Counterparts of relationships........

The smell of flowers, the sound of the traditional melam, the light effect, the twinkling sequences in the sarees of the relatives all wre the accessories which depicted the upper middle class marrige.

But for me it was just horrible. My all five sense organs were off mood. Can’t help it since being the marrige of my collegemate. I was in the outer edge of the gossip group which constituted my other college mates mostly who went off married. They had a lot to talk but I don’t know about what. Sharuk Khan’s new film to the good looking girl next door……..

Remainding me of my single relationship status was my only point of communication with them. Ya I know it then why remainding me of that……. Don’t know.

Again someone joined the group. I knew her. Just like anyother collegemate. Not much of emotional attachment. “Emotional attachment” – great word….. who is attached to whom in professional studies…… don’t know.

She went inside the dressing room to see the bride who was supposed to be her best friend. When she left her saree pallu fell over my head for which she appologised and I accepted eventhough it ruined my hair.

When she was away, the group became jive.

“Hey you know her marrige broke off”….. who is the you in the group of twenty plus people…. obiviously its not me….. I swear.

“ No her husband is in Gulf yaar , she told me” another said.

“O that was just a week before, na. Last month she told me that her hus was in Chennai” another said.

“Might be he has gone to Gulf from Chennai .”

“No yaar. It was a lie. The truth is that it broke off. Her distant relative stays next to me. She told me that the marrige is spoiled completely.”

“Ho, just look at her. She became more stylish than before. See her saree and her ornaments just matching the saree….How dare she does this after separation ”the leader of the gang said.

Now it exclusively became the group of gossiping married woman of serials me being the only exception.Now the heroin of the story came back after seeing and gifting her best friend.

“Hey where is your husband?”-The question was asked by the one who blabbered all the bleady story.I was shocked, surprised and ashamed ………. all at the same time.

“He had gone to Gulf”.

“But you said he is in Chennai”

“He was, but now he is in Gulf”.

“Your that aunt na stays near me and we are very good friends.”

A drop of cold sweat dripped over her forehead which everyone including me could see. Before she could ask anymore questions, I said that the marriage is going to begin and be quiet. My first voluntary sentence for the past one hour or so.

She sat just near me. Don’t know why..I looked at her thrice to talk to her .But she took her eyes off from me. She was exceptionally quiet which marked in accountance with the truth in the gossip.

At last I took courage to ask her, “Why do you want yourself to be told as the counterpart of a relationship that doesn’t exist all?”

She could have shouted, scolded and abused me. I am nobody to interfere in someone’s personal relationship that too kept so secret.

Instead she filled her large eyes with tears…….

“No I mean it yaar. When it doesn’t exist why do you tell it to be.” I touched her hand. For the first time. When we were together for years I didn’t do it.

“What will the society think’- she said it in broken, pathetic voice”.

“Do you really care? Our society consists of those people who just asked about your relationship even when they knew the fate. Today they talked about you, tomorrow someone else day after tomorrow again someone else . They got enough of options yaar…..from Sharuk to sarees…..

“But its not even an year yaar….” She said.

“Years are not the measurement scale of a relationship. Its acceptance……”

“You know I had an affair at college”…….

“I know and everyone else knew “I said.

“They will make stories”.

“That’s pretty sure. But why should you give your ears to them. And by the way your ex boy friend got a new girlfriend” I said confidently as I knew it.

“How will I tell any one”?

“Just practice before the mirror.Tell nine times …I am separated, I am separated. For the tenth time you will get it right…. Now tell your friends that of the reasons which I don’t want to explain we are separated. Simple……”

“Simple”-

“I mean I know that it is not simple…..How far will you be in the shadow of this lie?”

“I saw a new light in her eyes or else I felt so”.

“Common guys lets have lunch….”the leader of the gang said.

O the marriage is over. I didn’t even see the groom…I thought….Now someone came running to the group. I could see …again my classmate…..He began to shout in the group, might be with happiness….came to everyone and to me and asked how I was to which I said I am fine. Now to my friend again he asked how she was.

“Of the reasons which I don’t want to explain we are separated and I am fine now.” She said as she looked up at me….

I felt myself proud when she pulled my hand and said”let’s go for lunch”….

Ya sure…… sure…….

Communities Of Life

It happened accidently, just accidently. All Kerala Love Failures Union, a community created by someone in orkut. For all the love failures of the state. My friend was added up to be the member of that community. So I got an automatic update that he joined ‘AKLFU’.

Out of sheer interest I clicked its heart……..Amazing facts were relived…….

The total number failure owners were 165. To my wonder I could find that not even a single girl was its member. All the165 were guys. How come that be possible?

In a country like India where homosexuality is still in section 377 and in the hearts of only its volunteers, its members and not the general public, how come there would be all the 165 were guys.

For a guy to have a failure in the existing situation there must be a girl ……na, there must be at the least one girl…..But not a single girl happens to be its member….

Why?Just because girls don’t reveal their affairs and boys do……or just because they don’t feel like sharing …don’t know..

All I could do was to chant Rabindra Nath Tagore’s Githanjali in my version. “ Into such heavens of freedom where not only boys but also girls could express themselves into their fullest O my father let my country arise”.

Moving back to the community,,,,,,,the names of the members were destructive…..

“ I want to die.”

“U made me a history”.

“ I will get u in my next life”.

I got very humble request for the these.

To Mr. I want to die ; If you want something, you must work for it. You will not get anything freely. That is nature’s rule. Try and go ahead for it. You will succed if not the first time, still chances are there more and more.

To Mr. U Made Me a History; History is the greatest part of anything…..You got it right. Thank god you didn’t get civics. Its pretty tough. I am speaking about 10^th CBSE exams. Civics was a bit tough for me in Social Studies.

To Mr. I will get u in my next life; Don’t tell it to a scientist. They won’t believe in life after death. But still hopefully if you get a life what is the probability that you will be the same man and your lover be the same……………..Stop watching Hindi Films too much…..

And to my friend who joined it ………..Please join more like this……..

In search of you.........

After wrestling in the library for a quarter day, I could not differentiate between’ t’and ‘d’.Such pathetic was my condition. If I could tell someone please off that AC, only to hear my echoed voice reflecting after hitting those big fat books of innumerable racks and would reach back my eardrum which was already frozen.

The library was best of its kind , which would excel what we see in English films. I was surrounded by big books which surely needed a brush up and even the chief librarian’s face needed it. I am explaining and explaining about what…oops my first day at office for the project. I was posted in library….don’t know why…..

The library if not overcrowded was also not under crowded . But the members and me had no emotional equalence in facial expression. Most of them where regular visitors or was here for some purpose.I was not included in the both list. A non regular visitor with no purpose at all that too in the lone corner no one ever would notice. But I was reading and reading so badly that I could not makeup even the alphabets.

I dared not to look up at someone’s face. If I did either they would ask something or explain something, both of which I didn’t want.

But then I saw a shadow walking near me. With the first glance I could see that boy. He sat near me and glanced at me 3-4 times. Then in a low pitched voice said “hello”.

I looked up at the face just to find that it was a girl all dressed as a boy.

“ You work here”

“No I do my project here”

“In which department”

I answered.

“Under whom”

Again I answered

“I work here.”

Now I didn’t answer. Just smiled.

“Do you really have the mood to sit here and read”? she asked

I was asking this question to myself from ages…..but no answer.Before I could say something,she stood up , closed my book and held my hand.”Common let’s go out.”

I could not resist. There was no point in doing so when you are blocked in a place of least importance to you for a quarter day, no intention , no purpose, still reading , still reading…..

I went out with her. Talked about her native in a bit of Hindi, bit of English and a mixture of both Hindi and English.

We talked about food habits, hobbies, why she is dressed like a boy etc etc. We went to the canteen nearby and had coffee which she paid and I resisted in vain cos it was on coupon which she only had. What a relief talking to a stranger in a strange land!!

Then she had to go back to her department and I back to library to get back my books and bag. We exchanged jive promises of meeting again and left. Before my memory could remind me that we have not taken numbers, you walked away. And all I could ask was why do you walk so fast…..?

Days passed faces came and went off which neither I talked nor they. Now I am in search for the face which smiled at me in that deserted land. The same face of you in the 100 plus faces I see each day .With the same low pitch to say “hello”.

As for in the library I still sit on the same lone place for the least you miss me when you come.I don’t know whether my search for you will end fruitlessly or extent infinitesimally…..Still I am in search of you my friend….. When one side have more options compared to none with the other, then there is left with only one thing, just to wait, then to wait and only to wait……still waiting for you.

The more u want the more u get,the more u get still more u want

"They are coming at 10"sounded kitchen with the morning verses.

"But now its just 6,Amma"...I shouted back.....

"So wait until 9.45to get ready....I don't want any last minute mess...hear me..?"

"Yes" as if its me who is in need of the last minute hurry berry.No body wants it.Even I don't like it...but cant help it.

I went to get ready at 8.30. Not because I take a great time in getting ready, but just because I didn't have any other work to do.I was not allowed in kitchen today.I knew better why.Whenever it comes to salt, I had only extremes, either too low or too high, not just with salt but for anything else....I had only extremes.

I was ordered to wear the costliest of my salwar kameezes a red one but I preferred my favourite yellow cotton salwar kameez with blue borders and blue duppatta.But an order was an order.

Now for ornaments.Mother opened the almarah and took out whatever we had in terms of gold and looked up at me."No, wear just one or two pieces.I was looking and seeing which matches you the most."She tried to explain.Sometimes silence is the dangerous of my languages.She knows it pretty well.

I was all ready by 9.45, the time which otherwise I would take to start. I love doing things the last moment.

The boy and his family came at 10,15 , just 15 minutes ahead of the prescribed time. More punctual than me...I hate it. I was supposed to bring the tea tray as was seen in the serials.I didn't have any pre-experience this being my first performance.

I brought the tray as was told to .He looked at me and tried to smile but dropped the plan half way because of my face which showed 110% of alieanism .Can you smile at strangers? I can't ....even if I try .So better not to.

Next section of the sponsored programme was the boy and the girl talking privetly and the parents talking publicly about the givings and takings .

Both of us were brought to my room."So this is your room.Neat and tidy". It was a half a day programme for me to make the heaven out of this hell.You could have come yesterday.But now its all set dear........ I thought...but didn't say.

" You talk less"......again he tried to start a conversation

" No , I talk as usual".I said hesitatingly.

"O.K tell about your family and friends.As of me I have a lot of friends.I minkle with a group very well."

" I have just a hand full"I said . Just 5 or 6 to be more precise.I thought again but didn't say.

" Do you know cooking". "Yes" I said clearly remembering the extremes.

If life is all about meeting , merging and dissolving of indifferences then I would not be precipitated in this solution.........

When it came to hobbies things went more disastrous. For god sake none of our hobbies met.His hobbies included watching cricket , English movies and computer games and mine was bit of reading and hearing music and a bit of scribbling which I didn't say.

"Who is your favourite singer?"

"Mohd Rafi"I said

Then I heard a 150 in the next room.It was the broker's voice or marriage assembler to be more standardized.

150 what.........I thought.By the time he was searching my book shelf.

"Big big books" you really read a lot it seems.

"Yes" but I was concentrated more on the 150.It was 150 sovereign plus a car.You will not get an educated and employed guy in the whole city........as if I was an illiterate.

My father kept silent.Again silence is the best tool to counter.

Now it was time for me to speak....

"What is your idea of marriage".

"So you talk....? Marriage is a beautiful symphony of music."

That symphony is heard only in the heart of girls father and the nots are found on his ECG curves.I thought......

If we get married and we have a girl and after 20 plus years when she is of marriageable age then if someone speaks about gold, money rather than the girl ,as a father how will you feel?"

My eyes wanted him to spill all the beans out and he just said"I will feel bad".

"Then there is somebody over this wall who is feeling bad at this time.Unfortunately he happens to be my father now.After years I am sure you are going to be in his situation.I said this with confidence as if I am his fate maker.Dont you guys feel yourself ashamed to ask things which you are the least privileged to....? Begging or robbery both are illegal....I said with a small yet firm voice .

Enough of conversation I thought.Its already half an hour.That's enough.

He went out and I followed with a smile of satisfaction.

Rest was again as anyone would expect out of a decent family.They wanted some time which we were ready to give.

"Did you like him?" Mother asked

"Yes" I said as I looked at my father...cos I didn't want to explain the whole melodrama..............

It happens, it just happens

Today I have found out that if husbands die, wives have no privilege to cry.....I found it all myself at the death of my friend's father. Just like any other deaths..... normal in silence abnormal in emotions.The day just like any other one calm and quiet .We expected this to happen any day any time. But when the frozen better half was brought she could not make hold of her emotions.She bust out the feelings she compressed for the past two to three hours breaking the great silence which those who came managed to construct and enhance effectively. The whole world came around her just to tell "you are not supposed to cry here".What else is she expected to do , not to cry and then to what?Not to cry and that's all.She had to give up her freedom of expression to nothing.Would anything reveal her off her crying at that moment? I was a decent spectator...decent in all senses. Still one among the minority not allowing her not to cry.