An old friend

‘They are fighting again’ my mother parked herself on the chair and started increasing the sound of television. ‘A person can’t even watch tv in peace’ she had said to no one in particular. I ran outside to the increasing voice of people all shouting at the same time. There were cuss words which I did not understand at that time. I could see too many people around. Few near them and rest all placing themselves at their convenience. It was like a television show which my Mother was trying to watch; only this one was live.

They lived across my house. A two floor blue colored old building. A divided family of two brothers. I have never seen it but they say there is a straight wall across the whole house separating them. I wondered why they keep fighting when they don’t have to deal with each other anymore. How naïve it was of me. I parked myself on the small boundary wall of my house and watched him. He was there, sitting on the stairs while his family screamed at each other. And then something different happened. His father ran towards his mother and all went silent apart from cuss words and ‘it’s all because of you’. There was no sound of kicks and punches, but only slaps, how wrong they show it in the movies I thought.

His mother cried and was trying unsuccessfully to protect herself from the blows, her nose was already bleeding I think it was broke but I was not sure. While pulling her hair and taking her out on the road, his father tripped on a brick and fell. She grabbed this chance and picked the little girl, Shekhar’s step sister and ran. Passing all the onlookers, in few seconds she vanished. This was the last time I ever saw her. She never came back, if she did, I was not aware of it.

It all went calm. My mother reduced the volume of the tv. All the viewers were gone. The show was over. I came back into the house and looked out from the window, he was still sitting there. And then he glanced at me, straight into my eyes. I can never forget those eyes, shining in the dim street light. He was not crying, in fact he was smiling, or may be its just me creeping out I thought. I shut the window and watched my mother to feel safe. What I did not notice was the drop of sweat crossing behind my ears. I was scared to hell.

From that day I tried not to look at him. I felt he has always been watching me. Whenever I crossed his house or sat near the window or played in the balcony he was always there, sitting on the same place, fanning away flies from his father’s wounds. I don’t know what was wrong with his father. My mother said he was suffering from severe illness. She said it was God’s punishment for killing his first wife, shekhar’s mother. For a long time I thought it was true but later I came to know that she was not well for long and lack of proper treatment killed her and it was not a sudden death, she was bed ridden for almost an year before she died. Everyone blamed his father. Real murderer was poverty or may be his father was the murderer since he did not do anything to save her or get her treated. I had seen him sometime selling baked groundnuts but that was only once or twice.

One day I returned from the school and he was not there. Though from the corner of my eyes I used to see him staring at me but today I turned my head to search for him. He was nowhere to be found. I sat near the window for almost a week but he was never there. His father was still there I could see him lying there on a charpoy wailing, moaning of pain, cursing his fate and what not. His brother from the divided house sometime left a plate of rice and water for him to eat. He ate like an animal. I covered my mouth every time I see him eating. And one day he also vanished like his son. My mother said he was dead but I saw no one. I never thought death would be so silent. None talked about him or his son or his wife or the little girl. Whole family was disappeared as if it never existed.

After few years I completed my twelfth and was sent to Mumbai for further studies. My father said, ‘don’t get lost in the city, for holidays come home to visit’. I complied. Twice a year end of every semester I came home. Best thing about a small town is that nothing really ever changes. Hair grows grey, belly gets fatter and that is that, houses are same as they were ten years ago, roads in same pathetic conditions, electricity always forcing you to sleep sweaty and struggling with rise of temperature, I could see the pile of garbage at the same place accumulating, which I used to see ten years back. Nothing changes in a small town, not even habits. I sat near the window and looked at the empty stairs of Shekhar’s house.  It was no more his house. His uncle has broken the wall and it was one house now. Sometimes a dead family can be a reward for someone.

It was the vacation after fifth semester. I was at home watching tv when there was a knock on the door. Windblown hair, thin athletic physic, shiny brown eyes, extensively shaved cheeks and dusky skin color I knew who he was. He had grown in a fine young lad and I could compare him with many of my friends in collage. He wore a plane blue shirt with black trousers as if a sales representative of a motor company. He smelled of some aftershave which I could not recognize.

‘Shekhar?’ came out of my mouth and a twinkle from his eyes. He smiled, ear to ear, a full smile of a genuine happiness.

‘I thought I would have to introduce myself’ he said.

He handed me a fancy envelop and waited. It was a marriage invitation card. ‘Anu’ I read. His name was nowhere to be found. I looked at his eyes, they were still smiling. ‘My sister is getting married’. His step-sister he meant. The little girl of his step mother. I tried to hide my surprise. I wanted to know the story but there was no courage to ask. He might ask, ‘why bother now?’

‘I am not inviting anyone else but you.’ He waited while I tried to grasp his words. He must have understood my confusion and went on explaining.

‘You gave me what I needed the most. I could never have survived if it was not you. Every time I saw you and the life you were living, your family, your school uniform, your cricket bat, cycle you rode, all made me live the same life, I could see myself playing and going to school. I remember once you shut your window, it broke my heart, not because I could not see you watching tv but because I could not see myself watching tv. You know what? You gave me motive; you gave me motive not to die like my father but to live.’ 

I stood there looking, at him and further beyond, inside deep in his soul he was not that small boy anymore. He was far greater than any of us. My father used to say, one cannot be great by just living a normal life. The more you struggle the more you are moving towards greatness. You worry about all those small hurdles and get depressed. What you do not see is the life beyond you. Life is an exam where the syllabus is unknown and question papers are not set. It’s full of mysteries and miseries. One does not become great by flunking and running. One has to face it and answer the questions.

Here I was seeing a young man who was of my age, answering the questions with confidence. He was in a position to choose the audience of his victory. The card I was holding my hand was nothing but the mark sheet, the result of his success. I was proud that I was the one he chose.

‘I would really appreciate if you can make it to the marriage’

‘I sure will’ I had said, what I wanted to say was that I would not miss it for half of my life. I wanted to know rest of his story. I wanted to know how he answered the toughest questions life has thrown on him. I wanted to see that little girl, who kept crying while her mother carried her away. I wanted to know how the boy, who was indifferent of the events at that time towards his step-sister, was now inviting me for her marriage.  I wanted to know it all.

By the time I came out of my thoughts he was already gone. I saw him walking away. He did not go back to his house. He did not even throw a glance towards it, which was once his own house. He had outgrown it. I had read it somewhere, person who believes in himself, never looks back at what is lost. He looks towards what is coming to him. Life is all in present and what you make out of it in future. Past is for hiding. Courage never hides, it faces from the front.

I looked back at the street; he was nowhere to be found. I realized that I did not even ask him for a glass of water. ‘Who was it?’ my mother asked peeking out of the kitchen.

‘An old friend’ I said.

Baked Fish and Mashed Potatoes !!

'I am thinking of retiring' staring straight into camera, i finally told her what i was thinking for almost eight months now. being my wife she had full right to know what was coming. And yes, i was serious as hell. this software job was no more for me. I had already spent quite a good years of my life hitting those keyboard buttons and writing useless issue and resolution and escalation emails. I was done with it all. I wanted to peaceful life, like what i had growing up in the small town near city of Lucknow in a over populated state of Uttar Pradesh in India. I was so desperate now that even a luxurious life which i was living now in a city if Cincinnati in a developed country of US, seemed to be unfulfilling.
'Missing me too much are not you?' she was there, where i wanted to be. she had a choice and she chose it not to come with me and waiting for me to come back once the project was over. but then expectation was to move to a city where my work would be. she had no idea what i was talking about.
'No, not that. I mean yes, I miss you, but this is not a temporary thing. I really want to retire and come back there. i am going to quit this and all other things which we we don't even need. We need nothing more. already have all we want. haven't we?'
she looked worried now. i could see three vertical lines between both of her brows. may be she was looking for right words to say.
'what will you do then? just stay at home? may be help me in kitchen?' I know what she was doing. she still thinks its just a stream of thoughts passing through my mind and soon it will be over. I went along. There was no way she would get it in one day. it will take time to sink in the idea.
'yes, that's the plan, you see, i am thinking of creating a huge pond and breed fish, fish farming, yes that's the right word. and in rest of the land will grow potatoes. beside the farm will build a house, white, inside out, peaceful, and may write more. yes, that's the plan.'
she started laughing, those lines between the eyebrows were gone. space was stretched enough to pass a truck. eyes went smaller and smaller. then after few minutes of amusement she was staring back in the camera. video calling never lets you feel that two people are far, apart, unless you want to put that string of hair behind her ear which is hanging around her cheek.
'why white, it should be yellow, saying is green farm and yellow house'
'its not green, its a pond, so its blue. so blue and white'
'water is color less for that matter'
'it reflects the sky'
'small ponds don't do it. they are more of green due to algae and water plants'
'I want it white'
'you never write, you just keep on searching for a right environment to write.'
'I will on that farm land, in that house, near the window, on a wooden table,'
'We do not have a land'
'We will'
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Chinese premier has confirmed the news. Largest state of India is also now under their control and they are not going to stop until India declares a defeat and signs on surrender papers. After fall of this state almost all of the west part of India is now controlled by china's people liberation army. World is burning, not in just south Asia but all other continents. North Korea is ground of the largest face off between USA and China. They are already calling it the third world war. all the European union has fallen under the regime on Russia and south america is another fighting ground to control Brazil which is now center point of resources. War is just waiting to reach on the land of america and it doesn't seem to be long that it does.

In another news. The earthquake in northern part of India has claimed thousands of lives. Already facing the war, country is on the verge of collapsing. Economy has sunk. Market has crashed. feminism and diseases are claiming lives at exponential rate. As if this was not enough, God's wrath has fallen upon them. epicenter which was located just near the border of Nepal and India. The area is under control of China, which implies there is not going to be any help from the Indian government. Though quake has damaged the temporary roads which were created by people liberation army for the supply of ration and the armaments but this is not going to help India in any way. Indian army is holding their fort near the town of Meerut just few kilometers away from the capital Delhi and in south army holds the line near the city of Bhopal, which just lies in the center of India.

Indian prime minister is still in talk with US for more supply of arms via sea route. Almost all of the air force have been destroyed and air bases are damaged to the point that they have been shut. only bases are left are either situated along the coast or on the few left warships. Navy is struggling to stop the attacks coming from sea route which is now controlled by Pakistan with huge support from China. Though half of the Pakistan is now under control of India but slowly India was losing the control due to lack of resources to support their army.

'India: Surrender on the cards' news flashed on the only couple of channels which had survived.
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I wanted to plant a rose on top of it but roses are gone from the earth long back. there were no more flowers left, all were extinct. what left was rotten soil, which smells of death. she died a peaceful death that's what they would have said if they had seen her dying. it was silence which killed her. she struggled enough to deserve this peace. i smiled when she died. now i don't have to watch her. i don't have to tell her anymore that everything will be ok. i was tired of telling lies. i disgust myself by telling lies that world was not that bad. they were, world which consists of human as well as God. survivors were more unfortunate people. i was one of them. when Chinese army passed they killed who ever they saw they didn't harm people who didn't show up. they left the cowards who were hiding. no efforts were spent finding anyone, rats always survive in their holes. we sat there in our hole listening them and their fire shots. just passing by the fields, by the houses, looking for something to eat or drink. burning the houses they couldn't find anything to eat. they were not interested in anything else. they themselves were slaves of the war. no different form us. no one left to love back. nations are won by kings, soldiers just die. if not they just pray for it.
She was dead. I woke up in the morning. I already knew she was going to die tonight. One can survive human but never God's punishment. the piece of ceiling which had fallen on her neck was fatal enough. it was a miracle she survived for couple of more hours. I slept sitting along the wall, her head hanging from my thigh, warm blood dripping through my jeans. her mouth was open all along but she couldn't speak and i had no words to say. We both were just waiting for the evident. She was dead silently.

I dragged her to the end of the farm, crossing the potato plants, destroying some of them. Quake had already opened so many cracks in the ground and leaving her there, i searched for a bigger one, not to waste my energy digging up a complete grave. I found one. deep enough to swallow a human body. I just had to bring it a proper shape, in a shape of a grave. there was no way i could think of following the rituals of burning her. woods were required. winter was coming and i needed something to burn. it took me almost an hour to increase the length and to make the surface flat enough to put her in peace. i had already spent one meal of energy on it. I dragged her towards the edge and slowly pushed her into it. Her body rolled to the center like sack of rice. A sack of rice would have been water in desert. This was a desert. The most fertile land of the country was a desert. We had water but it was not drinkable. Fishes in the pond were dying each day. floating on the surface. but in way it was good. easier to fetch them. i don't want to spend a meal of energy to get a meal. today was different. It was special day. my wife had died and as a good husband, i can sacrifice at least this much. it would be my tribute to her. may her soul lies in peace. Its again a lie which i was telling to myself. No soul can rest in peace after watching what we are seeing. the word peace is wiped out of this universe.
I had to spend another hour to cover her. shovel by shovel, sweat by sweat. i was completely drenched in my own sweat. but it was over, soon enough. she was now just a heap of mud. I wanted to plant a rose. But potatoes will help me survive. Man's only purpose is to survive. I had read it. how true it is. its a gospel for a catholic. Koran for a Muslim. Survival. I planted a potato plant on top of her.
it was almost time for lunch. And i knew what i was planning to cook. As if i had any option but still, I like Baked Fish and Mashed Potatoes !!