Saturday, 24 November 2012

Blood Ties


Rohit and Ansha were the perfect couple in college. Both were in the final year. Both were studious yet active in extracurricular activities, they both shared the same passion for drama and were part of the theatrical group in the college. Both were quite popular in college, as active students and for being the toppers of their respective branches.  They both were kind at heart and a genuine and decent person. Their relationship started when they took part in a play together. In a particular scene, Rohit who was playing the role of a goon, was supposed to slap Ansha and drag her by her hairs. During the rehearsals, Rohit accidentally pulled at her hair quite forcefully and Ansha screamed out loud. Rohit was very apologetic and said sorry. After the rehearsal, in order to make up for the mistake Rohit requested Ansha to go out with him for a cold drink in the college canteen. Sipping cold drink, while walking from the canteen towards Ansha's hostel, amidst a cool breeze in that summer evening, they both felt an instant connect between them. Ansha was attracted towards the simple yet decent personality of Rohit, while Rohit fell for her exuberance, her mature way of thinking and her infectious smile. The rehearsals continued, with the rehearsals their attraction towards each other also increased.





The play was a huge hit when it was screened in the Indian Habitat Center. Whole of the crew was jubilant. They went for a party to celebrate the success of the play. Throughout the party. Rohit proposed to Ansha after the party, she consented. 

As it happens in college, first their best friends got to know about it, and then gradually it spread. Pretty soon everybody in the college was aware of it. Whoever met Rohit congratulated him; similar was the case with Ansha. Everyone believed they both were perfect for each other. So when the news of their break up started spreading in the college, no one could believe it at first. But then they started noticing that, Rohit and Ansha were no longer seen together sitting on the stairs of the open area theatre, or taking long walks in the college campus during evening, or gorging on chole bhature sitting in the canteen. Rohit left his room in hostel and took a rented room outside the college campus, he said every minute he spends in the campus he is reminded of Ansha and he doesn't like it. Rohit became very ir-regular in terms of studies also. He was throughout absent in the mid semester exams as well. He didn't even sit for placement drives. While Ansha too got quite irregular with her studies, she fared poorly in the mid semester exams, earlier she used to be the heart of her group, nowadays she seldom smiled. Her friends tried to talk her out of this, but with no use. The breakup had affected both of them. Pretty bad. 

Rohit used to come to college after gap of many days, and didn't even used to sit for the whole class. His professors were surprised at this sudden change in one of their finest students. Few of the faculties even tried talking to Rohit about this uncharacteristic ir-regularity in his studies, but it was of no use. 

It was one of those rare days when Rohit had come to college. in earlier times, at this point of the day one could see Rohit sitting with this group in the canteen, joking and laughing loudly or doing some work related to the technical society of their branch. But today, Rohit was sitting alone in a corner of the canteen. He didn't even look like his former self. He had become skinnier than before, which was an indication that he was neglecting his meals. He looked clearly sleep deprived. He was absent mindedly fiddling with the spoon dipped in the bowl of the chow mien. just then a group of girls sit on the nearby table. they were talking with each other in an excited tone. just then one girl spoke for the first time,

"Guys i am not feeling well. i am going to the hostel"

This voice was very close to Rohit's heart. It was Ansha's voice. Instinctively Rohit turned back and saw Ansha getting up from the table, picking her bag up. Their eyes met for a brief second. They both were a bit taken aback on running into each other like this. Rohit tried to ignore her and concentrated in his bowl of chow-mien. Ansha thought for a moment then dropped her bag on the table and went up to Rohit's table. She took a chair without asking for Rohit's permission. Rohit looked up from the bowl of the chow-mien. 

Ansha, " hi"

Rohit was silent.

Ansha," see, it's fine if you don't want to continue with the relationship, but what you are doing to yourself and your career is nothing good"

Rohit was still silent and was looking down in his bowl of chow-mein. 

Ansha hesitated for a moment then continued, “many time relationships do not work. But that doesn't mean we should completely renounce everything we have and mourn all our life. Just because we were in a relationship, why should it stop us from being friends?"

Rohit was still silent but his breathing was getting heavier and quicker. 

Ansha," and forget about friendship, you must at least care for yourself. i heard you didn't gave mid semesters, you're not sitting for placements even. it's okay if you broke up with me without even a phone call, but please stop destroying your life. you don't even..............////////"

Rohit hit the bowl of the chow mien with a fierce blow. It went flying out of the table, hit a guy sitting on the side table fell down to the floor and rolled some distance before coming to a halt. he pushed the table away from his and stood up. Then he shouted. 

Rohit shouted, "GET AWAY FROM ME .............BITCH"

Ansha was shocked, she or for that matter  no one has ever heard Rohit using any slang word. To use slang word at Ansha that too at top of his voice in a crowded canteen, it was the most unthinkable action from Rohit. 
Rohit grabbed his bag and stormed out of the canteen. Ansha was on the verge of breaking down to crying. The girls from Ansha's group came around her and took her to hostel.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Abhimanyu or Abhi was the best friend of Rohit. They were close to each other right from their first year. Them being roommates in the first year was by chance, but in  later years they took rooms adjacent to each other by choice. Those who didn't know better could have easily mistaken them to be brothers. Abhi  was the one with whom Rohit first shared his liking towards Ansha. In fact it was Abhi who gave him the idea of proposing Ansha after the celebration party. When Rohit and Ansha got committed, it was Abhi who was the happiest. After the break up when Rohit decided to leave the hostel room and get a room outside Abhi tried to talk him out of it. But when Rohit didn’t budged he helped him to move his stuff to the room outside. When Rohit missed out the mid semester exams and few placements drives it was Abhi who at first tried to contact him on the phone, when he couldn't reach him on the phone, he went to his room to meet him, but the landlord said Rohit had gone to his place. Rohit had shut himself off from everyone. But that evening when Abhi heard about the incident at canteen, he could no longer stop himself. he went to Rohit's room.

it was around 7 pm in the month of December. It was quite dark. Rohit's new accommodation was a small one room flat with attached bathroom and kitchen. Abhi had tried to dissuade Rohit from taking this flat, but Rohit didn't listen to him. 

Abhi knocked on the door. A disoriented voice came from the inside. ," what is it...?”

Abhi, "open up, i am Abhi."

This was followed by a silence for around 2-3 minutes.

Abhi knocked again. 

Rohit, “i am coming. Wait up"

He opened the door after another 3 minutes.

Rohit, "how come you are here?? What happened??"

Abhi,” may i come in??"

Rohit, (moving to a side) , "yeah, sure. Come in"

Abhi, “you tell me, what has happened to you?? Why you are doing this to yourself. ? Why your number always comes out of service?? Why don't you come to college?? "

Rohit, (smiled wryly)," i am taking a break"

Abhi, “bull- shit. don't tell me you are taking a break in your 7th semester of engineering. and what happened with Ansha today at the canteen?? since when did you start misbehaving with girls and calling them a bitch??"

Rohit, "you want some tea??  wait i will make for you"

Abhi, "i do not want tea. you tell me why are you ding this?? "

Rohit," you must have tea, it's sort of cold outside"

Abhi (snapping at last) , " to hell with your tea. Answer my questions...??? why are you throwing your perfect life away??? where is that ever smiling , batch topping Rohit whom we all loved so much..?? why are you doing this..??? "

Rohit too got angry, for the second time in one day, “GET OUT FROM THIS ROOM. GET OUT...RIGHT NOW..."

He actually came up to Abhi and held him by his arms and tried shoving him out of his room. Abhi was too strong for him, he freed himself from Rohit's clutch, and shoved him back. Rohit went few steps backwards. Abhi expected Rohit to be stronger than this. Rohit took some time to get his balance back. Then he came towards Abhi and hit him with a punch on his face. Though the punch was weak but still Abhi was taken aback. He never expected Rohit to hit him. 

Rohit," get out from here. Before i end up hurting you." 

Abhi just stared at Rohit for few seconds, then he left the room. Rohit closed the door in a hurry. He was suppressing this for quite some time. He ran straight to the wash basin in the bathroom and started coughing. 

Like every time, the initial few coughs were normal, but the intensity grew with each coughs. Rohit felt as if his rib cage will break down. Each and every muscle from his abdomen to his throat were strained. After few more coughs, it blood started sputtering out from his mouth...like every time. 3 months earlier, Rohit went to a hospital to give blood to one of his friends who met with an accident. The doctors tested Rohit's blood and found he had blood cancer. Rohit requested the doc to keep it confidential. He did not wanted everybody around him to be overtly sympathetic towards him. From the day he was diagnosed with cancer, he stopped taking Ansha's calls. He did not have the courage to break up with her face to face. He thought if he ignore her long enough, she will ultimately get over him. With his attitude he got everyone to hate himself, except Abhi, and today, Abhi too was gone.

As he continued coughing, the blood kept on coming out. The white wash basin was covered in red spots of blood. It continued for around 7-8 minutes. Rohit was completely exhausted by the end of it. He sat down on the floor of the bathroom, taking back support against the wall. He folded his knees over his chest, wrapped his arms around his knees. He was grimacing with pain. He leaned his head backwards... and he wept..... All night.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Few days later Rohit again went to college. He was sitting at the same corner seat in the canteen. since the incident with Ansha at the canteen, no one ever tried talking with him. He was again fiddling with the spoon in his bowl of chow mien.

Suddenly he felt a soft and warm touch on his left hand. he looked to his side. It was Ansha. She sit down by his side, again without asking for his permission. Rohit was a bit surprised. He thought the way he behaved with her last time she will definitely not try talking with him again, actually that was his plan. But here she was, sitting by his side, holding his left hand in her warm and reassuring hands and looking at him with those lovely eyes whic meant the world to Rohit. Rohit wanted to say something, but this time he felt a hand on his right shoulder. He looked to his right, it was Abhi. 

Rohit , " what are you guys doing here??"

There was something about the way Abhi was looking at him, that Rohit couldn't continue further. 

Abhi," i know bhai. I told Ansha also. "

Rohit, waving off Abhi's hands off his shoulder, " know what??"

Abhi, "that day when you hit me and threw me out of your room, I knew something was wrong. Remember when we went trekking in our second year, you gave me your parent's numbers. I still have that number with me. I wanted to call aunty ji earlier, but i thought i shouldn't bother her. But seeing you that day, i couldn't  stop myself. I called her up and told her about your state. Initially she too didn't wanted to tell me anything but then she couldn't do it any further. She told me everything about your cancer" 

Rohit was listening quietly. He looked at Ansha, her eyes were moist and a streak of tear was running down her cheeks. 

Abhi, "you know what the sad part is??? if you had let us know, you won't have had to spend the last few months like this. You deserved better than this. WE deserved better than this." 

Rohit wiped the tears off Ansha's cheeks and said, " I am sorry, i didn't mean to hurt you." 

He then looked at Abhi. Abhi was struggling to put up a smiling face. He just patted Rohit on the back and said, " I must leave before it becomes too mushy". 

Both Rohit and Ansha smiled.  

The Final Destination


 It was only 2pm and yet was getting dark as though late evening. The cemetery looked eerie. The thick foliage that covered the ground now seemed a bit foggy. Anywhere he looked; it seemed he was looking from behind an old plastic sheet, scrounged and with lines running all over. Colors were getting blurred and greyed out, blending into the haze of the fog. The candle lit in the wall alcove of that abandoned room was lit. The muddy walls of the room reflected golden yellow under the candle light. The road stretch seemed to be getting dissolved at a few meters away. The dissolving line appeared to be snaking towards his feet. Not much of an option was left for him other than getting inside that room inside the cemetery where the fog had not yet reached.
Would he be able to make it till there?
Would he survive inside the room till the gloom descended? Would he be able to make it out of there? Alive?
Would the gloom descend ever?
Would he survive?

“I see you”

The wall clock chimed 2 in the afternoon. Funny one liners she had recorded in place of the monotonous alarm rings that filled her study from hour to hour. “Pep me ups” she called those. Naueid was reading a horror flick. Hot mug of chicken soup tasted just about right in that post autumn; almost winter afternoon. The killer Delhi summer was taking a break. It was calm. The sky outside her study was turning grey. Reluctantly, she turned her head to left to notice the sun greying out in the horizon. Post fall, when the length of the days shorten, the sun travelled faster towards the horizon and stayed less up there in the sky. Usually, wind blew early morning onward. Today, there was none. The stillness was uncomforting. It seemed the words were jumping straight out of her book to fill the outscape.

Sitting in her light blue smock with “cows don’t do mornings” written all over with doodled black n white cows printed covered Naueid till over her knees. Her shoulder length silky tresses were half dry after having being rinsed in Pantene. She had crushed some rose petals and the resultant aroma was magical. Her hazel brown eye balls were roving over the lines of page 31 of “Unreal realistic” in urgency to complete the read…

Rrriiinnngggg! “message alert”

Naueid turned her head to left to grab her cellphone. The screen read “1 new text message”. She pressed the centre jog dial key to “open” the message.

“Chirp… crirp… chirp” went her doorbell.

The text message went unread. She flipped the pages to close the book. The soup mug was empty at the bottom with the contents decanted at its rightful place, inside Naueid’s mouth. Slipping her toes into red slippers, she thought those seemed a shade darker, almost the color of blood. Shaking her head at the absurdity of the possibility, she walked down the gallery. The words from the book were playing her mind too.

“Chirp… crirp… chirp” went the doorbell again.

“How impatient… uff!” she thought.

At the other side of the door, there stood a beautiful lady grinning at Naueid.

“Surprise!”

Naueid blinked. She was indeed surprised and pleasantly at that.

“Naueid, won’t you ask me in?” A tease played up the lady’s pinkish mauve lips.

Stepping aside, Naueid let her childhood and best friend since long, Naeid in. A little bit of acid smell trying to overtake her best friend's favorite fragrance, Marks n Spencer Perlier dafted inside her apartment.

Naueid was beyond ecstatic, like every time she felt when Naeid came visiting her. They went on to pile themselves on the living room couch. Naueid’s living room was done up well with shells and handmade wall hangings displayed all over. Money plants sat around in ceramic vases all around to tastefully add green, making it a very lively place to sit in. One of the walls was completely glass; floor to ceiling, wall to wall. Long threads of plastic flowers hung over it. The sun was nomore visible. The weather outside was turning foggy. It was really early for that for it wasn’t even November. But Naueid didn’t care much.

“How is Taufeeq?”, asked Naueid. Her best friend was married to her childhood sweetheart.

“Oh well, we would talk to him after I speak with you. I wanna surprise him for he doesn’t know what’s cooking...”, Naeid’s face was glowing in mock humor and looked even somewhat cocky.

“hmmm”, not knowing what was coming, that’s all Naueid could manage to say.

“C’mon, you better get going already”, Naeid almost pulled Naueid to sit beside her.

“Where to…?”

“Dream destination, where else?”

Since a few years, Naueid wanted to travel off-shore and probably even settle down too. Till May of that year she didn’t have a passport, so she never voiced her desire out aloud. Her best friend knew her things a little too well for any comfort of anonymity; and hence, any requirement of fabrication to save face. The two of the friends sat down to discuss about their “flying” plans. It was already dark as though past midnight. Naueid looked out of the living room window to notice how still it had become, vividly colored from the full grown flowering trees; but, motionless, as though that were a painting on a canvass.

“Are you ready for this?”, asked Naeid.

“Of course I am”, Naueid was infact more than just been ready.

Naeid touched her friend on her knee. Naueid flinched a bit; something acidic was filling her nose. Naeid came closer and Naueid thought she was about to kiss her. A raw pain stiffened Naueid’s bones as Naeid opened her mouth large enough to swallow her best friend’s face whole. All that was left in the room was haze. The living room view was as though packeted inside a plastic sheet... blurring the outlines of the objects displayed there. The floor was snaking towards the ceiling. It was all so foggy.

Naueid’s cellphone lay on the ground. The text message was sent from Naeid’s cell that Naueid never got to read read:

Naied met with an accident… couldn’t make it to the hospital… We lost her on the way. Taufeeq.
Outside the living room window, the haze was clearing. The sun shone and the acid smell was gone. From inside the reading room, the clock chimed “Gotcha this time!”

Sunday, 28 October 2012

FUTILE EXISTENCE

Expressing joy seeing a new- born;
mourning at a being’s passing away,
animatedly, we lead our sordid lives-
we continue to live without a way.

waking up- at the dawn
tired, we sleep at nights.
carelessly we go on breathing:
we care not; as we live and then- die.

Foolishly, we “join” our pleasure n pain
with things external; that- of mortal fame.
Knowing your gain maybe someone’s pain;
yet, we go on celebrating in vain.

Have you questioned an unfortunate?
Why he doesn’t cry or smile?
Has he already renounced the affections?
Or is it that he has become the divine?

We dwell in riches that brings us glory,
the ultimate extravagant luxury.
We grief equally when we lose a body:
why cry when money can buy all that we need?

All we do is to breathe and live,
to survive; be mean and care for our own being.
How without a purpose we continue to live:
remaining consumed in our selfish Bliss! 

Olivia

Monday, 15 October 2012

The Final Trance


The sixth second of the sixth minute. The digital watch showed 06:06:06 p.m. He laughedsilently at himself as he checked out his watch which clearly reflected the cynical mirth of God.An inauspicious speck in such an auspicious moment…… Subconsciously, his mind raced back toa poem that a very beautiful teacher had taught him in his tenth standard:
Life is a prism of His Light, and
Death is a shadow of His Face.

What was her name? He could not remember. He couldn’t remember many other things. Things that he should have kept in mind. Every memory was a blurred panorama of indistinct images fading in and out and everything around him seemed like an indecipherable code that could never be unravelled. Ishaan experienced another tremendous bout of cough. This was the third time he had coughed blood that day. He felt weak and exhausted. Deceived by a cruel joke life had played on him; defeated, because he had succumbed to it.

They say that during the very last instants of one’s life, one moves down the echelons of incidents down the memory lane. Incidents and memories of the long since forgotten childhood, of youth, all the laughter and tears, all the infatuations and heartbreaks, times of détente and tension , the sunny and the cloudy moments of life and many other loom out of the dark caverns of the subconscious…..

Somewhere, from very far, he could hear the drums. The unmistakable, musical thud of the drumstick by the “Dhaki” or the drum-player. It was Dashami of Dusshera and the Goddess was being carried to be immersed in Ganges. Leafing down the pages of nostalgia, Ishaan travelled a decade back…….

The sky looked as if it was smeared with vermillion. The twelve-year old Ishaan looked up and saw a flock of birds fly back to their nests. And as the sunset ardoured rest and peace, the silent ambiance was shattered merrily by the same queer music of the drums. The sound that always made the adrenaline pump inside him. Abandoning his blue, air-borne kite, he ran out of the house to the Durga Temple, a few steps from his home. From outside the temple, he could see his mother, a fair, petite woman clad in a white saree with a crimson border, a circle of vermillion on her forehead akin to the setting sun in the western horizon. A young girl about his age, he recognized to be his new next door neighbor, dressed in a yellow salwar kameez, walked past him and as their eyes met, she turned crimson, hung her head and walked away smiling silently……..

Thoughts faded out and faded in into new reveries…….

He waited anxiously in the Internet Café after typing his serial number, his parents by his side. Slowly and slowly, the webpage unfurled……..the seconds seems like eternity…… when finally it appeared…… His matriculation results… “Ma! “, He exclaimed,” I got 94 in English!” 
------------------------------------
The drawing room had a heavy atmosphere about it. He sat and eyed the torn pieces of his first ever love letter to his first ever crush….. Were they mere pieces of paper? No! They were scraps of his heart which she had mercilessly torn and walked away. A tear trickled down the fifteen year-old’s eyes….
---------------------------
Ishaan felt something gnawing at his insides as if he were a log of wood attacked by termites. No pain in this world is greater than the constant feeling of getting self-consumed, when all the vitality metamorphoses into a venomous potion that streak throughout the body and mind. He looked at his blood-stained handkerchief which had his initials beautifully sewn in blue and pink thread on one corner. A name flashed in his tranced, preoccupied mind, like a distinguished voice above chaotic noise----- Rohini…….

Ishaan’s mind was zooming in and out. Terms like “Aldol”, “Ketones”, Cannizarro Reaction” buzzed from one cerebral hemisphere to the other. Nitesh, his friend, slapped him on the shoulder exclaiming exhausted, “Man! That was the longest class ever! Vijay Sir taught us for about two and a half hours today!”
“Looked like he was immersed in Organic Chemistry today”, piped in Sharad.
“Well said, man”, Ishaan said, sharing their exhaustion, “But I’d better hurry now. Got to study for the Integration test ahead.”
“You sure you’ll miss all the fun pouring over stupid calculations while we hog on popcorn watching PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: AT WORLD’S END, and do “bird-watching” in the intervals?” lured Vineet, the handsomest of the lot.
“I’ve already watched it along with my cousins at the Inox”, he lied.
“The movie or the birds?”, teased Sharad, “By the way, what’s the hurry, dude? Nature’s call??”
“Whatever!” , Ishaan grimaced and left the scene.


The Haldiram’s Food plaza was exclusively bright and exceptionally crowded that day. He spinned a full 360 degrees and scanned all around…..no positive signs…. “Could she have left?” he shuddered, even to think about it….when he felt a soft tap on his shoulders. There she was! The Snow White of his Life! His angel……Rohini.
“You’re late”. She said, furrowing her recently plucked eyebrows. He loved it when she looked at him that way. He could not suppress a grin. She wore a red top that contrasted spectacularly with her milky-white complexion, and her favorite pair of light blue jeans. She had a usual hint of kohl in her intelligent, almond-shaped eyes. He simply couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“I know, he said sheepishly, “My Prof’s in love with Aldehydes”
“At least he is concerned about his love life, whatever that may be, and works overtime with it”, she said, trying really hard to maintain a straight face.
“Come on now, this is our first anniversary. Lets not fight and make the most of the one hour we have”
“Don’t you think this place is a bit crowded?”
“It is, but do we have an option?”
“Yes, we do, Ishaan. Follow me.”
“Sigh! When do I not, angel?”
The taxi ride lasted about ten minutes. Ishaan gave up his futile attempts to ask Rohini where they were headed to, as she was adamant not to answer. They reached an apartment. The guard at the gate eyed Rohini as if X-raying her. Ishaan gave one grim, forbidding look to the ogler, who cautiously averted his gaze elsewhere. Rohini’s cellphone buzzed.
“Hello, Sneha? — Oh thank you so much! — Yes, we are here — where? — Oh all right—thanks once again!
Smiling charmingly at him, she said, “Come, we’re almost there.”
“Can I know now, where we are going?”, he asked her in the escalator.
“Here we are”, she whispered….and he saw that they had reached the terrace of the
apartment……the full moon seemed to have washed the terrace by its luminosity….there were rose bushes of perhaps every colour planted in every corner of the small terrace diffusing their mesmerising fragrance around. And from the terrace, they could see a panoramic view of the entire city…. It was as if, the stars had travelled down and placed themselves all around them….. Rohini took out a beautiful handkerchief with Ishaan’s initials on them, sewn by her.” Happy 1st Anniversary, Ishu”, she whispered, coyly.
And the sky and the earth united, as did their souls as they locked lips in a close embrace, witnessed by the pearly orb in the sky, the fragrant rose bushes and the stars that had travelled down, just for that moment, along John Denver’s Annie’s song, on Ishaan’s cellphone…….


The Jukebox of his life was still playing one memory after the other, in his mind 


He was standing outside the living room hearing the heated conversation between his parents. “You pampered and spoilt this worthless boy!”, yelled his father, “A firm hand is all he needs”.
“But it’s all about what our Ishaan wants to do. If he’ll not be comfortable in an engineering institute, would he be able to study?”, His mother tried explaining.
“This comfort-discomfort, satisfaction et cetera are all bullshit. Your good-for-nothing son is nothing, but an escapist!”
“What’s wrong with journalism?” asked his mother
“Everything! Walking about from here to there, gathering nonsense and toiling on it like donkeys! But of course, sissy as he is, he is bound to go for such a profession!”
He could not hear anymore. As he stormed out of the house, he could hear his father’s screams drowning his mother’s pleas….


The scene changed.
 
He was in a hostel room of his college, surrounded by a gang of boys holding hockey sticks and belts. “Help us cheat in the exams, or you won’t even be alive to go for it”, said one burly fellow with swollen biceps, massaging his hockey stick in his formidable-sized palms….

The scene changed again….

The Disciplinary Committee of the engineering college eyed him with contempt and malice as if he were a loathsome insect fit to be crushed.
“We believe that you were the mastermind behind all the ‘adventures’ that your gang had been up to. Though such an activity was never expected from you, but we can’t be partial and turn a blind eye. You were given a chance to avail the glorious prospect of educating yourself, which you didn’t. The Disciplinary Committee has come to the conclusion that such an activity is unforgivable and you are hereby rusticated from this college. Go, pack up…..

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


“Get out of this house… and never come back again. You are no son of mine”, said his father coldly, ignoring the agonized sobs of his mother…..

The teary-eyed face faded out and a new scene loomed into view…..

The alley next to a seemingly existing nightclub seemed so placid, cool and tranquilizing at that moment. Something scurried past him….. He looked up --- A black cat. His cellphone vibrated…..Irritated at being interrupted when he was just one step away from attaining the ultimate pleasure, he looked at his cellphone. “HOME”, it flashed. He rejected the call and switched off his cellphone. 

Then he unpacked the syringe and felt its pointed tip against his index finger. A ray of light fell on the metal and it glinted in the light. “This is the shine my life has lacked all along. I’m going to bring it back. Every photon of it”, he thought grimly. Carefully, he prepared a bolus of the white powder. The needle penetrated his skin and the euphoric substance was shot into his vein after having been propelled by the plunger of the syringe. Chemical alarms of a invasion sounded immediately. The vital ingredients of his body, viz, the plasma enzymes made a vain attempt to attack the intruder. But the dose was so overwhelming that it undermined all his bodily defences. Within seconds, it spread throughout his body, first through the right side of his heart, then the lungs and then suddenly, it was everywhere. He felt constrictions all throughout his body as the blood supply was reduced to the heart. Slowly and slowly, the intruder began to interrupt the beating of his heart, eventually paving his way, like a knife through butter, into his brain. There, the intruder began to exert its most perverse effects. It became an impersonator. He could feel a self-fulfilling excitation spiraling up his body. Circuits of nerve cells divinely wired to ensure the survival of the species rang with excitement and filled the afferent pathways with ecstatic messages. He looked up…. In the pitch black pavilion, he could see fireworks, he could see stars. 

“The spark is back”, he said to himself still under the delirium of inexplicable pleasure after the first ever administration of cocaine into his body.

But the darker side of the moon had not yet revealed its ominous face. He was yet to realize the true deceitful self of cocaine: a minion of death disguised in an aura of beguiling pleasure.
______________________________________________________________________________

It started to rain. Ishaan contemplated another ironic twist of fate in his life played by God. He had been an atheist throughout his life. And now, when the last paragraph of his life’s epilogue was being written by the Almighty, there he was, protectively shielded from the rain under the Durga Temple.

He took out his wallet. There was a photo of his parents, of Rohini and a carefully folded piece of paper. He opened it. It was Rohini’s last letter to him in her impeccable, neat, slanted handwriting
Dear Ishaan,
It’s really sad to realize that I’m falling short of words to start this letter when earlier on, we could go on talking to each other for hours. My parents arranged for me to complete my grads at UK. I’ll be leaving next week. Just wanted to say goodbye (Even though, I never wanted everything to end like this).You’ve changed completely, Ishu.I can’t recognize you anymore. Can’t see the spark in your eyes which I cherished before. In these years, you seldom consumed drugs…..It was the drugs that consumed you more often. All my attempts were futile. How cruelly you pushed me away from your life! I just want you to know that I’m still in love with the Ishaan I knew and I shall continue to do so.
It pains me to think that you killed him.
Goodbye Ishaan,
Love,
Rohini.

The Dhakis seemed determined to dissipate the last vestiges of silence in a good few kilometers around. The Idol was being carried to the Ganges to be submerged. Through the haze of the rain, and his misty eyes, he saw a very familiar outline……. Ma!

She was walking towards him. He could not believe it. He was surely dreaming. He spurted out blood through another deadly bout of cough. His mother sat beside him, placed his head upon her lap and began caressing his hair…..He saw another outline of someone getting clear — the twelve-year-old girl in a yellow salwar kameez, his neighbour, smiling shyly. The lucid outline of Rohini cleared within no time. She came near him, kneeled down and took his hand in hers.

A deep, heavy somnolent ambiance began to be created….. He felt as if he were feather light….. He was flying….Yes! He was!

The place was flooded with an unknown radiance, as if the night had become day. Exactly before being engulfed by a blinding flash of while light that opened in from of him, where he felt an inexplicable coolness and relief, he remembered the sweet voice of that most beautiful teacher……

Swing low, sweet chariot,
Comin’ for, to carry me home
I looked over, and what did I see?
A band of Angels coming after me
Comin’ for, to carry me home………