A few strokes

She tucked a strand of hair behind her right ear. His was too dense she realized. It will need elaborate looking into she made a mental note. Short cropped hair, black and dense, yet falling in layers sort of. It would need intricate sketching, she frowned. Her frantic hands continued tracing long lines against the canvas.

He was not aware of her eyes on him nor that he was being sketched. He looked impatiently at the door once again. His frown lines said that he did not like people who did not value time. Rolling up his sleeve, he straightened his dial. The watch caught her eye too. The way it held itself against his wrist, it seemed to have a life of its own. As if his pulse reverberated within it too.  As if his essence had seeped through his skin and was trapped in its steel band now. She should highlight the watch too, she said to herself. She started re-lining the outlines now.

He straightened himself again realizing that he was getting comfortable in his seat in the restaurant. She could not help but chuckle under her breath, he doesn't want to crumple his work clothes. She was not surprised. The stern look on his face kind of said it already. Even the waiter around his table seemed a bit too conscious. She turned around wildly, a sudden fear gripping her that there might be someone watching her sketch this man in front of her. The tables behind her were empty. It was a Monday afternoon, not the ideal time for the place to have its "happy hours". She sighed in relief. People might find it very weird and someone might even complain. What they don't realize is, there are times when its your mind responding automatically to something that appeals to one with unparalleled vibes. The moment she had taken her seat and she had seen the man, she knew that all she wants now was to sketch him.

He was fiddling with his phone now, his leg shaking in a slow rhythm. Must be humming some song, she deduced. She wished that she could hear the song he was humming, it would have kind of made it easier for her to complete the sketch. Much more easier.

She concentrated on the lights now. He was sitting against a glass pane, the afternoon sun was casting shadows on his right. But her instinct told her to scatter shadows throughout the canvas, as if it was not a brightly lit afternoon, but a cold and misty day.

It was almost done, she brushed her fingers against some areas to blur the pencil lines, to add the effect and the shadows. Too lost in the moment, she did not realize that his eyes were on her now. She looked up and she knew exactly how to finish the sketch. He looked down instantly, getting up in a swift motion, he acknowledged the waiter and left.

She set the canvas down, the one she was sketching in and put up a fresh one and started sketching his eyes. Just his eyes. It was him. His eyes were him. She wrote the following lines after she finished with his eyes.

A drop of rain or the sea

Satiating or engulfing to me?

   

We could have had it all..

We were walking along the beach, I sang out loud, with Aparajita tightly clasping her tiny hand around mine as she looked up in wonder. I looked down still continuing with the song, couldn't help but smile a bit when I saw my daughter, her olive skin glistening under the warm sun, her big black eyes giving off earnestness I could not imagine in a five year old, her lips trying to mouth some of the lyrics, she was somewhat a bit breathless from both walking and trying to sing at the same time.

"Do you want to sit down?", I said with the voice that I reserved only for her.

I could see the rapid change in her expressions from disappointment to relief. Aparajita nodded her head in affirmation, but something in her eyes said that she did want to walk a bit more, yet she sat down pulling me beside her. The waves crashed a few inches away from us, so close, that shift of sand could be felt. She clutched my arm now. I wrapped one arm around her, pulling her closer as we sat there staring at the horizon. I could feel her warmth seeping through me, her baby scent still hasn't worn off I realized yet again, I almost felt calmness course through me.

"Are you angry?", came a muffled voice. 

I smiled a bit, the question was imminent, I knew it. She looked up now, her eyes uncertain now. God! She is so expressive, I thought. I kissed her on both of her cheeks and said "Not at all,cupcake. Why do you think I am?". She was delighted, she loved being called cupcake, it was her favorite dessert. Her body eased a bit against me. "I could not walk for long, I had promised the last time that I would try to walk the entire length of the beach", she said looking down, halting between words, in a voice that could melt my heart. 

I picked her up now placed her on my lap, placing  my chin on her head, I spoke into her hair. "I can never be angry with you honey". She snuggled against me, humming the tune of the song I was singing a while back flawlessly. I felt my eyes moisten with pride, could not help myself but grip her tightly.

"Mamma?", she said cutting off the tune abruptly. I knew that voice of hers. A bit of curiosity with a tinge bit of fear too. She did want to ask something which she thinks she is not supposed to. "Yes?", I said trying my best to make her feel comfortable, because knowing her, it doesn't take her long to curb into that shell of her's.

"When I told my friends about our holiday, they all made fun of me and called me a liar. Who will carry your luggage, and Who will talk to the hotel people, they had joked, You don't even have a Daddy!", her voice cracked with the last word. She turned around now and flung her arms around my neck. I patted her back trying to control tears from straining my own face. I have to be strong, for her.

I have always known that it would be very difficult for Aparajita to grow up without a father. But at times as these I find myself at a loss of words over what to say to her that can console her little heart. I finally spoke up, "Come on Darling, you know they were just trying to pull your leg, Mamma can do all those stuff, right?"

She looked up, her eyes red now, I felt as if someone has just stabbed my heart. I wiped off her cheeks and kissed them again. She managed a smile, "Yes you can", she hugged me again, this time, tighter. I ran my fingers through her hair. How can I explain things to her, that I had no control over all this, that I could not keep that person in our lives when he himself did not want to, when he himself chose to walk away, that I never knew what went wrong. Maybe one day she will understand, maybe one day she will..

Arrested Passions

She stared at the ceiling above, the intermittent spurts of white and bluish light cast a ghostly pallor on the painting of Bob Marley, it seemed as if he was looking down on them, his grave look casting a sudden heaviness in the room, which it lacked.. She smiled at it. She looked down, feeling her head automatically swing to the starting tune of a song by her favorite performer, the instrument dominating the tune was a mouth-organ.. Ah! the bliss of running one's lips along the cold metal, blowing in your breath and the sound that it produces! It has always effortlessly made her giggle since when she was child.. She turned towards the platform.. swirling around in her movable high stool.. she felt a bit dizzy..


People thronged around the platform to see the person who was singing, some even dancing a little to the beats, there was palpable excitement around, the one that is felt just before a song is about to climax, that anticipated moment, when everyone can join in, singing the chorus knowing all the lyrics, rather than just humming.. She could see the fingers of the performer, strumming the guitar as if he was stroking it gently, she could not help but tap her fingers against the glass she was holding..



He started off with the chorus, the crowd which was bubbling with easy tension, finally let the bubble burst.. they all sang along, some exchanging smiles, some discreet glances at someone or the other, as if the lyrics and the music replaced conversations.. they said it all.. She joined in too.. The performer had this glorious smile on him as he looked on at the effect he was creating around, the drummer behind him, almost starting to bang his head vigorously, as for her, she felt all of it.. the song, the sight, the ambiance .. wash through her, giving her goosebumps and tingling her finger tips as it ran along and left her edges.. She sat bewitched!



She wondered the answer to why she sneaked through her schedule every month at least once to visit this place. Was it the interior of the place that encompassed one with essence of "breaking free"? the carefully chosen paintings, the subtle yet loud lightning? was it the lovely music? or was it the crowd, at sync, resonating off security? Her phone buzzed, breaking off her reverie..



"Its late, come home.. Its just one day in what seems like ages that you are not slogging over-time, yet you manage to disappear..", he paused. She knew the deep baritone voice, but she did not recognize the question in them, neither the taunt. "I will be there.. Sorry..", she said apologetically and waited a few seconds for some response, but all she met with was the clicking of the phone on the other side.. standing up she straightened her trousers, she was in her work clothes, a little out of place, she headed towards the door.. She cast one last glance at the crowd near the platform, it has changed in number a bit, but the energy prevailed, she released a deep sigh opening the door..



As she drove back, she kept having flashbacks of filled auditoriums, the lights, the loud music.. the hands up in the air in approval, the earnest voices demanding for more, the stage shivering in the fervent frenzy and the eyes that always edged her on..


 Reaching home, she parked her car, before getting out, she opened her wallet, to take out an ocean blue guitar pick.. it was her favorite, it had "Carpe Diem" engraved on it in black italicized font, there was a time when she earnestly believed in it.. Oh.. she was young then..





P.S. The setting of the post is vaguely inspired by a video that I came across a few months back.

Like Heaven and Hell..

 Like the mellow sun on a winter morning

Like the fierce fire crackling in a hearth

Like the soft breath of a sleeping baby

Like the storm raging within me!

Like the faint whisper of a flowing stream

Like the deafening roar of thunder
Like the lazy pace of a growing bud
Like the haste of my heart!

Like the height of a towering mountain
Like the depth of the abyssal sea
Like the brightness in your grin
Like the darkness in me!

Like the faith in a place of worship
Like the question in a curious mind
Like the calm in your reassuring gaze
Like the chaos building inside me!

Like the hope in a flickering lamp
Like the despair in a mother's loss
Like the promise of the dying sun
Like your presence around me!

A place called 'Here'

The sapphire martini stood in contrast with the pearl wall behind it. She picked it up, her fingers lightly feeling the cool glass underneath. Leaning out of the balcony, she let the moist wind beat against her face. November Rain. A sudden chill crept up on her, making her  cringe a little, but she did not mind it. Looking out to the vast expanse of deliquescent city lights in front of her, she could not help but feel miniature and more lost. Filled with sudden urgency to shift her concentration she lifted up her wrist to note the time, it was past midnight. Late.. Again.. There were deep lines on her forehead now, he had promised to be here by now.

A pair of warm hands sneaked up her waist, and almost made her shriek. She soon recognized their owner though, smiling brightly, she snuggled against the hard support behind her. She felt his stubble graze against her shoulder. Here is where she belonged. She found home at-last! 

She was jolted back to reality by the blinding light that split open the dark sky in front of her spreading a purplish hue all over, it was bewitching. She realized how cold she was. Closing the balcony door she now sat on her chair, placing the glass on it carelessly. She was worried, worried about herself now. Too lost, isn't she? She felt like being amazed a bit too, she chucked to herself, remembering one of her favorite lines,
"Of course it is happening inside your head, but why on earth should that mean that it's not real?"
Looking around she spotted a hard-bound book with the name of its publishers gleaming across the dim room. She walked towards it, opened it, and ran her fingers through the words written on the first page in decent cursive handwriting,

"Hoping to meet you soon.."

Leafing through the pages, she arrived at the one which she loved the most, the words printed echoed her mind,

“Sometimes, people can go missing right before our very eyes. Sometimes, people discover you, even though they've been looking at you all the entire time. Sometimes, we lose sight of ourselves when we’re not paying enough attention.

We all get lost once in a while, sometimes by choice, sometimes due to forces beyond our control. When we learn what it is our soul needs to learn, the path presents itself. Sometimes we see the way out but wonder further and deeper despite ourselves; the fear, the anger or the sadness preventing us returning. Sometimes we prefer to be lost and wandering, sometimes it’s easier. Sometimes we find our own way out. But regardless, always, we are found.”

The last line filled her with nourishing hope..

Raw Innocence

She opened her bag to take out her umbrella, thanking her lucky stars that she was carrying one. It was raining very heavily, quite unnatural to the place where she lives where monsoons generally tend to exist only in the pages of geography books or scripts of news-reporters. She shivered as the cold air laden with rain drops gushed past her. She already felt the urge to cup the sides of a hot coffee mug. I will make the evening up to it, she promised to the weather, smiling at nowhere.

She plugged in her earphones, perfect opportunity to drown herself in songs from her "Rain" playlist, and also that she was walking alone, it served a greater purpose. Finally, she set out from under the shed where had taken refuge for a while as the light drizzle had changed into enormous drops falling with so much intensity that it almost hurt to stand under them. She was unknowingly singing the song that was playing in her playlist quite loudly, the rain drowned her voice quite effectively. She released a deep sigh after the completion of her favorite lines.

She looked up to find a girl smiling at her. She was drenched from head to toe, her hair all messed up, falling half on her face,  she was shivering like anything. But it was the smile that caught her attention, it was almost the same smile that her seven year old sister had given her after successfully spelling out B-A-S-K-E-T-B-A-L-L, one that was printed on the mini ball that she gifted her this summer and this made her suddenly miss her sister very much, remembering the times when she used to enjoy getting drenched on their roof with her sister in her lap, ignoring the perpetual shouts from their mother downstairs.

She was jolted back to reality when a streak of lightning split open the sky in front of her turning the grey hue around into an amazing purple followed by a deafening thunder. She realized that she had stopped walking. She noticed the girl was still looking at her still, almost amused. She took off her earphones, thinking maybe she was one of those people whom she knows but can't point out their name or how she knows them at the moment. Then she realized that this was the same girl who some of her friends had conveniently named "weirdo".. "freak" based on very little interaction they had with her. She asked her whether she would like to share her umbrella, she happily came under it.

As they started walking towards their hostel, she asked the girl general questions, some she answered with overflowing excitement, some with pursed lips and some with animated gestures. She was more and more reminded of her sister now. From the little conversation they could have while walking towards the hostel, she came to know her name, the place she belonged to, that she was a fresher, and didn't have many friends yet.. As they reached the gate, the girl ran out of the umbrella, looking back with a grateful grin.

As she entered her room and put her bag down, she could not shake off the worry that engulfed her now, worry for a mere stranger. She felt angry towards the parents of the girls who had sent her to the hostel, could they not see that she was too naive to live in one, did they not know how other students might make fun of her innocence (like her own friends had done), take advantage of her gullibility or did they want her to learn things alone? But would she be able to cope up? She stood in front of her window, it was still raining heavily, she thought of her baby sister, imagined her getting drenched in a heavy rain somewhere when she had forgotten to carry her umbrella, would there be anyone to provide her with one, she felt a lump in her throat.

She tried to change her course of thoughts, she had promised herself that she would spend the evening well, she could not ruin it worrying about things that were not in her control. She sat on her window sill with the unfinished novel that was reaching its climax now.. but all she could remember was that innocent smile.. so pure.. so innocent!

Are you afraid of the dark?

It was all dark and swampy. She could hear her ragged breathing echo against the walls of the tunnel, the sound of her footsteps reverberated throughout.  Her body was numb! She could feel it tense even more, as if preparing to put in more.. to run faster, but she knew.. it did not really matter. It was closing in, the time has come...

She woke up in cold sweat on her bed. Clutching her bed sheet, she tried to stop from shivering, she realized that she had goose-bumps all over. She sat up after a while. Her room was shrouded in darkness, the only thing that she could make out was the pattern of the grills of her window that the moonlight had carved in the wall opposite, it was strangely distinct and resolute considering the moon outside which was dull and almost hidden behind clouds. A slight breeze made the pattern waver.Some clouds might have passed across the moon.She noticed that the lights were out, probably a power-cut or something, the expressway that overlooked her window was pitch black except few appearances of one or two vehicles hurrying away. She checked her cell phone for the time.. It was 3:30..

It was all very very silent, she could hear every breath she took, even almost the thud of her heartbeats. Though sound, sight every kind of sense was overridden by her sense of fear. She had never felt so scared.. She did not know what to do, whether to run with all her might or whether not to budge even an inch. She gulped noisily, adding to her discomfort, because she realized that she was thirsty and that she needs to go out to get water. The situation was getting really uncomfortable.

She decided to stay put, to divert herself with something else. Running her hands through her bed-sheet tentatively she decided to get hold of her phone so that she could listen to some music. She found her phone at last, plugging in the the headphones she went to her playlist and played a DJ mix, at-least that would be loud enough to deafen her from the sounds outside and since the song was really remixed in a night-club or something, bouts of hooting at regular interim made her less aware of the fact that she was all alone.

As she settled against her pillow, in a half-lying position, something very very strange happened, the pigeon which perpetually lives outside her window was looking at her, with a unfaltering and unnerving gaze and weirdly it was not seeing through her, it was looking at her, as if it had been suddenly endowed with human intelligence. It took every ounce of her courage to get up and go towards the window and try to shoo it away but it did not move a bit, rather one can say settled down more comfortably on the sill. She was almost on the verge of collapsing.

Suddenly the pitch-black expressway outside was again filled with lights from the lamp post and just a second later her room lit up brightly and the fan started rotating noisily. She heaved a sigh of relief, the room which minutes back was closing in on her, now looked very much familiar and welcoming. But she still did not have courage to go out and bring water. To hell with water she though, she might as well die of thirst. Lowering herself on her bed, she tried not to remember the nightmare that triggered her fear.. but her ragged breathing, footsteps on a wet-surface, the feeling of suffocation just at the altar of collapsing, and the fact that she felt really really exhausted, like one feels after running for a good length, did worsen matters. It had all felt so real. She could not shake it away. Closing her eyes tightly now, she clutched her sides and with all her might tried to go back to sleep again..