Why don't you write anymore?

 

“Keep writing like so.”

“Why?”

“Whenever you write I feel as if you are trying to convey your own emotions, something that you might want to say directly but can’t.”

“Nothing like that.”

“So you're telling me that the characters in your story aren’t used by you to express yourself?”

“They are just characters in my story with their own opinions and thoughts. They reflect emotions which are generally felt by people anyway. Don’t think too much of it.” He lit his cigarette, sending a puff of smoke in the air as he smoked … blurring Meera’s face. She smiled and said “Whenever I read your stories I feel as if I know something more about you.”

“That’s what you think and what you think is a misconception.” He stood up and said “Just read what I write, don’t read into what I write. Don’t analyse. You might start thinking of things that don’t even exist.”

That was six months ago. He kept writing, she kept reading his work. Only, she stopped commenting and giving her feedback. And then he didn’t publish anything for four months. Such quietness from someone abuzz made her wonder if everything was right with him. She went to his home that evening.

“I thought you forgot where I lived.”

“Oh shut up! I was just going past and thought …”

“For heaven’s sake Meera!” He laughed out loud “What do you mean by “just going past”? My home isn’t in the middle of a market nor does any of your acquaintances live anywhere near here. Your excuses are just as badly cooked as your food.”

She made a face and said “I just came to look up and see if you’re ok. You haven’t written for some time …”

“Because you read me a lot and I want to save something for myself. If I am left with nothing then you will leave me. Just like we discard a plate when there’s nothing left in it.”

Friend?

Frothy waves of the sea ... teasing the shore and scampering back. Reminded me of my childhood when I used to ring my neighbour’s doorbell and run away before anyone could open the door. All its mightiness and yet the sea did behave like an impish child at times.

We were building sandcastles by the sea. Aryan and I. I was making a horrible house while he was making a fine fort. Awful attempt of mine, earnest effort of his.

“Aryan! I can’t seem to get the walls right. It isn’t fair that your fort is coming out so well. Help me with my home.”

Without looking up, he said “No.”

“You heartless cold creature!”

“Thanks!”

“Why do you take pride in being called an iceberg?”

“Saves me from unnecessary drama. The less you care, the less you are hurt. An attitude that you really need to adopt.”

I just sat helplessly and stuck my tongue out at him.

Sensing it somehow, he said “Yes, see! That child inside you isn’t letting you build your sand house properly.”

In what I hoped was a sad voice, I said “You won’t help me? Is that what friends are for?”

He looked up at me. “Friends? Is that ... Is that just what we are? Wow!” And he continued with his fort.

“Ummm ... But then what are we?”

I don’t know why and how but the moment just paused in the air. I couldn’t pin it. His hands were busy and yet I could sense his mind being busy elsewhere. I didn’t say anything further. After nearly half an hour, we both had finished our architectural attempts with the sea sand. And we were now perhaps thinking of appropriate words to break the uneasy silence. What could be said that wouldn’t be ... and a dog came and scrambled our thoughts. I mean the ‘sandcastles’! We both broke up in laughter! An hour of handwork all ruined in a few seconds.

I smiled and said “Ok Aryan, I had better get going. “

“Sure. Take care. See you.”

And we parted ways.

Aryan and I had got acquainted with each other on a social networking site. From sharing opinions to jokes, discussing current affairs and occasionally some gossip as well, our chats never restricted themselves to any particular topic. What I liked most about his was his practical nature, nonchalant attitude and the most remarkable, his wit. Over time, the jokes shared between us got raunchier and ever so slowly the curtain that keeps the formal separate from the candid slipped off. I now discussed almost everything with him. All my worries, beau troubles. He listened patiently and somehow that made all the difference. Telling him my troubles made them vanish from my mind. He too shared his work schedules, his girlfriend and family matters with me. And then one day, we met. At a cafe.

He was the tall, dark and handsome guy of any girl’s dreams. For all his wit and talk, he was even better in person. I thought of all the personal things I had shared with him and my face coloured, much to his amusement. We talked and laughed and enjoyed our time together. Each time that he spoke of his girlfriend his eyes twinkled up and each time that his eyes twinkled up they touched my heart. I don’t know why. As if his smile was a candle flame and my heart was a mirror. I told him of my boyfriend, his fickle childish nature and he laughed, though I don’t know if at me or at my boyfriend.

Over the span of a few months, circumstances had changed. He was still with his girl while I had broken my heart, nursed it back and was moving on with life. And we met a few more times. Like today. But today was different. I couldn’t answer him. He was more than a friend. But then what do you call someone who is more than a friend? Given all its words, the vocabulary failed me.

I reached home and kept my handbag on the table. The mobile buzzed and I picked it. Aryan had messaged me. And as usual, as ever, as always, his message brought a smile on my lips.

I don’t know whether you will agree with him or not but his message read “Accomplice? :P” 

Sent by God

“I am sorry but what can I do?” Lorna spread her arms in the air, looking helpless. “I have to go. Peter cannot pick up Sylvia from the school and I have to pick her up”.

“Yes Lorna, I understand but you had promised ... How am I ever to finish all this by myself?”

She just shook her head and said “I am sorry but I have to go. I will make up for this after the Christmas holidays. Merry Christmas love!”

I just sighed and then smiled at her. “Merry Christmas Lorna! My love to Peter and Sylvia. And don’t worry I’ll finish it off here.”

She beamed her lovely smile at me and left.

I was staring at the paperwork and my computer. I was supposed to leave by 3:00 but I was lucky if I could leave the office before 4:00. Might as well get to the task at hand. I picked up the list of the people whom a personalised message had to be sent by the company ... and I heard Stefan’s cough.

“Why haven’t you left Stefan?”

“Waiting for you.”

“You don’t have to. Look, you won’t be paid overtime for just waiting.”

“No! No! I no do this for money. I wait for you. We leave together. See I already sign my timesheet for 3:00.”

Stefan was a cheerful cheeky Polish immigrant who worked as an office help, though he was mostly assigned menial tasks. He had come to London 6 months back and spoke broken English.

“Stefan! Just leave! Go home!” I said and got back to sending e-mails. Most of them done, now to contact the suppliers ... the clocked ticked away mercilessly ... A few more calls to make ... And it had now started to rain. Drab London weather. It was as if the skies always cried. No wonder many people here suffered from Seasonal Affective Disorder...

“You want tea?”

“Stefan! I thought I had asked you to leave!”

“Ya! You want tea?”

“Stefan! Leave right now or else I will have you fired!”

I turned around and got back to putting files and folders away. At 4:15, I looked around the office. Everything done, no work left pending. I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief but knew that far much more hectic activity awaited me beyond these office doors. I put on my coat, took my bag and umbrella and locked the office door. Will be back after a week of Christmas holidays. I had to renew my travelcard, pick up medicines from the chemist, had to buy some extra gift paper, some groceries ... he had invited his friends yet again for a pre-Xmas dinner ... had to go home and cook ... and I had to face the rush hour commute on the Northern Line .. and my frozen shoulder was playing up very badly. Some holiday it was going to be with all those guests being invited over almost everyday ... I forgot when I had any time for myself ... Giving everyone else no chance to complain and completely neglecting myself ... I craved some time to myself ...

“Ah! You finish!”

“Stefan! You almost gave me a shock there! Why are you still here?” I asked as I was fidgeting with my brolly. He took it from my hand and opened it in a snap. And then handed it back to me.

“Er ... I want to give you something.”

“What Stefan?”

He came close and hugged me ... the hug of a friend. And suddenly I just started crying. Sobbing at first but then warm tears just kept rolling off my cheeks. Stefan just patted me as if I were a small child. “It is okay. You cry, you feel better”.

I felt slightly lighter but foolish too. Stefan gave me his handkerchief. “You better now?”

“Yes. Thank you Stefan. I don’t know what came over me. I was ...”

“No! No! You no explain. I understand. I see your eyes. I know you sad.”

“I am sorry, I didn’t get you”.

“See, when you smile in office only lips smile. Your eyes no smile. No twinkle in eye.”

I just blinked away. I didn’t realise I could be read so easily.

“Stefan, when I asked you to leave so many times, and quite rudely too, why did you stay behind?”

His answer has stayed with me even after all these years. “Ahh that! My mama tell me ‘when someone sad ask you to go away, you never go away. That person need you most. If that person then share his or her sadness, believe my child that the Lord himself send you as an angel to that person. You are blessed by the Lord himself’. I do this for myself ... and see you feel better, no?”

I smiled. I had tears in my eyes but I smiled. The warmth of human compassion which was lost to me had lit a candle inside me. Stefan smiled back. I hugged him and said “God bless you!”

“Ah! Thank you. You take care and Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas Stefan! Have a safe trip to Poland and give my love to your mama!”

We parted our ways ... He probably feeling as angelic as he was and I ... I was feeling quite light in my heart. Yes I had troubles and responsibilities but to know that God was looking out for me and had sent his angel – the thought cheered me up immensely. I promised to myself that I too would try and be “an angel sent by God” to a person in need of basic human warmth, love and compassion. 

Yes, Stefan’s answer has stayed with me even after all these years.

Are you now feeling better, my child?

I sat on the bench, waiting for him to come. I had reached earlier than our agreed time. Maybe because I had a mind full of questions that needed answers and unless I got them, my life was going around in circles. It had lost its sense of direction. And as far as I thought he was duty bound to answer me. We hadn’t talked to each other for 3 months now. Or rather it was me who was avoiding him. The mere mention of his name felt like pieces of broken promises ... scattered all over ... for me to walk barefoot on. Oh! How they stung! I refuse to believe that he was unaware of my agony. But I finally decided to let him clear things for once and all.

The air was quite chilly and I rubbed my hands ... And suddenly I felt warmth. I knew he was beside me. His luminous presence hardly went unnoticed. I stiffened. Refused to look at him. Then I felt his hand on my shoulder. Tears brimming up my eyes. A dam burst somewhere inside me. A dam full of murky hurt, fluid sorrow, drowning loss. Flowed out ... overwhelming me. I sought for tangible pieces of grief but all that I tasted was the salt of my own tears.

He sat down beside me. “Are you all right my child?”

“As if you care!”

He flinched at my words. “I do care for you. I listen to you always, even when you don’t address your words to me. I keep an eye on you always, whichever path you choose. That you don’t believe this is what we are here to resolve today.”

“Really? If you cared then you wouldn’t have taken my mother away from me so brutally. She was the one person who cared for me the most, who loved me the most, who selflessly wished the best for me. Now thanks to you I have no shoulder to cry upon, no hands to pat and console me, no lap in which I can rest my head. That night I had called out to you with all my heart and soul. I reprimanded those who said I was keeping false hopes. I cried inconsolably and not once did you to choose to stand by me. Those calls ... Those prayers ... All for nothing. Not only did I lose my mother that night, I also lost all faith in you.”

I sniffed and continued “There are people who are living their life with each foot in the threshold of either world. But you spare them. People who harm others and do not think twice before committing a heinous crime, say unkind words, see and yet ignore evil, are selfish and rotten to the core. Yet you spare them. People who are living but are unaware of life for it is nothing more than a punishment for them and their body is nothing more than a vegetable. But of course you spare them. So then why didn’t you spare my mother? She had known nothing else but to love her family, help those in need and had refrained from the common evils practised by many. Why? Why didn’t you answer me?”

And I sobbed ... For it was the only thing I did ever since my mother passed away.

His hand was still on my shoulder. “Don’t cry my child. Your mother is watching you and you are hurting her soul by grieving continuously. She loves you. Each one of you. I had to take her away. Believe me, it would have taken an enormous amount of strength for you to see her suffer physically. For each time that you prayed to me I gave her a minute more. But I myself cannot go against the very laws of nature that have been made by me.”

He ran his hand over my head. “I cannot reveal the future to you but you must believe me when I tell you that a chapter had to be ended in order for a new chapter to start. I had to change the course of the stream of all your lives – you and your siblings. And in order to achieve this I had to do what was necessary.”

“There is nothing wrong with our lives. Why mend what is not broken?”

“That is what you think. Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

“I just know that I miss my mom and my heart aches for her. I just want her back. And you were the only one from whom I had expected anything at all. You manifest yourself in female forms too. So I just find it hard to believe how you could never comprehend a woman’s loss in terms of motherhood” I almost whispered.

He now got up. His eyes and demeanour had turned slightly grave. Perhaps he was weary of explaining himself to me over and over again. “You will have to continue life without her and you will have to accept this loss. Your refusal, your stubbornness to do so is hurting all those who care for you. And you, my child, are surely not that selfish. One more thing – you keep saying ‘my mother’. She was your mother in this birth, in this form. She has taken other forms previously and will possibly be reborn many times over too. In every birth she may have been a son or a daughter, a brother or a sister, a friend, a loved one, a spouse, a father or a mother, a grandfather or grandmother, a nephew or niece ... But in every birth that she took and will take, one thing will remain constant – she will be my child, always and forever. Therefore do not grudge my taking her away ... For she is rightfully mine. Just as much as you are. Just as much as every being is.”

He looked at me with love and said “You have to forge ahead. Think of your mom and let the flame of her love brighten up your heart, especially when life feels like a dark stormy night. She is your guardian angel. Always protecting you and all of her children. Stop grieving and look carefully at what I have planted around you.”

I closed my eyes and opened them again ... to see a lovely sunshine ... to see birds chirping away while perched on tall trees ... to see flowers swaying around me ... the air carrying the scent of those flowers ... butterflies hovering around ... and He had gone. I smiled. After what seemed like eons ... I actually smiled from the heart. He had left a lightness in my heart, in my soul. And I managed to hold the hand of a passing shadow ... shadow of a person yet unknown to me ... knowing well that I was being watched over by Him and both my guardian angels – my dad and my mom.