Pulkit Gupta's Blog

Dead Letters

June 1, 2013

Dear S,

This has become a habit now. A useless habit. I used to think that I would send all these letters to you, someday. I was playing around with the idea of leaving them somewhere I knew you’d find them. After all, they are a pretty good representation of the effect you’ve had on my life.

But I now know that I’m never going to show them to you. Never.

Always Yours,

R

***

June 12, 2012

Dear S,

It’s been a week since I heard from you. A week since you went away on that work trip, promising to call me every day.

Writing a letter to you is probably the silliest thing I can do right now – considering that I’ve not been able to reach your phone. Considering that I’ve been emailing you daily, your obvious lack of response doing nothing to diminish my hope – I still check my inbox every five minutes. Also, I don’t really have an address to post this to.

And yet, here I am. I’m writing more for me than you, I guess.

I keep hearing the promises you whispered to me on those dreamy, magical nights. Those nights were too short, I tell you. Too short, and too few, and too long ago in the past.

The story of what you did to the-other-R refuses to get out of my head. You said that he had been a mistake, and cutting off all contact and moving to a different place was the only way you could get rid of him. You said you would never do something like that to me, no matter what. You promised me. Did I make a mistake by trusting you?

Yours,

R

***

July 1, 2012

Dear S,

You’re a whore, you know that? A whore without the morals of one.

I’ve never said this to you, because I was a fool who didn’t want to hurt you. But you’re a coward. A soulless, cowardly whore – that’s exactly what you are.

When you cheated on me, you didn’t even have the guts to come up to me and confess. Everything continued as it was, except I could feel a distance that had not been there before. When I found out about it and confronted you – when you were backed into a corner – that’s when you broke down and said that you didn’t want to hurt me. And guess what? I believed you. I don’t even know if you’ve been faithful to me after that. Or before that. I just blindly trusted you, because I didn’t want to lose you at any cost.

I’m a naive idiot. And you’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.

R

***

August 22, 2012

Dear S,

I was fired from my job yesterday.

It’s been more than two months. I don’t even know if you’re alive – your silence has been so complete and all encompassing.

You know, I told mom about you exactly a month before you disappeared. I certainly didn’t expect a positive reaction from her, but she was kind of supportive in her own stoic way. I was elated that day. And the day I had to tell her that it was over, I knew it shattered her – because she knew it shattered me.

I never knew I had it in me to become an alcoholic – I was always too optimistic, too sure of myself. Remember how I used to make fun of Devdas? How stupid can a guy be, to throw his life away over one girl – those were my exact words. I know exactly what it feels like, now.

It’s a dark road to go down. And the funny thing is that I know it. I know that I’m spiraling, digging my own grave, and making it bigger each day. And that knowledge is not making any difference. The experiences of the countless people who’ve suffered loss before me is not making a fucking difference.

Sometimes, I just want to end it all.

R

***

September 17, 2012

Dear S,

Not that you give a damn, but I turned 25 today.

Mom visited me in the morning. She even got me a small cake. It felt good to know that she still cares for me as much as she did before you happened. I guess that’s the thing about a mother’s love, it’s unconditional.

But then I saw that look in her eyes. It told me a lot of things, even though she’ll never actually say them. I’m 25 years old. I got fired from my job. I have no savings. And I’m an addict who’s spending his birthday in a rehabilitation center. I am a disappointment.

Thank you, I guess.

R

***

December 3, 2012

Dear S,

Last night, I was on the verge. I really was. I’d even made the preparations – sleeping pills and all. I had a few drinks of whisky while writing a letter to my parents – a letter full of empty words and useless apologies – trying my best to explain to them what I was going through, and why I had decided to take such a drastic step.

Just as I poured myself another drink and opened the bottle of pills, the door opened and you walked in. You looked stunning, as always. You came and sat in front of me, and looked into my eyes. You had this look on your face. No words were needed. When you kissed me, everything was right in the world again.

We talked, and you told me your story, and I believed you. As I always have. For the past six months, I had only felt an intense hatred – towards you, myself, and the world in general. In those moments last night, I could feel that hatred gradually slipping away.

Maybe I’ve decided to be a fool. But a happy fool.

Yours,

R

PS: I’ve thrown away the pills and burnt the letter.

***

February 14, 2013

Dear S,

Of course I had to write you a letter on Valentine’s Day.

The last two months have been brilliant. I’ve been so happy that the period of great sorrow is nothing more than a distant memory now.

Mom’s better. No matter what I tell her, she knows exactly how I’m feeling. She always sees through my words and right into my soul. And now that she sees I’m happy, she’s happy. It’s almost magical, how her health and happiness are inextricably linked to mine. And mine, to you.

Thank you.

Always Yours,

R

***

June 5, 2013

Dear S,

It’s amazing. Exactly a year ago, I was sure of everything – most of all that, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. As I write to you today, I’m not even sure of my own sanity anymore.

My days are dark and fuzzy. The medication makes it harder to stay awake, harder to think clearly. I feel tired all the time.

You are the brightest part of my day, each day. The one hour you spend with me reminds me of my reality. You’re like a ray of hope that gives me the strength to carry on and not give in. You’re my silver lining. Mom visits me every day too, of course.

The doctors tell me that you died. A year ago. They say that the you I’m seeing now is not real – that my brain made you up as a coping mechanism. They say that I need to accept reality if I want to have a normal life.

The doctors don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about. I’m not crazy. Am I?

I love you. Always.

Yours,

R

—

Note: A dead letter is one that can neither be delivered nor returned to the sender.

The Date

FRIDAY

The old lady had a smile on her face.

Just by looking at her one could tell that she had once been beautiful and admired. But age leaves no one untouched. Her face, which had once been as pure and bright as a fresh rose, had withered away as every rose is destined to. Her body, which had once been firm and shapely, was now frail and sagging. Her demeanor, which had once been proud and confident, was now lonely and unsure.

She was sitting on her bed in her night gown, getting ready to sleep. Looking at her house, one could say that she was well-to-do. Her bedroom was one of affluence and had a positive atmosphere about it, unlike the rooms of most old people. The walls were adorned by pictures of her family, and of herself in her prime. She clearly loved her family. However, she also wished she could return to her old life, the life of her youth.

Even though her children took good care of her, she had grown extremely lonely after her husband had, died a few years ago. They did visit her often, but they had lives of their own, and she knew it was unreasonable for her to expect more than an occasional glimpse of her children and grandchildren.

She had made peace with her loneliness. And it was days like tomorrow that kept her going.

She picked up the alarm clock from her bedside. It was 9 PM, and she set the alarm for 6 AM. She took a small sip of water from her glass and put away her artificial dentures. Before she slept, she looked at the note once again. The note she’d read countless times since that evening.

R will pick you up at 9 AM tomorrow for your appointment with the dentist.

The old lady drifted to sleep. The smile never left her lips.

***

The young man entered the house and slammed the front door shut. He was clearly unhappy about something and was making no effort to hide it, even though the house was empty that night. Or perhaps that was the reason.

The house was large and spoke of affluent occupants. The interiors were exquisite and the lighting was brilliant. The furniture was custom made and ornate showpieces adorned various nooks and crannies. There was a wall full of beautiful family photographs showing how they had changed through the years.

His parents were on a weekend getaway and he had been looking forward to partying through the weekend. He was out pubbing with friends when he had received his father’s text message.

Pick up grandmama at 9 AM tomorrow for her appointment with the dentist.

Normally he wouldn’t have minded running an errand like this. It was just that he had to bail on his friends and miss out on a fun night of partying. And he hated waking up early on weekends.

He stepped into the kitchen and picked up a soda from the fridge. He then climbed a short flight of stairs up to his room and switched on the air conditioning. The heap of clothes on his chair was almost as high as him. Empty chips packets and soda cans were strewn across the floor, as were numerous crumpled sheets of paper. It looked like he wrote a lot, but ended up throwing most of it away.

He slipped out of his clothes and took a cold shower. That seemed to calm his temper. After putting on his night robes, he powered up his computer and started a chat client. There was no way he could sleep that early on a Friday night, even if he did have to get up early in the morning.

He was a popular guy and had many friends. He was also smart enough to know that if push came to shove, most of them weren’t really his friends. But he had an insatiable need to connect with people, to talk to someone all the time. Especially girls. He knew he was being shallow, but he didn’t care. There were only a handful of people who he really thought of as his friends and who knew him at all. Oddly enough, his current girlfriend wasn’t one of them.

He chatted through the night with a bunch of people, mostly bitching about his parents for making him wake up early on a Saturday. A girl he liked was online, so he casually flirted with her for a while. He was planning to break up with his girlfriend anyway. He also squeezed in a couple of episodes of his favorite sitcom, before finally dragging himself to bed at 5 AM. Dawn was almost ready to break outside.

***

SATURDAY

The old lady hadn’t slept well. She had been restless the whole night, tossing and turning, drifting in and out of an uneasy sleep. It was as if she was nervous about the day to come. Nervous, yet excited. She was like a child who couldn’t sleep properly before an exciting trip. Despite not being fully rested, she sprung to her feet as soon as the alarm rang, early in the morning.

She slowly made her way to the bathroom, stifling a yawn. The marble floor was cool, and the winter air chilled her bones. She eagerly stepped under the old shower, and her body relaxed under the hot water oozing from it. She stepped out after a long bath and stood in front of the mirror, feeling more confident. It had been a long time since she had really looked at her reflection in the mirror. Behind her dangling locks, her eyes sparkled and a smile decorated her face.

She spent a good half hour trying to decide which dress to wear. Once she was dressed, she started putting on makeup. It was almost as if she was getting ready for a date.

***

The young man was shaken out of his deep sleep by the relentless buzzing of his alarm. He had already hit the snooze button twice. He knew he couldn’t delay it any longer or he would be late. He forced himself to get up, splashed cold water on his face, and put on the first pair of clean clothes he could lay his hands on. He was out of the house within 5 minutes of waking up. He drove like a maniac and reached his grandmother’s place at the stipulated time.

He got out of the car and rang the doorbell. He waited one full minute before ringing it again. As the seconds ticked by he got more and more restless. Restless, yes, but not angry. It was a whole 5 minutes before his grandmother opened the door with a broad smile on her face.

***

The old lady was just about ready when the doorbell rang. She was not as agile as she had once been, doing things that much longer. But she was sure her grandson would understand that. Even though she hurried after the doorbell rang for a second time, it took her 5 minutes to powder her face, wear her favorite perfume, and make her way to the front door. Her smile was at its broadest when she caught the first sight of her grandson’s face.

***

They were at the dentist’s. The old lady had gone in for her appointment and the young man was waiting for her outside. He was visibly bored. He glanced at the magazine rack but all the issues were old, so he didn’t bother picking any up. He took out his cell phone and started fiddling with it. It was a top of the line touch-screen smartphone. He opened his contact list and picked out some friends to text with, though he was not sure if any of them would be up so early on a weekend. With nothing to keep his mind occupied, his eyelids began to droop and he fell asleep with his phone clutched in his hand..

The loud SMS alert tone woke him up. It was the default Nokia tone. He instinctively checked his phone, but then remembered that he’d set it to vibrate. Then he saw a simple Nokia phone lying on the table in front of him. It was his grandmother’s. He picked it up out of curiosity. The message was from an unknown number so he opened it.

Luxury homes in prime locations at affordable prices! Ready to move in! Please contact: 9976323452.

He checked the rest of her inbox. There were 30 odd messages dating back to a month or so, all of them advertisements. He then opened her contacts list. There were only 5 contacts: his father, mother, himself, his uncle and aunt. His phone had close to 500 contacts. The stark contrast struck him. He marveled at how small his grandmother’s world was and how lonely she must be. How much the times had changed.

He was lost in his thoughts when his grandmother came out of the doctor’s room. He politely enquired if everything had gone okay and escorted her to the car. Her smile seemed to have faded somewhat, though.

***

They were in the car and speeding towards her house. With every passing second her smile withered, as everything beautiful is bound to.

Suddenly, the traffic in front of them came to a standstill. Nothing moved for a few minutes, and the young man started getting agitated. He got out of the car and walked ahead to find out what was going on. An accident had taken place and the road was blocked. It was very hot outside and as a result the tempers were flaring. People were honking and yelling at each other, and overall progress was very slow. Sweat was streaming across his face by the time got back into the car. He turned up the air conditioner and started tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, swearing under his breath. He had been looking forward to taking a nap after he got home.

The change in his grandmother’s demeanor, though, was exactly the opposite. She gazed after her grandson in curiosity when he got out of the car, and as she realized that they would be stuck there for a while, her expression changed from one of disappointment to one of joy. In the midst of the chaos, there was one point of serenity. The smile had returned to the her face.

***

The little boy came back home crying, because his friends had not let him bat while playing cricket. He rushed to his room and slammed the door behind him. His parents were out of town, and his grandmother was the one taking care of him in their absence. She gently knocked on his door and entered his room, wearing a brilliant red saree and a loving smile. She hugged the boy and asked him why he was upset. She then whispered something in his ear, and he immediately stopped crying and hugged her back. They went for ice-cream after dinner that night.

***

The police arrived with a towing van, almost an hour later, and cleared the road. As the traffic started flowing, the old lady’s smile started fading again. Her face was stoic and expressionless by the time they reached home. She was visibly dejected as she said goodbye to her grandson and got out of the car. As she started walking towards the door, the car started moving forward.

The young man looked in the rear-view mirror. His grandmother looked very frail as she slowly walked towards the door. Her shoulders were sagging. Her body language suggested that she was fighting a losing battle with herself.

He remembered how dependent he used to be on his grandmother, how she used to take care of him when his parents went on business trips, how she used to read to him and play with him, how she used to make him feel special. And suddenly, he realized how she was now dependent on him.

With another quick glance at the rear-view mirror he braked, stopped the car, and hit reverse.

Storm Clouds and the Sun

As the storm clouds gather

and the cold rain bursts forth,

his mind’s burdens grow heavy on him

and can no longer hide from his demons.

Whisky in hand and with a heavy heart,

he looks back through the shadows of his years -

only to find a monster staring,

with bared fangs and bloodshot eyes.

A curse on his lips, he starts pacing

and with his mind’s eye, squints into the distance -

only to see an old man struggling

with stooping shoulders and a bent back.

He stares, eyes wide with horror

as his mind unravels the secret of time -

the days go by too slowly,

but the years have passed him by too fast.

He gasps for breath as his mind searches,

for something to make him carry on.

But he knows he is only clutching at straws,

and he feels his will crumble.

He always thought that there was no meaning,

but now he truly believes it.

And so he pours himself a generous serving,

for it is to be his last drink.

Just as he decides to end it all,

and with trembling hands, reaches for his gun,

loads it and puts it to his temple,

the clouds part and the sun bursts to life.

The Departure of the Awesome Aliens of Gun Building!

I silently make my way through the grounds of the old manor, where the evil doctor has taken my friends prisoner. I have to be careful, for the night is cloudless and the moon is shining brightly. I know the grounds are guarded by creatures so foul that their name can’t be spoken in any earthly language, but I’ve been lucky enough not to run into any of them so far.

The estate is bigger than I had estimated. I steal a quick glance at my watch – it is almost midnight. If I don’t make it to the dungeon in the next few minutes, the doctor will extract my friends’ souls and feed them to the demons! I quicken my pace, forgetting all about the dark guards and my own safety.

I hear a voice in my head, a female voice saying “you’ll get late, hurry up!”. But I don’t have time to ponder. I continue, ignoring the voice. I can see the manor’s door now, and I sprint towards it, knowing that my friends are almost out of time. Just as I’m about to reach the door, a black robed, red faced creature springs out of nowhere and blocks my path. It is tall, muscular, and has a sword in its hand. Afraid that I might be too late if I let the battle drag on for too long, I unsheathe my own sword and charge towards the creature..

“Rahul, wake up! You’ll be late for school!” Mom’s shrill voice takes over my consciousness as I jolt out of my dream.

“MOOOM,” I say, while rubbing my eyes and stifling a yawn. “I was about to kill the dark guard and save my friends!”

“Yeah, sure, why don’t you ask one of them to go write your exam for you to return the favor?” she says, grinning.

I grin back and drag myself out of bed. Mom pats my head and asks me to get ready.

As I splash cold water on my face to wake myself up, I realize that today is my last exam, and we will be travelling to Delhi tomorrow morning, to visit my grandparents! I don’t really like Delhi – it’s so hot, and I don’t have anyone to play cricket with, and my grandmother eats my head all the time. But Rachna auntie does treat me to some tasty food, and I get to read a lot and buy some cool toys. And of course, there’s the train journey! We have been going to Delhi for my summer vacations for as long as I can remember, and the best part is always the train journey!

I’m staring at the mirror, daydreaming, with my toothbrush hanging out of my mouth, when my mom comes in and starts screaming at me. I quickly finish getting ready, but I can hear the school bell going off by the time I rush out of the house. Luckily, we live right behind my school, and I manage to make it in time.

As I sit in the classroom, waiting for the math question papers to be distributed, I start daydreaming about the train journey. My friend Nikhil, who sits next to me, taps my hand to get my attention. As I turn to face him, he winks at me. I wink back and smile at him. We have a secret pact to help each other out during exams.

After the exam, Nikhil and I exit the classroom together, with smug grins on our faces. We exchange our secret handshake and excitedly discuss how awesome our pact is. As we are walking towards the school gate, we see Gauri. My heart skips a beat as I see that she is looking towards me, smiling. Nikhil knows that I really like her, so he quietly keeps walking as I stop to talk to her.

“How was your exam?” she asks.

“It was g-good, how w-w-was yours?” I reply in a strange, high pitched voice. How did I always manage to look like an idiot in front of her?

“Mine was good too,” she replies with a giggle. “What are you doing for the holidays?”

“I am g-going to Delhi to visit my grandparents,” I reply, with less stammering and more smiles. “What about you?”

“My grandparents live in our house only, so I’ll just stay at home,” she says. Oh, she is so pretty!

We say bye to each other and I start walking towards the main gate. I see mom waiting for me, smiling and waving, and I pretend to look away. What if Gauri sees my mom treating me like such a kid?

***

We are finally at the Secunderabad railway station! It’s 6.30 in the morning and I can barely keep my eyes open. I walk with mom, holding her hand, as dad walks next to the coolie who is carrying our suitcases. My backpack is slung across my shoulders. It has the Famous Five book I’m reading, and my secret diary.

The station is already very busy, with breakfast vendors shouting at the top of their voices, and people rushing in all directions. I start to get excited.

Once we reach the platform, I go to the edge and peer towards both sides, trying to see if our train is coming yet.

“Honey, that’s dangerous!” Mom says, and pulls me away.

I walk to the magazine stall and start looking wistfully at the comics they have. Dad shows up beside me and picks up a couple of newspapers. Then he looks at me and says, “Go on, which ones do you want?”

My eyes light up, as I pick out the latest editions of Tinkle Digest and Chacha Chaudhary. Dad pays for them and we walk back to where mom is waiting, with me carrying my newly acquired comic books with pride.

Soon, a loud horn blares and our train begins pulling in to the platform. I watch with growing excitement as everything around us suddenly bursts to life. People start gathering their luggage. Some of them start walking forward quickly, to catch up with their bogies. As our bogie passes by, dad leads the way towards it and I follow with mom.

Once we’re inside, dad puts the suitcases under our seats. I quickly rush to the window seat and sit down with my backpack. I love looking out of the window, especially when the train is travelling at full speed. I carefully look outside. Breakfast vendors are trying to sell food to passengers through the windows. People are saying goodbye to each other. Coolies are carrying 3 or 4 large bags or pulling along luggage carts.

The train’s horn blares. I know that the driver sounds the horn twice before the train begins to move, to give people time to get inside safely. I look inside. Mom and dad are sitting next to me. An old, fat lady comes and sits on the berth opposite ours, followed by a mother and her little daughter. The little girl looks as old as me. She looks at me with a smug face, as she munches on a chocolate her mother has just given her. I decide that she is annoying.

Soon, the horn blares a second time, and the train starts moving forward slowly. I look outside again as the platform begins to slide backwards. Some people are walking along the train, waving. Slowly, the train starts gathering speed. It has become quite fast by the time it pulls out of the station. As the cool morning breeze hits my face, I feel a rush of excitement going through me.

Once the train is at full speed, I take out my comic books from my backpack. As a rule, I never start reading till the train has caught full speed. It feels wrong, somehow. After spending a few minutes pondering over which one to read, I open the Tinkle Digest and start reading a chapter on Suppandi the Simple. The old lady has fallen asleep, with her head leaning against the window. The girl is also sleeping, with her head on her mother’s lap. I feel awesome for reading instead of falling asleep.

I lose track of time as I read, and it is 10.30 by the time I finish reading my comics. Dad buys us some breakfast from the vendors who walk around in the train. I eat hungrily. When I go to wash my hands, I stand near the basin for a while afterwards. A man is standing at the door, looking outside. The view is much better from the door, as there are no bars.

I walk back after I get bored. The train is moving at full speed, and I’m walking in the direction the train is going. “Dad, look, I’m walking faster than the train!” I tell my father gleefully.

“That’s true, son,” dad replies, smiling widely as if I’d said something really smart. The little girl looks at me like I’m an idiot.

I climb to the top berth. Till last year, I was too scared to climb to the top berth alone, this year I manage. Feeling proud of myself, I peer down and ask mom to hand me my backpack. I take out my Famous Five novel and start reading.

***

I awake with a start. The train is coming to a halt. I quickly glance at my watch. It reads 3 pm. I breathe a sigh of relief and start looking around. Mom is sleeping on the lower berth, and dad is sitting by the window, looking outside. The old lady is now awake and is reading a Hindi book. The little girl is also reading. I feel silly for falling asleep, and quickly start reading my own book.

The train stands still for quite a long while. I start to get annoyed. I look at my watch again – it is 3.30 pm. I climb down and sit next to dad. Mom has also woken up. She looks tired.

“Why is the train not moving, dad?” I ask.

“I don’t know son,” dad replies. “There may have been some fault in the line.”

“What is a fault in the line?” I ask.

“Something like a power failure, or a signal not working correctly,” dad replies.

“Oh, okay,” I say. “I’m really waiting for the mountains to start. They’re my favorite part of the journey.”

“I know, son,” dad says, “we’ll be there soon.”

I get more annoyed as the train stands still for 10 more minutes before finally lurching to a start. I start getting excited again as the train picks up speed. I take the window seat from my dad and start looking outside eagerly, checking the time every few minutes. The watch was a gift from my parents for my ninth birthday last year, and I am very proud of it. I sometimes keep it on even while bathing, it is a waterproof model.

A road runs next to the railway tracks, I can see trucks and buses and cars moving on it. But the train is moving much faster than them. The road turns into a railway crossing, and a line of vehicles are waiting behind the barricade, for us to pass. We cross an empty station and I see a building near it with “ABANDONED” written on it. It looks like a nice hideout, but before I can look closely, the train has crossed it. As the train goes through a slight curve, I can see the mountains ahead in the distance. I start getting excited.

The old woman is looking at me with a smile on her face. I look back at her.

“Look at the trees, little one,” she says. “They’re running backwards!”

“No they’re not!” I reply.

“Yes they are,” she insists. “If you look closely enough, you can see it!”

And so I start looking carefully at the trees, and it does seem like they’re running in the opposite direction. I look at the old woman again and smile.

Pretty soon, the mountains start. I’m really happy. I have a big grin on my face as the train passes through one tunnel after next, it’s horn echoing through them. I really like how it suddenly becomes pitch black, and just as suddenly, all bright again. But it is the red valley I’m really waiting for.

After passing through a very long tunnel, we finally enter the red valley. The hills are very close to the railway track, and slope downwards very gently. And they are covered with trees as far as I can see – trees which have huge red leaves. It is really beautiful, and I feel happy when I look at the trees. The old lady is looking at me, smiling.

***

It’s night. We eat dinner and lie down on our berths to go to sleep. I can see that the old woman and her family have already fallen asleep. The train will reach Delhi in the morning. As I fall asleep, I think about the red valley and how I actually want to go there someday, not just look at it from the window of a train.

I wake up suddenly. It is dark, and it takes me a minute to remember where I am. I realize that the train isn’t moving. Then I hear someone sobbing softly, as if in pain. I look down to see that mom is lying on her side, holding her stomach. It is she who is sobbing. I can’t see dad anywhere. I suddenly feel an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. Then I realize that I’m shivering.

A part of me wants me to close my eyes and hope this is just a dream. Another part tells me to go down to mom. I slowly get up and climb down, almost slipping on my way because my hands are trembling. I sit down next to mom and start stroking her head. She sees me and smiles weakly.

“W-What happened, mom?” I ask, trying not to cry.

“I’m a little ill, baby,” mom replies. “I have a stomachache.”

“Will you be okay?” I ask.

“Yes, I will. Don’t worry,” she says. But she sounds very weak.

“A-and where’s dad?” I ask.

“He has gone looking to see if he can find a doctor,” she replies.

I nod and look at my watch. It is 3 am. I keep stroking my mom’s head for a while. She has closed her eyes as if she’s sleeping, but she moves around uncomfortably. I close my eyes and start to pray.

Please make my mom feel okay, God. I will give you my nice books and I will pray every day. Just make my mom feel okay.

I repeat my prayer over and over again, under my breath. I am very scared. The old woman is also awake now, she looks at me kindly and says, “Don’t worry child, your mom will be okay soon.”

After a few minutes, dad comes back along with a man carrying a briefcase in his hand. It looks like he has managed to find a doctor! Dad gently wakes mom up. The doctor asks her where she’s feeling the pain, and asks her a few more questions. He then takes out some medicine from his briefcase and asks mom to take it every two hours till we reach Delhi. Dad thanks the doctor and he leaves. Mom takes the medicine, and she immediately feels better. She drifts off into sleep with dad and I watching over her.

“You’re a brave boy, son” dad says, patting me on the back. “Go back to sleep now. Your mom will be okay.”

I feel better already. I thank God, climb back to the top berth, and fall asleep immediately.

***

Mom shakes me awake in the morning.

“MOOOM, I don’t want to get up yet,” I say irritably.

“Okay. You will miss the gun building, but up to you,” she says sweetly.

“OH! The gun building!” I exclaim happily, feeling very awake. I sit up and rub my eyes. I look down at mom – she is looking much better than last night. I smile at her, and she smiles back. I pack my books back inside my backpack and climb down.

As I sit down next to the window, I notice the old woman looking at me again. She smiles at me and hands me a sweet. “You’re a god boy. Here, take this,” she says.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I say and happily accept the sweet.

The train is moving much slower now. I check my watch – the time is 8.30 am. I know we are about to reach the Delhi station soon – we are already moving through the city. I keep my eyes peeled as I watch out for the gun building. It is shaped very differently than normal buildings. Half the building is taller than the other half, and it looks a little like an alien space gun I had when I was really small. I don’t tell my parents, but I think that it is actually the hidden base of aliens who are on earth for a top secret mission. Every time we cross the building, I feel a little sad for the aliens because they haven’t been able to return to their home planet yet. But I really like looking at the gun building.

“We’re almost there, son, the gun building should be right around the corner,” dad says.

My heart starts beating faster as I get excited. But as we turn the corner, the gun building is not there! I slam my hand against the window, a little sad, but more excited. Dad is looking out for it with me, so he pats my head and says, “It’s okay, son. They must have demolished the building, it was quite old anyway.  How about we go to the planetarium today?”

I don’t reply, but a wide grin is pasted on my face. I think about explaining it to dad, but I decide that he won’t believe me. I’m so happy for the aliens!

By 9.30, the train pulls into Delhi station. As mom and dad are taking the suitcases out from under the berth, I see my grandfather waiting for us on the platform. I rush out to meet him, screaming “GRANDPAAA”. I almost trip over myself in my excitement.

***

Note: This story was written for an anthology about Indian Railways.

Cigarette Burns

The young man was smoking a cigarette outside his apartment complex, minding his own business, when he noticed an older man just standing there, looking at him intently. The look on his face was difficult to decipher – he looked angry and upset. The young man, of course, didn’t care, so he flicked out his cigarette out and went home. He forgot about the old man within a couple of minutes.

The young man liked to go outside for his smokes. He liked to feel the chill of the winter air on his face – it helped him think clearly. He could often be found strolling through the streets, a cigarette in his lips, lost deep in thought. He worked in the software industry. He was reasonably happy with his job, but he had always had this unshakable feeling inside him that he was meant to do something bigger, something better. He liked to think of himself as a writer – he wanted to be famous one day.

***

He caught the same old man staring at him a couple of days later. Same as before, he was just standing there, staring at him. He looked gaunt and a bit pale, like he hadn’t slept in a while. The constant stare disconcerted the young man a little, so he decided to confront the old man.

“Is there a problem, sir?” He walked up to the old man and asked.

The old man seemed not to have heard the question. He just stood there, without moving. His eyes were out of focus.

“IS there a problem, SIR?” The young man repeated, louder than before. That seemed to jolt the old man back to his senses. He dropped his gaze and started walking away, muttering something under his breath. The young man let it go.

That night he thought about it, though. He couldn’t figure out what the old man was up to, but the staring was starting to hit a nerve.

***

The young man noticed the old man a few times over the next few weeks. He noticed that he always walked slowly, with his head hung low and shoulders drooping. He saw that he often bumped into things and other people.

It started raining heavily one night, just as the young man was getting back from work. He didn’t have an umbrella, so he started jogging. As he rushed to enter the building, he saw the old man standing slouched against a wall, letting the ice-cold rain drench him completely, making no attempt to move out of the way. The sight disconcerted him a little, but he quickly rushed inside.

Without realizing it and without knowing why, the young man felt a tinge of pity.

***

The young man was walking home late on a Thursday evening, feeling happy about the work he’d done, a cigarette in his lips as usual, when he suddenly saw the old man walking out of the apartment complex. As the young man walked towards him, the old man turned and looked directly at him. There was a sudden look of recognition on his face. Then he saw the cigarette and something changed in him. He moved forward with energy the young man had never seen in him before. Before he could react, the old man raised his arm and landed a tight slap on his face. He dropped his cigarette.

The young man was completely taken by surprise, and before he knew what was happening, the old man slapped him once more, harder than before. That made him come to his senses, and he blocked the old man before he could land a third blow.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” The young man shouted. “The only reason I’m not hitting you back is because of your age!”.

The old man seemed taken aback by the young man’s show of resistance. He looked at his face again, and something suddenly changed in him. The sudden burst of energy that had taken over him died out, and the fire went out of his eyes. His hands dropped, his head bowed down, and he said, “I’m so sorry, my son,” before he turned and walked away, trembling.

The young man pulled out another cigarette and quickly lit it, trying to control his rising anger. As he started pacing, he noticed the security guard. He had been there the whole time, but made no attempt to intervene.

“What the FUCK, man? Why were you just standing around?” His anger shifted to the security guard.

“Don’t you know what happened?”  The guard asked, tentatively.

“What has happened? That man has gone mad – that’s what’s happened!”

“Sir, that man lost his son today. He had lung cancer. He looked a lot like you, sahib. Similar age, similar height, similar face.”

The young man was left speechless. He felt an inexplicable sense of guilt, though he knew he had done nothing at all. He instinctively flicked out his cigarette and started pacing around, trying to process what he had just heard. Not knowing what else to do, he left an anonymous card and wreath on the old man’s doorstep – more for himself than for the old man.

 

Encryption

Do you remember

The Holy moments

When we mistook

Liberty for Heartbreak

Heartbreak for life

Life for Death

Death for Love

Love for Freedom

And nothing for something?

-

This is a guest post, written by quite an amazing writer, poetess, existentialist, and fledgeling musician.

Stay tuned for more!

Be Free!

The raging river rushes;

unchecked and free

Only to get caught in the whirlpool -

Before it breaks free again.

The vast ocean sleeps;

calm and undisturbed

Only for the maelstrom to rise and swirl -

Before it subsides again.

Such is man’s life also

Through happiness and sorrow

But both are powerful prisons

For in neither is he truly free.

“My money”, the man says;

“My children and my wife”

“My name and fame”, he asks -

“Are they naught but lies?”

They are real, comes an answering voice;

As real as your body and mind

But you are attached to them -

That’s where your folly lies.

Be the raging river; be free!

Be the vast ocean; be free!

Let the whirlpools of worldly life

Be naught but momentary ripples

Be Free!

–

The inspiration for this poem came from a lecture by Swami Vivekananda. You can read it here if you like.

Insomnia

Sometimes, under the cover of night

As the stars shine against a dark sky

The world is simple and makes sense

A path emerges in the maze

Such nights, I wish they would never end

But I grow weary and lay down to rest

And as I sleep, I forget

 

Friendly Neighbours

It was evening. The sun was setting, and the street was illuminated by the dull orange glow of the setting sun. Adam was sitting in the balcony of his apartment, winding down after a long workday. He lit a cigarette and started absently gazing at the street below. He liked to observe people.

The street was almost deserted at this hour. There was only one person in sight. Though Adam couldn’t really make out from a distance, the guy seemed tall and well built, but he was walking with his shoulders hunched and his face bowed down – like he’d had a really bad day. Adam started following the guy’s slow footsteps with his eyes, as he enjoyed his smoke.

Suddenly, the guy stopped in his tracks and started staring at something towards his right. Adam couldn’t see what it was, but something had obviously drawn his attention. He slowly started walking towards the object of his attention. He then bent over and picked up something. Adam squinted to see clearly, it looked like a wallet. As the guy opened it and looked at what was inside, his demeanor changed dramatically – his frame suddenly became alert and business like, as if whatever was in the wallet had suddenly infused a mysterious energy into him. Adam’s interest was piqued.

Adam continued to look on as the guy now took out a folded sheet of paper from inside the wallet. As he unfolded and read though it, there was once more a drastic change in his frame. His excitement was replaced with what looked like nervous fear. He stood there for a few moments, staring at the sheet of paper in his hands, as if trying to decide what to do. Then he folded the paper up, put it back in the wallet, and placed the wallet back exactly where he had found it. Then, he did something really strange – he started running at breakneck speed, back where he had come from. What the hell? Adam thought.

Adam was so intrigued by the events that had just unfolded in front of him that he forgot his fatigue, stubbed out his cigarette, and exited his apartment in a rush. In the few moments it took him to reach the street, his mind raced through numerous possibilities about what could possibly be written on that paper, what could have made that man react in the way he did. It has to be something supernatural, he decided as he exited the apartment’s gate and stepped onto the street.

He rushed to the spot where the man had stopped, and quickly picked up the wallet. When he opened it, the first thing he saw was a bank cheque, which entitled the bearer to the sum of a million dollars. His heart started racing as he tried to digest what he had just seen. A million dollars! He probably wouldn’t need to work for the rest of his life, if he got that much money! Before his happiness could last for too long, though, Adam saw the folded sheet of paper, tucked away neatly right next to the cheque. He took it out, unfolded it and started reading. It was a typewritten note.

***

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

Hi,

Today’s your lucky day!

As you can see, attached to this note is a cheque for a million dollars! It is real, and if you go to a bank and get it cashed, you will get the money! However, there’s the small matter of getting to the bank.

Don’t take this and walk away. Take this, and you’ll have to run. Moving targets are difficult. But that’s what will make the game fun for me.

Cheers,

Your Friendly Neighborhood Sniper

PS: I’m a moving target expert.

PPS: But it is a lot of money.

PPPS: If you decide not to play with me, put everything back exactly as you found it for my next target. Or I’ll shoot you anyway.

***

Adam’s blood froze as he read through the note. His mind went numb with fear. The possibility of getting shot in the head was so real to him in that moment, he could almost picture it. His hands started shaking uncontrollably. His first instinct was to throw down the wallet and run for his life, but he forced himself not to.

He summoned up all his will to stop his hands from shaking. Then, he neatly folded up the note again and put it back in the wallet, next to the cheque. He cautiously bent down and placed the wallet back on the street, exactly where he had found it.

Then, he allowed his instincts to take over and ran for his life.

Heaven

“And so, the young prince and princess lived happily ever after,” Ajay said, as he finished reading the story to his daughter Maya, like he did every night.

It was winter. Despite their house being centrally heated, Maya was curled up under a blanket with her face barely visible.

“Thank you, daddy,” she said, stifling a yawn. Her eyes were drooping. She was almost asleep.

“You’re welcome, darling. You should go to sleep now, you have school tomorrow,” Ajay said.

“Good night daddy. I love you,” she said.

“I love you too, kiddo,” Ajay said, as he got up from her bedside and switched off all the lights apart from her night lamp. Maya was afraid of the dark.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Ajay said to Mitali as they sat down to watch some TV together before going to bed.

“That she is,” Mitali said, smiling.

Maya had already fallen asleep when he checked on her a few minutes later. She had a smile on her face.

***

Maya hopped off her school bus happily, expecting her mother to be there waiting for her, as she was every day. She was surprised to find her grandmother waiting for her instead, shuffling around nervously. A look of relief crossed her grandmother’s face when she saw Maya walking towards her. She hurried forward.

“What happened, nani?” Maya asked, as her grandmother took her hand. “Where is mom?”

“She had to go out for some work, child. Are you hungry?” she asked.

“Yes, very!” Maya replied, excitedly.

“Good! Let’s get inside quickly. I’ll fix you a sandwich,” she said.

They went inside, and her grandmother made Maya a cheese sandwich. After she finished eating, she took out her books and started working on her homework, like she did every day. Once she finished that she went to the living room, where her grandmother was watching TV. It was late evening, and it was starting to get dark.

“Nani?” Maya said tentatively, her voice sounding scared.

“Yes, child?” her grandmother asked.

“Where is mom? She’s never left me alone for this long before,” Maya replied.

“Don’t worry child, she will be back soon,” her grandmother said, trying to sound reassuring. “Do you want to watch some cartoons?”

“Okay,” Maya replied, and flipped the TV to her favorite cartoon channel.

Suddenly, the phone rang.

“I’ll get it,” the grandmother said, as she sprang to her feet and rushed towards the phone. She was usually very loud on the phone, but today, she spoke very quietly. Within a few seconds of picking up the phone, a crestfallen look crossed her face which she quickly masked. Maya was too engaged in her cartoon to notice.

After a few minutes, the main door opened and Mitali walked in, looking flustered and short of breath. Maya jumped to her feet and rushed towards her mother as soon as she saw her entering.

“I missed you mom!” Maya said as she wrapped her arms around her mother.

“I missed you too darling,” Mitali said. Her voice was cracking.

As Maya looked up at her, she saw that tears were streaming down her face and her eyes were red. Looking at her mother’s tears, Maya couldn’t control herself and burst out crying as well.

“Wh-what’s wrong, mommy? Why are you crying?” Maya asked.

“Honey, I need to tell you something,” Mitali said. She lead Maya to the couch and made her sit down.

“Maya,” Mitali said. “Y-your father had an accident. He is in the hospital.”

Maya stared at her mother with a blank expression. She didn’t say anything for a few moments.

“Okay. Can I go see him now?” she finally asked, in a surprisingly calm voice.

“Yes, honey. We can go to the hospital now,” Mitali said.

Ajay was in the ICU. He was barely conscious. Both his legs were plastered up. He had a number of tubes and wires attached to various parts of his body, and a bunch of medical contraptions all around him. As Maya entered the room and saw her father, a frown crossed her face. Mitali lifted her to Ajay’s bedside.

“Daddy, when will you get better and come home? I want you to read me a story!” Maya said.

“Maya, I need to tell you a secret,” Ajay said. His voice was hoarse, and it was apparent that every word he spoke was taking a toll on him.

“Yes, daddy?” Maya replied.

“God came to see me. He said that he needs me to come and live with him, so that I can help him do good,” Ajay said.

“That’s so nice, daddy!” Maya said. There was an excitement in her voice. “For how long will you be away?”

“Maya, darling, if I go with God I won’t be able to come back,” Ajay said, his voice barely a whisper.

“No, daddy, no. Can’t He take someone else?” Maya said. She was agitated now, her voice sounded upset.

“No, darling. He says that I’m the best. I’m going to have to go tonight,” Ajay replied.

“Okay daddy, if you say so,” Maya replied. Her voice was blank, her face expressionless.

“You are a brave girl, aren’t you Maya?” he asked.

“Yes, daddy, I am,” she replied, a little color returning to her cheeks.

“You’ll take care of Mommy for me, won’t you?” he asked.

“Yes, I will daddy!” she replied.

“And you’ll grow up to make daddy proud?” he asked, his voice nearly giving up.

“Yes, I promise!” she replied.

Mitali stood in one corner as this exchange took place. She was hiding her face, because tears were streaming down it, uncontrolled.

***

“I WANT DADDY!” Maya screamed.

“Honey, haven’t we already talked about this?” Mitali said. “Daddy has gone to live with God. You have to let Mommy read to you!”

“NO! I WANT DADDY!” Maya screamed louder. She grabbed the story book from Mitali’s hands and flung it away. Then, she buried herself inside her blanket.

“Maya, don’t you remember what Daddy told you?” Mitali said, with a look of sheer hopelessness on her face.

“I WANT DADDY! I WANT DADDY! I WANT DADDY!” Maya shouted at the top of her voice, and then she broke down into tears.

***

“Mommy, do you think Daddy is doing well?” Maya asked Mitali, as they sat down at the dinner table.

“Yes, I’m sure he is,” Mitali replied, trying to sound cheerful.

“Do you think God will let him visit us for a little while?” Maya asked, with a hopeful voice.

“No, Maya,” Mitali said. It was apparent that it took her some effort to keep her voice level. “Remember what daddy told you? Once someone goes with God, they can’t come back.”

“Okay,” Maya said. She stayed silent for a few moments and concentrated on her food.

“But mommy,” Maya spoke again, “can’t we go visit him?”

“No, Maya,” Mitali said, “only those people who are personally invited by God can go to his house.”

“Okay. Do you think God would invite me if I gave him my favorite doll?” Maya asked.

***

“Get up, Maya,” Mitali said, as she walked into Maya’s room. “It’s time for school, honey. You need to get ready.”

Mitali knew that Maya was awake, but hiding out under her blanket. She sat on her bedside and gently stirred her. Maya slowly poked her face out from under the blanket. She looked tired, and had a blank expression.

“Don’t you want to go to school, honey? Meet your friends?” Mitali asked, as she gently stroked her head.

“No mommy. I don’t feel like it. Can I sleep some more?” Maya asked.

“No honey, you have to get up now. You’ll fall sick if you sleep so much,” Mitali tried to explain to her. “Do you want pancakes for breakfast? They’re your favorite!”

“No, mommy, I don’t feel hungry. I just want to sleep some more,” Maya said. Her voice was tired and bland.

***

It was night. Mitali was in her room, sitting on her bed. She had just put Maya to sleep. As she sat there, looking at the room she used to share with Ajay, remembering the times she spent with him, the memories came flooding back into her mind. She was staring straight ahead, her eyes out of focus and her face expressionless. She put on a brave face all day, every day, purely for Maya’s sake. Only when she was alone could she let her grief take over her. But it was getting too much, she wasn’t sure if she could bear it for too much longer.

Her body was tired, and yet she couldn’t sleep. She lay back on her bed and started sobbing, praying for sleep to come to her and take her away from the reality of her situation.

Suddenly, she heard the doorknob turning. She sat up abruptly and started wiping away her tears. Maya entered, walked to her bedside, and hugged her tightly. She was holding her story book, which she handed to Mitali. Her pulse was racing and her face was flushed with emotion.

“Mommy, it’s all going to be okay,” Maya said, earnestly. “I’m going to be strong and take care of you and make daddy proud. Will you read me a story please?”

Mitali smiled for the first time since that fateful day. She hugged her daughter close to her, as a silent tear streamed down her cheek.