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  How could I forget that night? It was exactly ten days since my grandfather had passed away. I was close to 1400KM away from home at Bombay, unable to sleep; merely staring at the wall a little before midnight. There was a sense of melancholy and wishful dreaming over my head. My teammates were fast asleep, heads buried in makeshift pillows. It was January; the floor was as cold as ice but yet, vaguely comforting.

  Silence screeched as the wall suddenly lit up to life, reflecting the warm hues of an oriflamme presence somewhere. The sound of the crackling rose up to the second floor apartment where we lay as the fog lifted, disintegrating into nothingness in the face of the bonfire built out of all which held people back.

   Bhoghi, the harvest festival, had dawned. It was midnight as heavy drumming began to sound, awakening the sleeping souls to stare out into the dark; where below, there lay a mound of light and lilt. Smiles cast invitations even when we couldn't see. We ran, our flip-flops slapping the bare mosaic flooring. The sound of the dholaks and laughter intensified with every step of ours, the excitement building. I rolled out only stopping to a reckless halt before the fire. The flames, a feet away leaped about, taller than I was, a fourteen year old girl in disarray. A Sardar, otherwise camouflaged by his beard and black turban smiled through it, holding out sweetmeats to me.The flames blazed higher, smoke spiraling into the vast sky charring the past and ready for the future.

    Slowly, the other state gymnasts descended the stairs and gathered around smiling, laughing and chattering away. Girls who would otherwise be dressed like dolls before the floor exercise performances began to dance in baggy pajamas and disheveled hair holding hands. My hands slowly slipped into theirs, strangers I didn't know in a place I wasn't really acquainted with. All I knew then was that the sound synced with my heartbeat and that the dance came from within.

It didn't matter that midnight in a strange place that I was holding hands and dancing with strangers. It didn't matter how close I was to the fire that night because I didn't feel any heat, only the warmth. It didn't matter that night that my grandfather was dead. I learned to laugh out loud again after a ten-day hiatus. It didn't matter that I was celebrating the festival away from home because, that moment in the dark when all our eyes met lingering with joy, shining in untamed light, I felt at home.  

Source: GOOGLE IMAGES. I do not own this image.  

~Hemu

The Last Fag

Disclaimer : Smoking is highly injurious to health and my happy characters are not harmed in the making of this story.

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I closed my eyes to the whistling winds and the sun playing between the deep dark lines of my palms. My shorts were greased with mud and dried slush, my skin was slowly turning two shades darker leaving a band of fairness along the lines of my watch.. and yet I didn't feel dirty. I felt like my two year old daughter in the sand as she piles up dirt and everything from the ground to construct a direct road to heaven studded with her three-toothed smile all the way. The sun hid behind some grey blotches as I saw the whole world ahead of me as the past intertwined with the future and blended into the present until I stopped realizing the tense I was living in. I sat there with my thoughts of who I was, who I am and who I will be long before the driving wind ran its life down my t-shirt into the transparencies of life... Another year already.

                                                                *****

             I stared out of the car's window as the world above turned a whole blue again. The stars hadn't come out yet, hiding in peace from tranquility waiting for the shadows to rule, to shine in the midst of insecurities and the unknown- To assist the wayfarer's way back home from a joyful day of travel, road and concrete. My eyes traced the way back to the road sliding the gaze through a distant rainbow holding itself for my transit. My hands danced in unison with the music from my player while my other hand played with a cigarette, the last of my pack. I'm going to quit, I told myself and as the mind raced ahead of times to reach the beach house, I reached out for the last fag.. so that the waiting petrichor doesn't lift me off my senses. To be grounded somewhere, I needed it; I thought. It would be my last one, I vowed.
  But I reached for one soon enough. In the depths of the night as I sat next to our mutual friend smoking his happy one. The tip glowed with fiery in its endless perimeters of being and mocked me. I could see tiny devil faces calling me forth. But I said, No. Go away. He took another deep drag before looking at me with a 'don't-you-know?' look.

 What do you mean, he asked. You think he doesn't know about this?

  The green grass we were sitting on seemed to be greener, the stars shone brighter against my dimming vision. My eyes widened for the first time since the power shut down. The angry tip of the white roll began to dim as he sucked on its ends for a high pleasure. I stared at him before slowly questioning in petrified silence.

What do you mean by 'You think he doesn't know about this'? He doesn't know right?

He turned to look at me and spoke the words. 'Of course he does.'

I unearthed a cigarette from his pack and fired it up in an attempt to put off the flames in my heart.

                                                                ******

    I rolled out my yellow tent from the bag and set it up driving pegs into the rocky soil. The only sounds I could hear were the restlessness of the night trees, owls and a few deep groans of the wild dogs a little further into the thickets of the forest. I stood looking at the whites of the waves holding its froth up until the shores of the sea only to let them die there, rising with the omnipotent air. I pulled myself close as I realized I was wearing a sleeveless top, my hands naked to the chill of the mountains overlooking the sea. But my feet kept going anyway, away from warmth and fire.

  Hugging myself, I walked along the inner edges of the cliff. I was running through all the yellow and green post-it notes on the fridge. I wondered if my baby had fallen asleep or if she was giving my man a tough time. He seems so busy with his meetings and work and what not... I walk, my feet touching the bare ground, counting the number of sand particles with my sole.. counting my memories as I cross our Royal Enfield conversing with the glowing fireflies.
   Yet another road trip, one more night with the universe before I reach home to the warm hugs of my husband and the gleeful noises of my daughter. One more...


                                                               *******

 Want to go out for a fag, he asked, his brown eyes shining wide.
  I looked at the boy I so yearned to be with, knowing that his eyes exhibit the knowledge of my love for him. I contemplated while some music played in my head. Of strings, drums and the flute for reasons I have no clue of.
 I'm trying to quit, I said.
So am I, said he.

   And so we went in, in the common drive of putting off the desire to smoke while we vowed we take the last one in a perfect setting. He kicked the stands off his sleek Royal Enfield, snapped on the helmet on my head and his. Lets go, he said. Tyre wheels skid and I held on.. forever, perhaps.
 
   I have a perfect place for the last fag, he said whenever the wind permitted me to hear him say anything.
Where? I questioned, the answer to which was barely audible.
  I hugged onto his black jacket and rested my head against his strong shoulders waiting to reach a place where our last fag would be special. If not anything, it would be my last memory with him. College would soon end and he would be off and away with his pretty girlfriend. The roads rolled out ahead of me as I kept staring at the fleeting moments of concrete merging with its past place of being, stretching my vision, running along with the speed of his bike and the water in my eyes. It felt like a trance, that ride for I knew not where he went and my instincts asked me not too. For the last fag, he had said. For the last memory, I had reckoned.

  I was beginning to drift in and out of dreams as he pressed the brakes and stopped the bike. We got off and looked down at the sea which was atleast a fifty feet below our standing. He held my hand as we made the way to the edge, to sit down, our legs dangerously hanging like pieces of plants from the crevices in the rocks. He brought out two long butted cigarettes and lit it up in a jiffy before the wind could destroy its purpose. The sun was slowly sinking as we got to talk. Time passed on and so did the ashes with our periodic tapping. It flew with the breeze towards the shore, mixing with the waters so blue.
  It was now a little dark and the covers of the sky held itself in blackness. The last traces of our last cigarettes were looming into view. We held onto desperate butts while I held in private the last few moments I would be with my closest friend who would soon drift apart. I turned around pondering about the same to catch him look at me intensely. He looked at my face and smiled.

I broke up with her three months back. You know the reason, I reckon.

His face smiled in every bit, his dimples resting rays of the rising moon. His hair flew in the direction of the eastern winds while his eyes bore me on with happiness and a glint of victory.

Do you wanna discuss it over a last fag?  I asked, my hands reaching out for the lighter.


                                                                      *******

I sat, my legs wavering with the cold weather leaving me shivering with the trees far behind. The world seemed to have rolled ahead of my soul unfolding stars, a moonless night and a lot of fireflies. My bonfire burnt its cracking logs away in a distance throwing sparks in the air, now and then.
  The cold caught me on as I thought I should get back to the tent.To find something that might get me warm But then this can't happen alone.. Not the usual. My eyes welled up with slight tears as I turned around cautiously not to fall off the dry ledge as I saw him walk in silence towards me. He sat next to me as we ended up sitting, seven years back. Legs dangling free with our hearts full of love. Every trip since and every travel after.

Feeling cold? he asked, throwing a blanket around us and I knew I was wrapped around with the  immeasurable weight of his love.
I nodded with a smile, tears given up for his presence as he's always demanded it to be.

 And... do you wanna discuss it out over a last fag? he asked.

 Some more sparks threw up from the fire far away, crackling in laughter as I spit some fire out of my lighter.

                                          Image from the internet.



Submitted for a contest. http://www.mahindraxuv500.com/


Hemu

My little boy

 I looked at him lay beside me.All his face muscles relaxed and a chest so smooth. His ruffled hair and closed eyes made me run my hand through the silkiness of his face and hair. I could see him smile. It seems like he is in the middle of an intense dream where there was a chance just to smile and nothing else. It seemed like god was playing Lego blocks with him and he beat god with a more massive and intricate structure. It was a smile of triumph and acknowledgement of being let, to win. Like the smile of a three-year old boy who thinks he is the strongest in the world as he beats his father in a game. He didn't know the truth behind his victory: the  selfish satisfaction of the father wanting to see his son win. The smile of a kid. That's all that was wanted.Yet,beyond all this, you know the boy'll melt in his mother's arms and embrace her surrendering himself fully to her. Like he did, in my warmth. That's all I saw.. A little boy. 


      Perhaps that's exactly what made me love him. The little boy that I saw in a wannabe man.Mirth danced in his eyes, evidently.. he had a risqué manner of speech..Still like an event that never happened,  the first time we both met. I didn't know who he was.. We spoke in the full freedom of being strangers sharing a conversation. He was of a different class.. of a different world and different ideas. Outsiders saw two radically different people connected by one word: frivolity. Odd that I started liking him I've never had a crush on any guy who resorts to annoying habits I so detest. I never did. But he caught me somewhere. It was an incursion which stayed in fragments in the heart of mine so lonely. Like the little boy who kissed the stranger's cheek, I as the passing woman sat down on my knees to cuddle the bubbly kid. 


    I was still in the warmth of my bed, Unable to get up as he would be awoken from his encounter with the Angel of Smiles, I lay still, looking at his baby face. The smile wandered back and forth from his mouth and into the thin curves of his cheeks. He lay right there holding my hand tight, still sleeping... smiling...
       .... like a little tot that clings to its mother's clothes, my man, held me in his arms.
I went back a little on time and thought of all the eons that he made me smile. Starry-eyed he was, of hot chicks, a prankster,an imp.. The jolt in me that struck me every single time he spoke to her., the days of jealousy and envy. 
It was a feeling that I stuffed inside me. All that I needed to brighten my day was to see his sparkling face just once.. fooling around and teasing everyone. Kid-like antics, I tell you!


           The feral guy, so cherubic... with horns and a tail as well. Boyish charms. That's where he caught me. Yet over the few of our years together, I've seen a man growing. I see it when we go out alone, a protective force all around me.. I see it when another man looks at me. Yet, when it's just me and him, I fail to place the man anywhere, I can see just the little lad. Just the same little boy of enormous guts who walked up to me in the middle of a large gathering and asked me if I liked him in front of so many of my peers! I still remember the cheers that faded out as I walked out of there. What a day it was! 


I lay and thought of it all. Saw my life go in front of my eyes. I saw those tears, ego and love blinding me. I saw the past,present and future. As they were, as they are and as I wished it to be, with him. He amazed me. With the way he talked, the way his face carried a look of obliteration about me liking him or not, the wide shine of his ardency that left me with the blank feeling of emptiness that I didn't know what to do with... everything about him. It just left me stunned. He seemed like a magical being to me. Yet, like every other human, he did grow sad and angry. As a matter of fact, he possessed the emotional level of a kid. On extreme scales of happiness, sorrow, temper and tantrums... He jumped like a monkey from one to another. But, it is adorable to look at him through it all.. For whatever may a toddler do, he is always looked at  with a feeling of extreme love and adoration.  


     Thinking about it all, questions of what, why, when,who and how never were answered when put as a question to ask me about him... He just walked in and pushed everyone else out!
And when I agreed in the pool of tears I had shed that I loved him too, after months of denial and pretension, for I could take it no longer, He just smiled. The same mischievous, impish smile that made me look at him, twice in a huge crowd of people. The same smile of the little boy who steals another's chocolates.. His clean sweep, pride and elation, all behind that one smile as he embraced me to be his...


         I turned around to look at him staring at me, wide-eyed, into my eyes. Still in the covers of my thoughts, I smiled, looking at that boy... who still looked the same.. as I whispered," Good morning.. You seemed to be very amused in that dream of yours! what did you see?"
He mocked my look and asked if I really wanted to know.. As I gave a nod, he said...
   " I saw a little lass, my dear.. A tiny little one that grew possessive of me..A girl drowning in jealousy as I spoke to another.. I saw the girl I so love.. The small kid whose heart I nearly shattered before I could make her love me too, the little girl that i wooed,. and the girl who said a "yes" to me...She is a little girl, my dear who makes me smile.. 
                                                         
The beautiful little girl who I know is a woman, 
yet to me, who will always remain to be a child!"


I closed my eyes and slept on him as he stroked my hair, with a peaceful smile of knowing... 

~ Hemu