Ch-12
In the morning, while on my (now routine) pilgrimage outside my ancestral house, i was thinking about my day ahead. I had boycotted the idea of making friends and there was a bright red danger signal from within my head whenever i thought of Amna. You know, i have no thought of ruining another day of mine simply crying or listening to all those tears. I shouldn't not be this rude with her but i am helpless. I need someone energetic, lively, enthusiastic........ Someone like my dad or my friends. I wanna enjoy. I can't keep blaming my mom for being shipwrecked in this mysterious island with people of different dialect and mind-set.... The sun was in its full party mood and my head was throbbing beyond control. I needed shade.... I needed rest.... I needed water.... The road was behaving like a finely polished mirror... reflecting all of the sunlight towards me.... My eyes were pleading to be shut and i felt my legs go weak beneath me..... The heat was driving me crazy and i felt like i was getting evaporated.... The hot dry wind blew against me and i was almost carried away.... I fell.... Kept on falling... falling... falling... When would i reach the ground?????..........
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Ch-11
My name is Elizabeth Parvati John. Confusing. Ain't it? My dad's John Jacob. And mom's Gitanjali Lakshmi Devi. A total mixed marriage. Dad wanted some hints of Christianity in my name and mom some hints of Hinduism. So lo! And behold my name is conceived. And how come i am still a Hindu? Mom told dad to bring me up a Hindu. He did object but mom was furious. As dad loved mom, i am a Hindu. My dad's still a Christian. And i love that religion. Now to the matter at hand, mom calls me Liz, Beth, Becky, Eli, et cetera. And 'Bhecky' was a la deshi version of Becky..... What a contradicting world indeed! I would rather call it crazy!!! She was having a crease on her forehead, suggesting discomfort, for i had been rudely staring at her, while being lost in my endless stream of thoughts....
"Namaste amma"
"Namaste bete...."
"Amma, mujhe Paro bula lijiye. Mera naam Parvati hai." My mom had warned me beforehand what the consequences of my first and last name would be.
Our talk ranged from nothing to everything. She was the only person knowing good Hindi in the village, as she had good relationship with my mom. She used to take care of my mom. She was more sort of a foster mom. My mom knew little of the village language, which is thought too low to be learned by Brahmins. So, thanks to my mom, she knows Hindi. She spoke at length about how deep and strong was her relationship with my mom, how naughty my mom was and all the small stories which this old lady had treasured like gems in her heart. I saw her eyes getting wet. I saw the tears rolling down her folded skin, in a wave like pattern. She was so composed, she quickly dried her eyes. But the emotions had been kindled and the tears took their course so naturally. Her voice was heavy as she described my mom's childhood and somewhere inside me a voice told it's too much. I couldn't any longer see her crying and laugh coz it's a happy event. My own eyes were getting moist and my tear glands had ignited my nose and i had a flowing nose, much to my disgust. I told, it's time for me to go. Said, she should come along and have some water. She was so glad, with joy, again the momentarily stopped tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks. I took her home, gave her water and made sure that she wasn't crying. She wobbled off, a little while later before the sun set. Again i found myself in bed that night, accomplished nothing but storing a bunch of damp, moist memories in my heart's brain and some beautiful moments with an old lady, much to my satisfaction. And also, before i forget to add, i also have a flowing nose and a headache (for which i couldn't find any particular reason).
My name is Elizabeth Parvati John. Confusing. Ain't it? My dad's John Jacob. And mom's Gitanjali Lakshmi Devi. A total mixed marriage. Dad wanted some hints of Christianity in my name and mom some hints of Hinduism. So lo! And behold my name is conceived. And how come i am still a Hindu? Mom told dad to bring me up a Hindu. He did object but mom was furious. As dad loved mom, i am a Hindu. My dad's still a Christian. And i love that religion. Now to the matter at hand, mom calls me Liz, Beth, Becky, Eli, et cetera. And 'Bhecky' was a la deshi version of Becky..... What a contradicting world indeed! I would rather call it crazy!!! She was having a crease on her forehead, suggesting discomfort, for i had been rudely staring at her, while being lost in my endless stream of thoughts....
"Namaste amma"
"Namaste bete...."
"Amma, mujhe Paro bula lijiye. Mera naam Parvati hai." My mom had warned me beforehand what the consequences of my first and last name would be.
Our talk ranged from nothing to everything. She was the only person knowing good Hindi in the village, as she had good relationship with my mom. She used to take care of my mom. She was more sort of a foster mom. My mom knew little of the village language, which is thought too low to be learned by Brahmins. So, thanks to my mom, she knows Hindi. She spoke at length about how deep and strong was her relationship with my mom, how naughty my mom was and all the small stories which this old lady had treasured like gems in her heart. I saw her eyes getting wet. I saw the tears rolling down her folded skin, in a wave like pattern. She was so composed, she quickly dried her eyes. But the emotions had been kindled and the tears took their course so naturally. Her voice was heavy as she described my mom's childhood and somewhere inside me a voice told it's too much. I couldn't any longer see her crying and laugh coz it's a happy event. My own eyes were getting moist and my tear glands had ignited my nose and i had a flowing nose, much to my disgust. I told, it's time for me to go. Said, she should come along and have some water. She was so glad, with joy, again the momentarily stopped tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks. I took her home, gave her water and made sure that she wasn't crying. She wobbled off, a little while later before the sun set. Again i found myself in bed that night, accomplished nothing but storing a bunch of damp, moist memories in my heart's brain and some beautiful moments with an old lady, much to my satisfaction. And also, before i forget to add, i also have a flowing nose and a headache (for which i couldn't find any particular reason).
Ch-10
Amna was walking very slowly and i was instantly reminded of a bunch of cotton. More than walking, i found her floating with the wind. She might have been 35 or 36 kg. Nothing more, nothing less. She was stooping over with age but she was what she was. During the olden times, her mom used to work as a maid for my mom's family. She used to help out with the daily chores and used to get paid with food. Now, maybe, times have changed for us in the cities. But in the villages it's the same old tradition. She is still a slave, a position inherited from her mom, a position which her kids, both having good jobs in the cities, refused to inherit. She was rather warmly compassionate towards me and i really liked her for that. But my aunt had warned me against her, telling me that she is low-caste, et cetera, et cetera, and all that filth. How much i hate her for that!! Anyway, i moved towards Amna and she almost missed me and strode past me. Oh! Well, not only has her age contributed to her stoop but it has reduced her vision too. Okay. Fine with me. How irritating!!! I almost jogged back to keep up with her. I called out her name..... "Amna!!!". How disgusting that i didn't use 'auntie' or 'ji'!!! She had heard me and had stopped. She turned around and kept staring at me, possibly trying to place me. After what seemed like ages, she blurted out...."Bhecky". And I couldn't at all blame her for that.
Amna was walking very slowly and i was instantly reminded of a bunch of cotton. More than walking, i found her floating with the wind. She might have been 35 or 36 kg. Nothing more, nothing less. She was stooping over with age but she was what she was. During the olden times, her mom used to work as a maid for my mom's family. She used to help out with the daily chores and used to get paid with food. Now, maybe, times have changed for us in the cities. But in the villages it's the same old tradition. She is still a slave, a position inherited from her mom, a position which her kids, both having good jobs in the cities, refused to inherit. She was rather warmly compassionate towards me and i really liked her for that. But my aunt had warned me against her, telling me that she is low-caste, et cetera, et cetera, and all that filth. How much i hate her for that!! Anyway, i moved towards Amna and she almost missed me and strode past me. Oh! Well, not only has her age contributed to her stoop but it has reduced her vision too. Okay. Fine with me. How irritating!!! I almost jogged back to keep up with her. I called out her name..... "Amna!!!". How disgusting that i didn't use 'auntie' or 'ji'!!! She had heard me and had stopped. She turned around and kept staring at me, possibly trying to place me. After what seemed like ages, she blurted out...."Bhecky". And I couldn't at all blame her for that.
Ch-9
My fascination for cemeteries ended, rather abruptly. Now was i really trapped. I had no one to play with, no one to talk to and almost nothing to do. I can call up my friends.... but when they will narrate their tales of fun and frolic, i would be crouching low with nothing interesting to share...... Why mom? Why? Why this injustice towards me......???? Oh mom, if only dad was here... He is really fun to be with..... Anyway, i am not the one to be easily beaten... I will make friends even in hell...... Armed with this sense of redemption and sheer determination i was out of the house yet again to unravel the mystery which was surrounding my life. My superstitious beliefs urged me to believe that some evil spirit was at work..... And i didn't like any stupid damn spirit meddling with my life. But just thinking about it, i felt a bit shaken. How our Hindu mythology is surrounded by facts that are never true! Why, can a stupid non-existent spirit tamper with your life and turn it topsy-turvy? Anyway, I was not the one to change my religion. Had this been the case, Hinduism would not have been much different from the law books, which are amended according to the situations, which arise, and according to the mind-set of people. Having walked half the way till our fields ended, my mind gave me a jolt and i stopped as though hit by lightening. I didn't know the village language. How am i gonna be friends with the village kids? I was just pondering over this situation when i saw Amna come.
My fascination for cemeteries ended, rather abruptly. Now was i really trapped. I had no one to play with, no one to talk to and almost nothing to do. I can call up my friends.... but when they will narrate their tales of fun and frolic, i would be crouching low with nothing interesting to share...... Why mom? Why? Why this injustice towards me......???? Oh mom, if only dad was here... He is really fun to be with..... Anyway, i am not the one to be easily beaten... I will make friends even in hell...... Armed with this sense of redemption and sheer determination i was out of the house yet again to unravel the mystery which was surrounding my life. My superstitious beliefs urged me to believe that some evil spirit was at work..... And i didn't like any stupid damn spirit meddling with my life. But just thinking about it, i felt a bit shaken. How our Hindu mythology is surrounded by facts that are never true! Why, can a stupid non-existent spirit tamper with your life and turn it topsy-turvy? Anyway, I was not the one to change my religion. Had this been the case, Hinduism would not have been much different from the law books, which are amended according to the situations, which arise, and according to the mind-set of people. Having walked half the way till our fields ended, my mind gave me a jolt and i stopped as though hit by lightening. I didn't know the village language. How am i gonna be friends with the village kids? I was just pondering over this situation when i saw Amna come.
Ch-8
Then again it came.
Earthquake drills in my school had always kept my mind alert for these vibrations.... Again and then again.... Almost like it were happening in a rhythm.... Flowing in a wavy pattern.... I came to my senses... Shouldn't I run? I panicked... I was afraid.. I was alone... A cold sweat drenched my forehead..... It had stopped for a while but again it began.... Brrrrrrr...... Damn! It's my mobile vibrating against the bench! Oh, its mom. "Hello?"
"Were you sleeping dear?"
"No, mom exactly I was......."
"Whatever it is..... Dear, you will have to stay there for 2 whole months...."
"NOOOOOO!!!"
"What no? I have to go out of India for a month.... Then 1 month full I have training..... Dear, I can't help it....."
"But mom you promised to be back within the weekend...."
"Dear, if I could wouldn't I have? Sorry dear.... Please don't be cross..."
"Mom you ruined my holidays..... This place is very boring.... I wanna be back"
"Now don't throw tantrums.... I have thought about it and that's it. I will have your laptop and school books and all that stuff of yours sent there...."
"But mom...."
"No buts... Bye honey take care.."
"BYE!!!" [@#*§@#@*@§~`#*#^§@%#*#%]
"All forms of vibrations from under the earth can be an earthquake" told our social science teacher.... "The casualties caused are mainly injuries, fractures..."
But sometimes, as I know now, vibrations on the bench can be an earthquake too which can make all your fun to crash down and the casualties can also be heart attacks.....
Then again it came.
Earthquake drills in my school had always kept my mind alert for these vibrations.... Again and then again.... Almost like it were happening in a rhythm.... Flowing in a wavy pattern.... I came to my senses... Shouldn't I run? I panicked... I was afraid.. I was alone... A cold sweat drenched my forehead..... It had stopped for a while but again it began.... Brrrrrrr...... Damn! It's my mobile vibrating against the bench! Oh, its mom. "Hello?"
"Were you sleeping dear?"
"No, mom exactly I was......."
"Whatever it is..... Dear, you will have to stay there for 2 whole months...."
"NOOOOOO!!!"
"What no? I have to go out of India for a month.... Then 1 month full I have training..... Dear, I can't help it....."
"But mom you promised to be back within the weekend...."
"Dear, if I could wouldn't I have? Sorry dear.... Please don't be cross..."
"Mom you ruined my holidays..... This place is very boring.... I wanna be back"
"Now don't throw tantrums.... I have thought about it and that's it. I will have your laptop and school books and all that stuff of yours sent there...."
"But mom...."
"No buts... Bye honey take care.."
"BYE!!!" [@#*§@#@*@§~`#*#^§@%#*#%]
"All forms of vibrations from under the earth can be an earthquake" told our social science teacher.... "The casualties caused are mainly injuries, fractures..."
But sometimes, as I know now, vibrations on the bench can be an earthquake too which can make all your fun to crash down and the casualties can also be heart attacks.....
Ch-7
Early next morning, donned with a camera, a note pad (don't know why) and a bunch of pens, I was ready to meet a ghost, take a photograph and interview it! With much difficulty, I reached my abode..... And was I breath taken?!!?? It was a vast expanse of greens, probably of the medieval period... Beautiful flowers and huge old trees, bowed down with the weight of their branches was all I could see.... There were benches, and some of the graves even had some fresh flowers on them. I was startled at first, but then, I was back to my senses...... the thing which startled me was really a huge projecting grave, complete with a private tree and a number of flowers in its fenced vicinity. It belonged to Adm. Sir Joseph Vincesse, "the lowly servant of God, who passed away while serving the Queen and guiding his country, Britain, into victory......"
"Dated on 1857"..... Disgusting was the first thought that came into my mind when I thought of the sorry plight of Indians..... The people who oppressed her have got such a raised tomb and her martyrs..... What have they got? Many are even forgotten. How many of the British officials are still alive in history text books.... Those evil, corrupt ones, who ruined all that India possessed..... Except our determination.... That's the reason why I hate history. And also because our history teacher is not that good.... What was even more fascinating was that I found the cemetery trekking very interesting.... I wanted to unravel a lot of info about the people who have ended up here.... There lives, hopes, dreams, ambitions..... How living in that era felt like.... How, ultimately all are killed by the enemies and still dramatically their last words are..."I love my country.." or "all praises to my country......." I didn't believe in all these crap... But I want to die peacefully away from war.... In a heaven of love and peace.... And my last words being..." Hai Ram..." I was thinking and thinking when I felt a tremor...
Early next morning, donned with a camera, a note pad (don't know why) and a bunch of pens, I was ready to meet a ghost, take a photograph and interview it! With much difficulty, I reached my abode..... And was I breath taken?!!?? It was a vast expanse of greens, probably of the medieval period... Beautiful flowers and huge old trees, bowed down with the weight of their branches was all I could see.... There were benches, and some of the graves even had some fresh flowers on them. I was startled at first, but then, I was back to my senses...... the thing which startled me was really a huge projecting grave, complete with a private tree and a number of flowers in its fenced vicinity. It belonged to Adm. Sir Joseph Vincesse, "the lowly servant of God, who passed away while serving the Queen and guiding his country, Britain, into victory......"
"Dated on 1857"..... Disgusting was the first thought that came into my mind when I thought of the sorry plight of Indians..... The people who oppressed her have got such a raised tomb and her martyrs..... What have they got? Many are even forgotten. How many of the British officials are still alive in history text books.... Those evil, corrupt ones, who ruined all that India possessed..... Except our determination.... That's the reason why I hate history. And also because our history teacher is not that good.... What was even more fascinating was that I found the cemetery trekking very interesting.... I wanted to unravel a lot of info about the people who have ended up here.... There lives, hopes, dreams, ambitions..... How living in that era felt like.... How, ultimately all are killed by the enemies and still dramatically their last words are..."I love my country.." or "all praises to my country......." I didn't believe in all these crap... But I want to die peacefully away from war.... In a heaven of love and peace.... And my last words being..." Hai Ram..." I was thinking and thinking when I felt a tremor...
Ch-6
Next day, with nothing to do, I summed up enough courage to go and ask permission to go out to explore this boring and dead village. I got this brilliant idea last night. Granpa didn't reply... probably he didn't hear. Granma was bathing. Uncle was having breakfast so I asked him. He was rather cheerful to agree but warned me against getting lost. Was that supposed to be a joke??? I was suddenly transformed into a maiden with golden wings and the whole universe left to explore..... I decided to measure each and every place before I left this place. It didn't take any longer than a day... I found that almost 90% of the village was under agriculture. That roughly means 90% of this village will be golden with the corns and wheat. The rest 10% was under either housing or was encroached by rivers. This was a severe blow to me. I have nothing to do now........ Well, using what all brains I had, I asked that guy if there were any places of tourist interest. He replied, rather sarcastically (i think, for i was delaying him), "If it interests you, there's a cemetery nearby..." To avoid further misunderstandings, the 'guy' here is actually a schoolteacher on his way back home. "Fantastic!" I thought. I being from a Hindu family had never felt how a cemetery FEELS like. You know, I have seen it in photographs but never in reality. So before I switched off my room's light, I had a rough idea for the day ahead........ Cemetery, here I come!!!
Next day, with nothing to do, I summed up enough courage to go and ask permission to go out to explore this boring and dead village. I got this brilliant idea last night. Granpa didn't reply... probably he didn't hear. Granma was bathing. Uncle was having breakfast so I asked him. He was rather cheerful to agree but warned me against getting lost. Was that supposed to be a joke??? I was suddenly transformed into a maiden with golden wings and the whole universe left to explore..... I decided to measure each and every place before I left this place. It didn't take any longer than a day... I found that almost 90% of the village was under agriculture. That roughly means 90% of this village will be golden with the corns and wheat. The rest 10% was under either housing or was encroached by rivers. This was a severe blow to me. I have nothing to do now........ Well, using what all brains I had, I asked that guy if there were any places of tourist interest. He replied, rather sarcastically (i think, for i was delaying him), "If it interests you, there's a cemetery nearby..." To avoid further misunderstandings, the 'guy' here is actually a schoolteacher on his way back home. "Fantastic!" I thought. I being from a Hindu family had never felt how a cemetery FEELS like. You know, I have seen it in photographs but never in reality. So before I switched off my room's light, I had a rough idea for the day ahead........ Cemetery, here I come!!!
Ch-5
Horrible is the word I'll use to describe this village now. No t.v., nobody of my age group and my granny who doesn't know Hindi. Granpa is too old to hear anything clearly. My aunt is a rather reserved person who hates me because I don't dress according to the village rules. My uncle is a bright funny chap, who too, like me, is trapped in this cage and never flinches at the thought of escape. He runs a shop in the town and often returns late by night. And my mom? She the most crocked of all creatures left me here saying she got a phone call..... Ohhh! It was my idea after all! Why did I ever mention about coming here? Well, okay. Now atleast I know that I am going to get bored and bored and bored here!!! But I am taught to look for the silver lining in the dark clouds..... Does silver looks a lot like black??? It seems the case here....!!!
Horrible is the word I'll use to describe this village now. No t.v., nobody of my age group and my granny who doesn't know Hindi. Granpa is too old to hear anything clearly. My aunt is a rather reserved person who hates me because I don't dress according to the village rules. My uncle is a bright funny chap, who too, like me, is trapped in this cage and never flinches at the thought of escape. He runs a shop in the town and often returns late by night. And my mom? She the most crocked of all creatures left me here saying she got a phone call..... Ohhh! It was my idea after all! Why did I ever mention about coming here? Well, okay. Now atleast I know that I am going to get bored and bored and bored here!!! But I am taught to look for the silver lining in the dark clouds..... Does silver looks a lot like black??? It seems the case here....!!!
Ch-4
My first impression of my mom's village was "okay". Not that bad, not that good. Roads were bad, buses were in bad condition but the nature was at its full bloom. The sun was ever so bright and its radiance was clearly visible on each face- be it a farmer tending at his field, or a mother attending to her children and chores at the same time. The breeze was at its best of moods and the whole scenery was making me ponder..." Why didn't I come here before?". We were escorted home by my uncle from the airport. It was a rather long trip and the whole morning went by through tireless expanse of fields... Beautiful golden corns shining even bright because of the sun..... We met a lot of rivers and lakes... Beautiful sparkling water inviting you to come and feel the cool waves touching your feet... By evening my scenery ended... all chirping ceased and the sun was overtaken by the angry black clouds.... Flashes of thunder sent chills down my spine... Then the rain. The small wonder drops kissing the sun-baked roads was a scene not to be missed. I felt like being out there... in the rain... feeling the rain drops.... We reached our village just when it had started raining and I knew what getting splashed with the dirty water in puddles was all about. I was dripping wet, fine, because it was raining. Okay. But what excuse do I have for the mud stuck on to my trousers? For the dirty water dripping from my T-shirt? Its okay, mom told me. Keep this as a memory of your visit.......
My first impression of my mom's village was "okay". Not that bad, not that good. Roads were bad, buses were in bad condition but the nature was at its full bloom. The sun was ever so bright and its radiance was clearly visible on each face- be it a farmer tending at his field, or a mother attending to her children and chores at the same time. The breeze was at its best of moods and the whole scenery was making me ponder..." Why didn't I come here before?". We were escorted home by my uncle from the airport. It was a rather long trip and the whole morning went by through tireless expanse of fields... Beautiful golden corns shining even bright because of the sun..... We met a lot of rivers and lakes... Beautiful sparkling water inviting you to come and feel the cool waves touching your feet... By evening my scenery ended... all chirping ceased and the sun was overtaken by the angry black clouds.... Flashes of thunder sent chills down my spine... Then the rain. The small wonder drops kissing the sun-baked roads was a scene not to be missed. I felt like being out there... in the rain... feeling the rain drops.... We reached our village just when it had started raining and I knew what getting splashed with the dirty water in puddles was all about. I was dripping wet, fine, because it was raining. Okay. But what excuse do I have for the mud stuck on to my trousers? For the dirty water dripping from my T-shirt? Its okay, mom told me. Keep this as a memory of your visit.......
Ch-3
The journey to the airport was hilarious... for me atleast. First, the taxi we were in broke down. Mom was damn tensed and angry. But somehow thinking with a cool mind, she decided to hire another one. Then it was the ticket. I was sure I had kept it in mom's purse. But mom couldn't find it and she panicked. She ran back home and turned the house upside down and still couldn't find it. I checked her purse and found it was there all the while. I scolded mom and demanded that she be back the earliest. Atlast, she was back... only to loose me. She got in through the wrong entrance and again panicked when she realized her mistake. The fact was that plainly, she was lost. She reached to the main office and it was after many announcements that we were safely buckled inside our flight. Onboard, I made a mistake of telling, rather remarking on one thing- "Had dad been here, this wouldn't have happened.." And mom was all the more red hot with temper and our flight was rather eerily characterized by silence....
The journey to the airport was hilarious... for me atleast. First, the taxi we were in broke down. Mom was damn tensed and angry. But somehow thinking with a cool mind, she decided to hire another one. Then it was the ticket. I was sure I had kept it in mom's purse. But mom couldn't find it and she panicked. She ran back home and turned the house upside down and still couldn't find it. I checked her purse and found it was there all the while. I scolded mom and demanded that she be back the earliest. Atlast, she was back... only to loose me. She got in through the wrong entrance and again panicked when she realized her mistake. The fact was that plainly, she was lost. She reached to the main office and it was after many announcements that we were safely buckled inside our flight. Onboard, I made a mistake of telling, rather remarking on one thing- "Had dad been here, this wouldn't have happened.." And mom was all the more red hot with temper and our flight was rather eerily characterized by silence....
Ch-3
The journey to the airport was hilarious... for me atleast. First, the taxi we were in broke down. Mom was damn tensed and angry. But somehow thinking with a cool mind, she decided to hire another one. Then it was the ticket. I was sure I had kept it in mom's purse. But mom couldn't find it and she panicked. She ran back home and turned the house upside down and still couldn't find it. I checked her purse and found it was there all the while. I scolded mom and demanded that she be back the earliest. Atlast, she was back... only to loose me. She got in through the wrong entrance and again panicked when she realized her mistake. The fact was that plainly, she was lost. She reached to the main office and it was after many announcements that we were safely buckled inside our flight. Onboard, I made a mistake of telling, rather remarking on one thing- "Had dad been here, this wouldn't have happened.." And mom was all the more red hot with temper and our flight was rather eerily characterized by silence....
The journey to the airport was hilarious... for me atleast. First, the taxi we were in broke down. Mom was damn tensed and angry. But somehow thinking with a cool mind, she decided to hire another one. Then it was the ticket. I was sure I had kept it in mom's purse. But mom couldn't find it and she panicked. She ran back home and turned the house upside down and still couldn't find it. I checked her purse and found it was there all the while. I scolded mom and demanded that she be back the earliest. Atlast, she was back... only to loose me. She got in through the wrong entrance and again panicked when she realized her mistake. The fact was that plainly, she was lost. She reached to the main office and it was after many announcements that we were safely buckled inside our flight. Onboard, I made a mistake of telling, rather remarking on one thing- "Had dad been here, this wouldn't have happened.." And mom was all the more red hot with temper and our flight was rather eerily characterized by silence....
Ch-2
"Mom! I am home!"
"You look so relieved.... Has your holidays started already?"
"Yep, mom. Everybody was asking me where we'd be going this time... Are we going to papa's place?"
"Well, Liz, I frankly don't know.... Why don't you ask your dad?"
My mom and dad were the perfect parents and couple..... They told me one day that they couldn't stand each other any longer..... They had to have independence.... So, one day I found myself in the court with the judge asking me one question: "Whom do you want to live with? Mom... or dad?.... I could only manage an innocent "both". And the verdict? Weekdays with mom and weekends with dad... It was another thing that they had had a love- marriage against their parent's wishes... I had never been to my mother's place... They have still not forgiven my mom for marrying my dad... But that's an old story now... So beaming with my new idea I asked mom as a matter of factly.. "Well, mom, what if we go to your place this summer? We have never been there and I would like it too..." I could see mom was pondering over my suggestion. "Well, darling, I can't promise anything... But maybe..." And lo! The phone rang and my mom was off to work.....
"Mom! I am home!"
"You look so relieved.... Has your holidays started already?"
"Yep, mom. Everybody was asking me where we'd be going this time... Are we going to papa's place?"
"Well, Liz, I frankly don't know.... Why don't you ask your dad?"
My mom and dad were the perfect parents and couple..... They told me one day that they couldn't stand each other any longer..... They had to have independence.... So, one day I found myself in the court with the judge asking me one question: "Whom do you want to live with? Mom... or dad?.... I could only manage an innocent "both". And the verdict? Weekdays with mom and weekends with dad... It was another thing that they had had a love- marriage against their parent's wishes... I had never been to my mother's place... They have still not forgiven my mom for marrying my dad... But that's an old story now... So beaming with my new idea I asked mom as a matter of factly.. "Well, mom, what if we go to your place this summer? We have never been there and I would like it too..." I could see mom was pondering over my suggestion. "Well, darling, I can't promise anything... But maybe..." And lo! The phone rang and my mom was off to work.....
Saturday, August 15, 2009
An Untold Tale
Ch-1
Trrrr.....! It was the bell of our redemption.... At last the summer holidays have begun... All our energy was wasted in shouting, howling and screaming the whole day.... And the last part, the 'hurray', was the most spectacular, with loads of energy and enthusiasm and with everybody's participation.
Our eyes were full of crocodile tears when we told our friends that we would miss them... Our shoulders were held high with pride and were attracting envy from our peers who had to live through school just one more day... But that one day makes a hell lot of difference. Well, not always were our shoulders high... it was burdened with the vast amount of home works, specially, HISTORY! I simply hate! hate! hate! history!
I can tolerate auntie-siting my disastrous aunt, who keeps on speaking. But, I simply cant! cant! cant! Tolerate history!!! Saying hurried byes and good wishes, I made it to my school bus. The talk whole the way was about the journeys and treks, which my friends boasted of going in these holidays. When comfronted by this question by Rema, a very proud and curt girl, my answer was a plain "I don't know". She thought I was not going anywhere and the rest of the journey, she made it a point to tease and irritate me...... I almost dozed away...
"Hey! Don't you wanna go home?"
This was my conductor disturbing me from my sleep.
"Arrey baba, get up!"
I was up with a jolt.....
Trrrr.....! It was the bell of our redemption.... At last the summer holidays have begun... All our energy was wasted in shouting, howling and screaming the whole day.... And the last part, the 'hurray', was the most spectacular, with loads of energy and enthusiasm and with everybody's participation.
Our eyes were full of crocodile tears when we told our friends that we would miss them... Our shoulders were held high with pride and were attracting envy from our peers who had to live through school just one more day... But that one day makes a hell lot of difference. Well, not always were our shoulders high... it was burdened with the vast amount of home works, specially, HISTORY! I simply hate! hate! hate! history!
I can tolerate auntie-siting my disastrous aunt, who keeps on speaking. But, I simply cant! cant! cant! Tolerate history!!! Saying hurried byes and good wishes, I made it to my school bus. The talk whole the way was about the journeys and treks, which my friends boasted of going in these holidays. When comfronted by this question by Rema, a very proud and curt girl, my answer was a plain "I don't know". She thought I was not going anywhere and the rest of the journey, she made it a point to tease and irritate me...... I almost dozed away...
"Hey! Don't you wanna go home?"
This was my conductor disturbing me from my sleep.
"Arrey baba, get up!"
I was up with a jolt.....
Think Again
God paused a moment,
To admire His creation.
And lo! And behold!
Appeared the bloody nations!
Full of carcasses, corpses,
It reeked and stinked.
God puzzled and pained,
Simply, alas, blinked.
"Is this My creation?"
He asked in utter disbelief!
As pain and sorrow,
Swept His heart with grief.
His eyes were all revolting,
For the sight was so rotten,
He gathered up His mighty fury
And the world started to hotten.
People named it 'Global Warming",
As sweating and reeking they,
Saw the melting of glaciers,
And while the sun shined, made hay.
They cried hoarse about countries,
Emitting 'Green House' gases,
But still closed their eyes,
Towards the dying masses.
Terrorism had all in its grip,
Child to adult- all were blindfolded.
None could perceive that,
They all had been craftily molded.
All fooled into believing,
Blood shed is good.
And thus they continued the killings,
And the bombings, as much as they could.
God could not tolerate the savagery,
The malice, animosity and bloodshed.
He could not stand humanity thus,
Whose hunger corpses fed.
He swore against them all,
He swore eternal revenge!
He cursed them all, said He:
"Their deaths I will avenge!"
"The innocents in millions, whose,
Blood you poured out so mercilessly!
Now you all will pay!, See! Another flood,
Am I in the making ceaselessly!"
Thus the glaciers melted,
"Global warming", said they;
Wave upon wave towering,
Mighty waters led the way!
It washed onto land, homes and offices,
In
Until the land, no longer visible,
Became a huge
Alas! But none! Did survive this one!
For years and years hence....
Waters washed and lapped over each other,
In eternal Penance......
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)