and discovering dark and somber secrets; here was someone who was to narrate her secrets to me, and listen to mine.

The rear-view-mirror of the car we were in seemed to provide a glimpse of the dreams I had left behind. For a moment, I was caught by the contrast provided by my future sitting next to me, and the images of my past rushing by. I tightened my grip over her hand to affirm my eagerness to embrace the future.

We had missed the fun and excitement involved in stealthy conversations over mobile-phones. There was a lot that could be discovered through chat-sessions on messengers over the internet. Almost all youngsters do  it, but we did not.

We respected the trust and confidence our parents placed in us. I’m glad none of us violated their ideals. The young boys and girls who use technology to further their romantic dreams, in a way, violate the trust their parents place in them. We didn’t do it; we were not a part of the crowd.

The car-window provided a comprehensive view of the crowd rushing home after spending a day at work. I wanted to stand out of the crowd, if only for her sake, but I have been pushed down by time.

The twilight faded into the night as the car pulled into the railway-station. A train was to take us home, where we were to begin our lives afresh. The dawn of the next day was to find us opening the first chapter of our lives: together.

A Part Of My Future

A Part Of My Future
She had me in every single drop of her blood. I kissed her tiny palm for the hundredth time in the past few minutes. I thanked Allah for the wonderful gift in my arms. I pledged my entire life to the baby uttering her first few cries in the world.

Her tiny paws clung to my shirt as I tried to absorb the ecstasy associated with the first few moments of contact with a part of my past that was simultaneously a part of my future also. They grabbed at the frame of my glasses.

She had been a dream till yesterday, but here was a concrete reality in my arms today. The reality was screaming for my love and attention. I had crossed the threshold of time that divided yesterday’s dream and today’s reality. The yearning and longing I had had for her were now transformed into other feelings.

The reality would have to be cared for. It was going to command a lot of my time and attention from now on. I might have to change the frame of my glasses, a change I had vehemently resisted till now. After all, the world was to acquire an entirely different colour and shape now.

The change was to be manifested in my dreams too. Some fresh dreams were going to replace the old ones. Zeenat was to be the agent for clearing the bulk of emotional clutter that had accumulated over the years. The tremors of the earthquake that once shook me are to fade into complete oblivion now.

Zeenat is going to change a lot of equations in my life. The joy associated with the changing weather is going to be doubled; every drop of rain is to be welcomed now.

The Journey Begins

THE JOURNEY BEGINS

I didn't want to let it go, but it was getting dark. I did feel like a rebel while I held her hand; there was a typical ecstasy running through my veins while she was with me. But it was quite late.

The lights in the park were switched on. The evening in April did offer some twilight, and it lasted for quite some time. We were together for the first time in our lives. Beyond a formal introduction, we knew very little of each other.

While sitting on the park-bench, we did our beset to discover elements that were to hold us together for the rest of our lives. The differences would have to be accepted, but there had to be a binding-gel. Both of us did our best to discover the elements of the gel. Our lives were to change in another twenty-four hours.

For a moment, I shuddered at the very thought. This was to mean several of my secrets would be out of the closet, while she would not be in a position to guard her share of secrets too. I did wonder if her secrets were a dark and somber as mine even as I witnessed the twilight fading into the night.

The transition was symbolic of the change in my life. While I did enjoy the diversity of cymbals life provides to its subscribers, I was getting a bit weary of it. Here was someone who had the potential to block all the unpleasant vibes that time still had in store for me. But the onslaught of time was to pause for a while now.

It was going to be a momentary relief, I know. Life has never been bereft of pains, and it wasn't going to be anything different with the new phase of my life. The twists and turns in my life were only to take a new form. There would certainly be some excitement while the novelty lasts, but it would eventually be replaced by the monotony of life.

Life is supposed to keep moving aboard the bus of time. There are always hitches and bumps as the bus goes over pot-holes and speed-breakers. Many passengers get on the bus only to leave it after a short while. Some travel long distances, but very few complete the entire journey of the bus. The young lady whose hand I had been holding was to be among the few who would complete the journey with me. I only hope the journey is a smooth one from now on.