Lessons learnt

            "Mamma I will be back soon. You remember my gift ok?" her daughter yelled from the door as she ran to catch her school bus.
             Today her daughter was going to get the results of her internal test in school but Rachna was worried about something else. She was anxious about something her daughter had done. Rachna had prided herself for managing her job and her home perfectly. She believed she had ingrained good values in her daughter until today.
              Today she had found a storybook, tucked under the pillow of her daughter, while cleaning the room. It did not belong to her daughter Sana. Rachna opened the book. The first page of the book showed doodles done on the name previously written on it. Below that was a hurriedly scribbled "Sana". Her daughter had stolen the book from someone and kept it for herself. This was the cause of concern for Rachna. Where had her daughter picked up such a trait?
               Why Sana would steal was beyond Rachna's reason. That too a storybook? Knowing how avid a reader Rachna was, she would have gladly bought Sana the book if she had asked for it. Was her daughter stealing for thrill? The thought sent shivers down Rachna's spine.
                After thinking long and hard and setting aside the anxiety, Rachna decided to take actions to stop this habit of her daughter right away. Sana had to realise the wrong she had done. Rachna knew Sana was a sensitive girl. A wrong word or a little carelessness in handling the situation and her daughter would be lost to the wrong ways forever. One never knows how the tender and young minds work.
                Later that afternoon, Sana returned from school with a wide grin. She had got a 10/10 in her test.
"Mamma you promised me that you will give me a gift, where is it?" she asked.
"I did not get time to go to the market. I will go in the evening and get you something you will love." Rachna replied.
"Mammma, this is not done! You told me you will give me when I come back." she whined
"I will give you I said. Finish your lunch and get some sleep. Before you wake up I will get it ok."

Sana stomped her way to the bedroom. After sometime she came to the table for lunch. Rachna never pestered her to eat. She had taught Sana to respect food when it was served and not waste it. Once when Sana had thrown a fit because she didn't like a balanced diet for lunch, Rachna had taken her to the nearby street children and asked her to give her lunch to them. She didn't give in to Sana's demand for junk food for lunch and made her go hungry. But looking at the street children who feasted on her lunch, Sana realised how lucky she was to have fixed meals unlike the kids who didn't know when their next meal would come.

Today was time for another lesson. Her daughter had erred, but that didn't mean she couldn't improve.

"Wow my gift!!" Sana jumped in joy looking at the gift wrapped in blue paper.
"See I told you I will get it." Rachna said
"Ya ya mamma, let me open it."
She opened the gift and suddenly her face was pale.
It was a brand new story book but the same one which she had stolen from her friend.
"What happened Sana ? Didn't you like the gift?" she asked her daughter who wasn't seeing her in the eye.
"Its good." she muttered.
"You would have loved it if you hadn't already stolen the same book and read it." Rachna said

Rachna didn't utter a word after that. She didn't blame her daughter for behaving that way nor did she point out her flaws. She left it to her daughter to figure out the wrong.
Her daughter sat stunned. Her eyes were welled with tears.
Rachna took Sana into her arms and said,
"Sana I won't ask you why you did it. I will suggest you what you should have done. You should have asked me for the book. I would have given you. Even if I couldn't give you something, its not good to take away from someone else. You could have borrowed the book and returned after reading. Because you of your mistake you lost your gift. Because of you taking someone else's book, they lost their book. Now I leave it to you to decide how you are going to return the book."

Rachna had made a concious effort to not mentiont the words "steal" and "thief".
                                                     

The next day she saw her daughter making a card. Sana had made a "Sorry" card and attached it to the first page of the brand new book which Rachna had bought last evening. However Sana had not mentioned her name. Rachna didn't mind it. Mentioning the name would only lead to guilt and undue torment from other kids. Her daughter had learnt to give and learnt to make up for her mistakes.
After parting with her brand new book, Rachna was sure that Sana wouldn't make such a mistake again. If she had wanted, she could have returned the same book but she had made up for her wrong by giving the brand new one.

That afternoon when Sana returned from school she quietly went to Rachna and said, "Mamma I m sorry. I will never steal again. I gave her the new book with a sorry note. She was happy to find her book under the desk."

"I know dear. Freshen up and come soon. I have made your favorite dish for lunch and also made a chocolate cake."
"Wow chocolate cake!! For what?"
"One good turn deserves another." Rachna smiled.
               

Yellow pencil

                                        
"Will you tell me what it is called?"
"Yellow pencil!" I replied between sobs.
"Arre that is the color, tell me the name of that pencil" my Mom was getting irritated which lead to a proportional increase in my crying.
"Ok I will look for it."

I was in first standard. I had a friend of mine who had bought these yellow pencils to school. I used to somehow love her stationery. She was the first one who had brought "penpencil" to school. Those pencils which had many leads in it. Loss of one lead and the entire pencil would be useless. Nevertheless I had wanted that too and Papa had brought me a blue penpencil. Now this yellow pencil had caught my fancy.

Mom searched in stores and came back with a yellow pencil which had black stripes on it.
'This is not the pencil I want! I know you will not bring it now!" I threw a fit.
"There's nothing called as yellow pencil! The shopkeepers keep asking the name. This is also yellow so keep it." she yelled at me.

For days I kept pestering her for the yellow pencil.
In the lunch break my friend opened her pencilbox for some reason. She used to place a paper in  her pencil box so that it doesn't get dirty with the pencil marks and for some reasons she also put something fragnant in her box so that everytime she opened her pencil box it would smell of sandalwood.
I saw four bright yellow, sharpened pencils. It had no name on it.
Ego kept me from asking her where she bought it from. It made me more stubborn to have those pencils now.

I dared not ask for those pencils after Mom's outburst. After some days I even forgot about it.
One day while watching TV, I saw an advertisement on cable. It was the same yellow pencil! Its name was Lion!
Now finally I had a name for the pencil and called out Mom to tell her I want Lion's pencil. She might have been frustrated but it was rare that I did not get what I wanted so much.

My Mom worked far away from where we lived. There are many places near her workplace which are places for wholesale stationery and many book stores as well. She made it a point to go there on a Saturday (when it would have been packed with crowd) and look for the Lion's pencil. The shopkeepers told her that the pencil might not have been produced on a big scale yet and the ad might have been just promotional. There was no Lion's pencil in market yet.

She had promised me to bring those pencils if she found them but she had no luck. She knew I would be inconsolable if she returned empty handed.

She came home with four pencil sets. Two each of Apsara Gold and Apsara Extra Dark. Those were the times when Nataraj and Apsara (the normal black one) were used in our school. These two were newly launched so she had thought this would make me happy.. How right she was!

                              
I was satisfied with the new pencils and forgot all about the yellow pencils. More than writing with them, I played with them and sharpened all of them :P

How much joy a pencil can hold only innocence can know!

Today while travelling back from college in a crowded local train, I saw a girl seated and writing with a yellow pencil. Memories came back flooding. Years later, when I think of it, I realise the tact with which Mom dealt with me. I realised how even I might have been a cause for many young children of my class crying for the new "extra dark" or "apsara gold" pencils.

Later ,when my stop was about to come, I stood near the entrance and the girl with yellow pencil too came there. She was still holding her pencil in hand.
Ego kept me from asking her the name of the pencil :P
Some things never change I guess!

The Tamarind Tales

        

                                                   

        He looked at the red colored salted tamarinds laid out in the cart of the hawker.   He smiled in remembrance of the tangy childhood afternoons with her.  It had been years since he had last bought tamarinds for her.

                                             

        He thought of the afternoon they first saw the imli wala. Within a few days of his arrival, the imli wala was always crowded with school children. They were waiting for their bus when the imliwala offered them some tamarind fruit. She craved for the mouth watering tamarinds but they had no spare money to indulge. To make sure that they don’t eat any unhygienic outside food, their parents gave them money only enough for the fare for the bus.

       He bought her the tamarind for 1 rupee out of his 2 rupee bus fare.  They were just 7years old then. She was happy to have what she wanted but worried about going back home. He knew the way home and together they walked all the way home. Chattering, eating the tamarind and spitting the seed.  This became a weekly ritual.  Every week he would buy her tamarinds and then they would walk all the way home. 

They were friends and neighbors.  They called their weekly walk as the “Imli walk”. The imli walks made them best friends.

       He remembered how she worried about lying when they walked home late. He had suggested that they drop tamarind seeds all the way in the soil so that there would  be tamarind tree everywhere . and they won’t have to buy tamarinds They had actually dropped seeds on the side walks and poured water with their water bottles.  They checked on the sidewalks every week and felt dejected to see no plant there.

      When they were 10 she had once come crying to him and said, “I think I m going to have a baby.” 

      He had been surprised and curious and asked, “How do you know?”

     She had said, “Preeti says her mother is going to have a baby and so she keeps wanting tamarind. I too keep wanting tamarind so I also will have  a baby. How will I manage the baby and its shit? How will I go to school taking the baby?”

     “Don’t worry we will take care of it and we will have new toy to play plus we will get to play with the toys for the baby too!”

       They were so innocent and not known what they had been talking.

      They had grown up and grown apart but still been there for each other. 

       He packed the tamarind and took it home.  When he opened the pack for her, he saw the same childish grin on her face. It was the tangy childhood coming back. She placed one of them on the tip of her tongue and slowly sucked in its sour  taste.  She ate one after the other not realizing when to stop. She ate till her tongue  burned with the excess she had eaten.  She looked at him and they  both laughed.

   “Your baby  has had enough of tamarind for now. I bet it’s a girl!” she told him.

    He took out the sweet tamarind sweet which he always bought for her along with the tamarind. He knew             she liked to eat it after she was done with the sour ones.

   “You remembered?” she asked in surprise

                                       

   “I bet it’s the girl who wants to eat tamarind in the name of my baby.” HE winked at her

    “Then   your baby craves for Belgium chocolate icecream” she chuckled and pulled him close.

                                       

                                   

The perfect couple

              He stood at the corner of the hall with a drink in his hand. She was engaged in conversation with the women on the other end of the hall. Every now and then she looked at him and gave a knowing smile. His eyes didn't leave her all evening.
              She blushed at the greedy gaze he had fixed on her. A secret conversation was transpiring between them. He nodded in approval of her thoughts.
              Women in their social circle wondered what was the magic that bound them together. She was the object of envy. At twenty six she looked no more than eighteen. Slim and endowed with a figure that women craved and men lusted for. Gracious features and a childlike smile that adorned her fair complexion. No wonder she had the best man in town.
               He was the most sought after man and the kind women fantacise about  having an affair with. A muscular physique and facial features of a Greek God! His charm tantalized people. His deep eyes could intimidate anyone. A popular athlete in his college days and now a successful businessman. He was the kind who had world at his feet.
              Together they complimented in every way possible. They were the PERFECT COUPLE.
              She came to him and breathed in his scent. He held her close and whispered, "Hey gorgeous"
              "Care for a dance?" she asked him invitingly and without waiting for his response pulled him to the dance floor.
              She grooved to the music and he moved to her rhythm. Close, intoxicated, perfect.
              He recognized the chuckle she gave. Tonight was going to be the night..
              They were in their own world regardless of the people looking at them and talking of the way they behaved like teenage lovers.. unable to keep their hands off each other.. after 5 years of marriage!
                                            

               They could wait no longer. The desperation was getting too obvious. They left soon leaving the crowd applauding their dance.
                She ripped apart every part of his clothing as she revealed her cruel grin. Tonight was the night she would prey on him. He savored the pain she inflicted on him as she dug her nails into him.
                He was hungry for the orgasmic hurt she inflicted on him.
                She handcuffed him and brought out her whip as he gasped in anticipation of his defeat.
             
                They were the Perfect couple.. He- a pain seeker and she-a sadist..
                                          

A strange relation

                "Chris is he alright?" I find myself panicking.
                "Hey, I think you should meet him. He's been asking about you." Chris had a look of amazement and curiosity.
                 I entered the room to see him propped up against a pillow. He was visibly in a better shape but boredom was written on his face.
                "Hey.. how are you feeling?" I tried to open up a conversation.
                 If he felt anything, he did not express it. "Ok.." was all he answered.
                 It was getting awkward. He did not seem interested to talk and neither did he look into my eyes while talking. I was getting desperate to ask him my questions but probably this wasn't the right time. I retreated back and was almost near the door when he called out,
                "Don't you want to talk to me?"
                "Erm.. I thought you didn't want to."
                 He did not say anything. I was not sure if I was supposed to leave or ask him.
                "Do you get dreams?" I knew I would sound idiotic if it wasn't what I thought.
                 He looked at me in rapt attention as if ready to absorb every sound coming from my voicebox.
                 I knew I had hit on the nerve.
                 "What do you see?" I probed.
                 "You." he answered. Although I was expecting him to say it, I was not ready to acknowledge it.
                 "And?" I asked further.
                 "Why don't you take a seat?" he asked me. I sat near his bed on visitor's chair.

                "Why don't we start with you?" he asked.
                I dreaded the moment. IT was difficult to explain a dream when you have grown up over the years perfecting watching it. The early vague dreams which later started getting nightmarish.. The  nights I woke up crying and couldn't explain why I felt the pain... The fear of going to sleep for the next few nights.. How could I sum it up for the one who has been the cause of it all.. Or was he?
                 
                "The dream has been the same.. The frames keep changing.. I feel I m in a house.. I m on the terrace. Its an old villa but I feel at home. I sometimes feel a hand on my waist. I m filled with love. I walk down the stairs holding those hands which make me feel secure.. I walk a short distance outside the house and feel the grip on that hand loosening and then I have nothing...I m all alone.. It makes me void. Incomplete. I cannot think, I cannot speak. I feel trapped.. I suffocate."
                 The dream in itself wasn't so disturbing as the way I felt in those moments. I lived it! I look up at his face and I m touched to see the concern in his eyes. For years I have seen people brush it aside as a nightmare.. It felt strangely good to know that someone can experience the same pain..
               
                 "Have you seen anything like that?" I ask him.
                 "No.. My dreams aren't so clear.. What I do see is hurried images in front of me.. Sometimes I see you talking to me.. Sometimes I see us being close and I can feel that you are the only woman I belong to.. Sometimes I feel sheer pain at the memory.. I see you alone and I long to touch to you.. To comfort you but it breaks me to not be able to do that. I feel helpless.. My throat dries up as I try to call out to you.. I don't remember your name.. "  I feel an intense emotion building inside him.. He is much more disturbed than me.. Maybe because his dream lack clarity. He struggles to get hold of those visions but they move faster than he can understand them..
                  "Have you always seen me?" I know I m pushing him too much.
                  "No.. no.. I never saw you.. It was a blurred face and can you imagine how frustrating it was to me? The moment I saw you I found peace. Suddenly that face became you." he gave a weak smile..
                  " I never saw you.. I only felt you.. I could feel your arms, you hands but face... I couldn't see.. It was something vague.. I never understood why.. While the feelings and sensations were so clear, I couldn't hold you close or see you all I wanted to.. I had no idea until you asked about dreams yesterday.."
                    I sobbed. I didn't know what my grief was, just like in my dreams. Nevertheless I had a deep hurt that I needed to cry on. He did not make me feel weird. He held me close and comforted me. I sense that this gives him some kind of satisfaction. It lessens his grief, which he too is clueless about. I held on to him for sometime.
                    "Why did you come to my college and who are you?" I suddenly ask him. He laughs.
                    "Time for some formal introduction. I m Nabhanyu.. I was actually waiting for one of my contacts but seems like I was in the wrong place. He was giving me directions when destiny lead me to you.. I m from New York but shifted here for official purpose. What about you?"
                    " I m Naeema. I m from this very city.. " We kept talking for a long time and it now felt like we have known each other forever.. Maybe we did..
                    "I don't know if its love, but I cannot take my eyes off her." 
                    I blushed. Oh my God!! I hear his thoughts...
                    Nabhanyu- the eternal and Naeema was the blessed one..
                   

A strange relation

                     Read Part 2 and Part 1
                     I decided I would go to see him after my lab work was done. I took a bus to go to college. The hospital fell on my way. When the bus halted right in front of the hospital I couldn't hold myself. I got down and walked into the hospital, not knowing who I was there to see.
                     The smell of disinfectant stung me the moment I set my foot in. Being a government hospital the out patient department was swarming. A very busy receptionist gave me a bored look on asking her several times.
                     "Madam aap kisko dekhne aayi hai? Naam toh pata hoga na?" (Madam who have you come to visit. You must be knowing the name right?" )
                     "Nahi, kal shaam ko admit hue hai.. Please zara dekhiye na." ( No, he got admitted last evening. Please check.")
                      I was uncomfortable there. I had never been to a hospital alone and pleading someone this way was beyond my nature. Still with the help of a ward boy I managed to locate the ward he was in. I heard the receptionist mutter "Kaha kaha se aajate hai". It was embarrassing.
                      He was in a ward on the second floor. I heaved a sigh of relief when I saw  Chris. He was the general secretary of our college and a very warm fellow. The hospital suddenly didn't look that gloomy.
                      "Hey Naeema, what are you doing here?" He looked surprised to see me.
                      "Chris, that guy who had an accident in our college.. how is he?"
                      "He is out of danger but he will require to be admitted for few more days. Once he becomes concious we can contact his family. His coming to conciousness is critical in the coming hours."
                       Chris was sweet and caring. He had stayed behind in hospital for a stranger all night.
                      "Chris go home and get some rest. I will stay for sometime." I told him
                      "Are you sure? I mean don't you have any class right now?" he enquired
                      "It's alright. I can manage."
                      "No Naeema, I will go once he gets concious. Any emergency might come up. I better not leave you alone here." he reasoned and  I couldn't oppose it.
                       We went into his room. His leg was plastered and his head bandaged. Tubes were inserted into his hands. That was not how I had seen him..
                       I couldn't see him anymore. I rushed out of the room and waited outside. I saw a doctor and a nurse rushing into the ward. Soon Chris came out.
                      "Naeema, come inside." he pulled me in.
                      The doctor was busy checking his pulse and eyes.
                      "Chris, now I can say he is completely safe. I have given him an injection. Get these medicines from the pharmacy downstairs and I will come on a round in an hour."
                      Those deep eyes kept looking at me. His eyes wouldn't leave me. I moved around in the ward and then with Chris outside and I could still feel his eyes on me. The nurse was still in the room and she gave me a look that could easily be read as "What's in her that he is watching so intently?" 
                       Chris left to fetch the medicines and the nurse soon took to her heels. I was now alone with Him.. I was at loss of words. I couldn't move as his gaze was fixed on me.
                       He murmured something. I tried to inch closer to him. Maybe he needed something and was too weak. I leaned closer to him to listen.
                       " I knew you would come."
                       I was numb. My tongue felt heavy as I asked, "You.. you know me?"
                      " I didn't.. But when I saw you crying yesterday, I did."
                      "What does that mean?"
                      "Do you believe in dreams?" he asked in a serious tone.
                      "You get them too?" I asked in astonishment. My life was changing.. He tried to talk some more but he was too dizzy. Perhaps the injection was making him so.
                       I called out to the nurse in the adjacent ward. She confirmed it was indeed the injection that had put him to sleep. She further added that patients do talk delusional things after coming out from such a condition. She stared longer at me but this time it was a comforting one. She asked me to not get troubled over what the patient might talk and left the room.
                      Before I could analyse what had just occurred in the room, Chris came back. He advised me to go home. There was a lot of inquiry to be done in this matter and I shouldn't get involved. I thanked him again for all the caring and left for home.
                    His thoughts left me disturbed. Nothing was going to be the same any more.
                    Later that night Misha texted me, "r u crazy? Why did u miss 2day's lab?" 
                    I knew I couldn't explain it to her and left it without replying back.
                    Still late into the night I got another SMS..
                    I didn't want to see it but still I reluctantly checked it. It was from Chris.
                    Naeema get yourself asap tomorrow morning to the hospital. 
                    I jumped out of the bed. Was he fine? Did he say anything? I thought of calling Chris but decided otherwise.
                    Sleep didn't come to me that night. I wanted morning to come soon.. The next day would answer my questions..

(to be continued)
                

A strange relation

                 I found myself running to the lawn. No sound, that I heard, made any sense to me. I knew I had to somehow ensure his safety. That's all that I cared. I could see some guys helping him on to a stretcher. Luckily the stretcher was available as a preparation for  the intercollegiate sports meet which was to happen the next day. They had made him lie on the stretcher and were busy informing the authorities.
                 I pushed through the crowd and tried to reach closer to him. He had an athletic built and was fair skinned. His complexion had turned pink as he was writhing in pain. His leg was hurt and his head was injured too. I winced. I could not bear to see him hurt. I don't know why and what conspired in those few minutes when he looked at me and smiled. That was the impression I couldn't get out of my mind. His pain and smile at one and the same time!
                 The ambulance reached within some time and they took him to the hospital. The crowd had started to disperse when someone placed a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Misha there. She looked tensed and as her hand approached me I realised that she was wiping my tears. I had been crying!
                 "Don't worry, he'll be fine. Let's go home' she said to me. I followed her.
                 "Do you know what happened?" she asked me. I shook my head in disapproval.
                 "You know that tree just at the corner of the lawn? The one that was shaking madly today? It sort of clicked and fell. That guy was standing close to it. He moved back suddenly and dashed with a car. Can you imagine it? Hit by a car while trying to escape an unpruned tree. Poor fellow. He was destined to be hurt today."
                 "Where have they taken him?" I asked her.
                 " The hospital close to our college.. Umm yea Sarvodaya hospital."
                 "You know what's strange? That guy didn't have a single id. They have no idea whom to contact. No one knows who he is. Added to it, the tree isn't really part of our college. Its on BMC road so its supposed to be their fault. It could go on forever you know. The lady driving the car panicked! I guess she will have to be admitted too, that's how much shaken she was. Anyway it will be dealt by them. We got free early atleast." she added.
                 The mystery surrounding the guy was deepening now. There was something about him that seemed to pull me towards him. His perfectly shaped face, his deep black eyes with a thick brow arching it, his lips that broke into that mysterious smile, everything seemed to haunt me. I realised that I was still visualising him. How could he affect me so much? How could he get so harmed in the few seconds my sight left him?
                  I reached home. For a brief time I settled into the normal routine. Soon I had forgotten my earlier confusions and fell  off to sleep.
                  It was then that it happened. The dream that had disturbed me for years. I sat up sweating. Misha's words vibrated in my mind, "He was destined to be hurt today."
                  Then it all started making a weird sense. I wanted to see him again but now I HAD to see him.