It was raining. No, it was a total downpour. "How in the world can we walk down home in THIS ..??!!" I asked my other friends. But in the midst of all the noise I went unheard. Not that it would have made any difference. After all we had no other choice.
Taking a bus would delay things even further. The traffic would be heavy and progress would be at a snail's pace. No, that would be an understatement. There would be no progress. And getting late was not a choice even if we had just one hand and a leg to spare. 'Fernando' would have our neck for that. Or worse still she would have made us all stand out in the rain all night.
So we plodded down anyway. Rain soaked through me and I could feel it trickle down my neck, then sending chills it slid down my cleavage to finally settle down in my tummy button. To make matters worse there were only three umbrellas for the four of us....!! And I was the one who had to share, as always. If I fell sick I would have to call in sick. And my boss wasn't one to be pleased with that. Being small had its advantages though. Sharing with a tall not-so- bad- looking- guy was always welcome, wasn't it ? I fit beside him nicely and I shouldn't have to hold the umbrella either. But, that was what I had thought. I didn't get wet, I got soaked.
The traffic was heavy. The drains were overflowing the footpath and and getting past through the jam completely avoiding being SPLASHED was difficult. So we jumped over drains, waded through the dirty water,ran over risen footpaths at a great speed and kept our fingers crossed that we would not be hit by speeding over-takers. Why did people have to erect posts where they were, between the footpath and the street. A second of lost concentration and 'Bang!'. A small curve formed on my face remembering the funny scenes from a long forgotten comic book. Imagining myself as the character didn't seem funny. No, it wasn't funny at all. It was funnier.
I dodged drooping branches and speeding scooters quickly to keep up with my male friend. I suddenly slipped and held out a hand to grab onto him. But he walked past and I missed.
I grabbed a pole. Or so I had thought. It took a second to compose myself.The ground was unstable, the teacher had told. The fear of falling into the deep waters had sunk in, like my body would have, slowly receding into the black brackish waters until it finally settled down beside Vasco-Da Gama's boat. But that would be an honor,isn't it? Yes , I would indeed 'Rest In Peace' in an ASI site. As I regained composure it took a moment for me to register that it wasn't a dirty pole but a hand. A fair and hairy hand at that. With a black thread tied around the wrist. Immediately breathless I let go of the hand.
SPLASH..!!
I landed heavily in the water. Yew..! Now no amount of cleaning up would suffice. Cursing my stars and wondering more about how I could have expected history to repeat itself I threaded down the path. Now, more slowly, less carefully.
Yes, that hand had been there. Wasn't that how fate had planned things for me. And yet, I had fallen. Nose down diving into the deep waters. Of an ancient ocean they called love. It hadn't been just out of the blue. It had been a slow process. So slow that I had never realized the change coming over me. But,over the year to the observant adolescent eye it had been obvious. All they needed was confirmation from the horse's mouth. And the pig headed horse had needed a dying moment to realize that. Then again, to realize it wasn't enough. I had awaited confirmation. The doubtful adolescent in me waited for the temple bells to toll at the sound of his name.
Renting out the fifth floor had its advantages. It was always cool. Particularly on a night like this. My bag lay completely dampened. My shoes sent chills through me. But I barely noticed. I sifted through the contents searching madly. At last I found it. It was so wet I feared touching it would tear it apart. I lay that piece of paper gently over the bed under the rotating fan. Remains of an adolescents's entire hopes and dreams. I lovingly spread it open and for the millionth time read through it.
"Sagittarius: This beloved daughter of Jupiter is bold and demanding. Favorite color is purple and and most women in this group are self assured and sophisticated. The fifteenth year will mark an important change in your life possibly for life. Governed by the ....".
Seven years have passed,and yet my mind had flown back the entire span of time in that split fraction of a second. This little piece of paper had been right. My fifteenth year had changed my life. But they had been wrong. History never repeats itself.
I looked out the window.The sky was heavily cast, no night for a moon. Somehow,I kept looking for that faint source of light. Cold wind blew across my face. Yet, it barely seemed to ease that pain, that cocktail of guilt and loss that follows an eternity doing nothing. A lifetime of silent anguish. But nothing stays still. Like I am now. Everything moves on. The confirmation had come and time had gone by. On second thought, it had never passed. It had stood still for me. But neither time nor he returned. I missed the only opportunity I had. As I will that fair hand with a black thread that never missed.
Taking a bus would delay things even further. The traffic would be heavy and progress would be at a snail's pace. No, that would be an understatement. There would be no progress. And getting late was not a choice even if we had just one hand and a leg to spare. 'Fernando' would have our neck for that. Or worse still she would have made us all stand out in the rain all night.
So we plodded down anyway. Rain soaked through me and I could feel it trickle down my neck, then sending chills it slid down my cleavage to finally settle down in my tummy button. To make matters worse there were only three umbrellas for the four of us....!! And I was the one who had to share, as always. If I fell sick I would have to call in sick. And my boss wasn't one to be pleased with that. Being small had its advantages though. Sharing with a tall not-so- bad- looking- guy was always welcome, wasn't it ? I fit beside him nicely and I shouldn't have to hold the umbrella either. But, that was what I had thought. I didn't get wet, I got soaked.
The traffic was heavy. The drains were overflowing the footpath and and getting past through the jam completely avoiding being SPLASHED was difficult. So we jumped over drains, waded through the dirty water,ran over risen footpaths at a great speed and kept our fingers crossed that we would not be hit by speeding over-takers. Why did people have to erect posts where they were, between the footpath and the street. A second of lost concentration and 'Bang!'. A small curve formed on my face remembering the funny scenes from a long forgotten comic book. Imagining myself as the character didn't seem funny. No, it wasn't funny at all. It was funnier.
I dodged drooping branches and speeding scooters quickly to keep up with my male friend. I suddenly slipped and held out a hand to grab onto him. But he walked past and I missed.
I grabbed a pole. Or so I had thought. It took a second to compose myself.The ground was unstable, the teacher had told. The fear of falling into the deep waters had sunk in, like my body would have, slowly receding into the black brackish waters until it finally settled down beside Vasco-Da Gama's boat. But that would be an honor,isn't it? Yes , I would indeed 'Rest In Peace' in an ASI site. As I regained composure it took a moment for me to register that it wasn't a dirty pole but a hand. A fair and hairy hand at that. With a black thread tied around the wrist. Immediately breathless I let go of the hand.
SPLASH..!!
I landed heavily in the water. Yew..! Now no amount of cleaning up would suffice. Cursing my stars and wondering more about how I could have expected history to repeat itself I threaded down the path. Now, more slowly, less carefully.
Yes, that hand had been there. Wasn't that how fate had planned things for me. And yet, I had fallen. Nose down diving into the deep waters. Of an ancient ocean they called love. It hadn't been just out of the blue. It had been a slow process. So slow that I had never realized the change coming over me. But,over the year to the observant adolescent eye it had been obvious. All they needed was confirmation from the horse's mouth. And the pig headed horse had needed a dying moment to realize that. Then again, to realize it wasn't enough. I had awaited confirmation. The doubtful adolescent in me waited for the temple bells to toll at the sound of his name.
Renting out the fifth floor had its advantages. It was always cool. Particularly on a night like this. My bag lay completely dampened. My shoes sent chills through me. But I barely noticed. I sifted through the contents searching madly. At last I found it. It was so wet I feared touching it would tear it apart. I lay that piece of paper gently over the bed under the rotating fan. Remains of an adolescents's entire hopes and dreams. I lovingly spread it open and for the millionth time read through it.
"Sagittarius: This beloved daughter of Jupiter is bold and demanding. Favorite color is purple and and most women in this group are self assured and sophisticated. The fifteenth year will mark an important change in your life possibly for life. Governed by the ....".
Seven years have passed,and yet my mind had flown back the entire span of time in that split fraction of a second. This little piece of paper had been right. My fifteenth year had changed my life. But they had been wrong. History never repeats itself.
I looked out the window.The sky was heavily cast, no night for a moon. Somehow,I kept looking for that faint source of light. Cold wind blew across my face. Yet, it barely seemed to ease that pain, that cocktail of guilt and loss that follows an eternity doing nothing. A lifetime of silent anguish. But nothing stays still. Like I am now. Everything moves on. The confirmation had come and time had gone by. On second thought, it had never passed. It had stood still for me. But neither time nor he returned. I missed the only opportunity I had. As I will that fair hand with a black thread that never missed.
No comments:
Post a Comment