Memories galore

Having met all the deadlines the night before, I knew I could have the morning to myself. After a cuppa and a brief chat with a friend over phone, I pulled a book out of the wooden shelf to read.

As I flipped through its pages, I came across this one picture tucked between pages 31 and 32. The picture, taken some two decades back, brought back a melange of memories --- some happy ones and some not-so-happy ones.

It was one such winter morning 20 years ago, when I, along with the other kids from the neighbourhood, waited on the deck of the launch to bid our fathers goodbye before walking down to the cabin below. It was a customary habit, you could say. However, it wasn't just another day to school. 

Our weekly tests had begun and each of us had notes and books in hand. As the helmsman steered the launch, we descended to the cabin below and took our seats. Although I could hear the navigator, Keshav da, shouting his lungs out, giving directions to the helmsman, he could do little to waver my concentration from the last chapter of the history book. It was only when my friend, Ritu, sitting next to me, started panicking, I took note of the situation. 

As I craned my neck out to see where we have reached, a cold breeze brushed past my face and a chill ran down my spine. We were in the midst of nowhere. A think blanket of fog had enveloped us and everything around looked fuzzy. The helmsman looked puzzled just as we did and with no rescue in sight, we huddled up in one corner of the cabin.

Mobile phones were unheard of in those days and we knew not how to get help. After much coaxing by some of my friends and Keshav da, the helmsman set sail again. The risks were not too many, just that a bigger vessel could have hit us at any point of time. After wandering around aimlessly for about half-an-hour, the launch came to a still with a sudden thud.

The moments of silence that followed were unnerving. It was only when Keshav da broke into peals of laughter, we rushed to the deck to find out the launch has traced its steps back to the starting point. We heaved a sigh of relief but the feeling did not last long as we were terribly late for school. Surprisingly, dad and uncles were still waiting at the jetty. The little ones among us were teary-eyed and the older ones looked anxious. Just to cheer them up, one of the uncles, a photographer by passion, brought out his analog camera and asked us to smile for him, as if we had achieved a feat.

Thankfully, our school made an exception and we were allowed 15 minutes grace to complete our paper.

That was just one day framed of the 14 winters of my life that I spent crossing the river, sometimes calm and at other times rough, to reach school.

To think of it, so much has changed since then. The uncle who made us smile that morning is no longer there, friends have gone places and I don't remember the last time I visited the jetty. But the memories have stayed with each one of us, I believe. That is what counts!

Losing a loved one

When I sat next to my four-year-old nephew to explain death, I knew not where to begin from. It took me some time to gather myself before I could get on with it. Nevertheless, it was important. None of us would get to see the grand old man again, including him, and for one last time I wanted him to touch dadu's feet or bid him goodbye, if I can put it that way.

But for obvious reasons, he looked at me with disbelief at first! Where is God's abode and how far is it from our place, he asked me. I wish I knew all that.

Distinct memories of the day will remain etched in the memory forever. "He has been suffering for long, good for him he won't have to put up with pain and discomfort any longer," Maa said even as tears rolled down her cheeks. My grandma spoke little. For years, I have seen the couple weathering odds even as they engaged in regular altercations. My uncles tried their best to hold themselves together but I could still see them wiping their glasses on several occasions.

Dadu was loved by one and all and at 93, he was probably the eldest one in the neighbourhood. Needless to say, people poured in as soon as the news spread.

I didn't know how to react at first. I was restless, trying to keep myself busy with little chores like fetching money from the bank for his last rites and buying medicines for my aggrieved-and-ailing family members. In between, however, I took time to sit by Dadu stroking his benumbed hands. I tried hard to control my emotions but the thought that he would no longer wake up from the slumber to ask about my next newspaper article was too hard to come to terms with. I too broke down.

As he set on his final journey, I held him tight one last time. Much was left unsaid. And even though I shrug off stories about life after death and spirits, for once I wished they were real. I wished he could be there by me in whatever form he chooses to.

Hopes refuse to die

It still affects me, mom. I lied. It still does. Because I still can't get used to it. Hopes, maa, they refuse to die. And even after so much, I still hope for a better tomorrow. I do not know, how much more I will have to put up with, but am trying, maa... trying to do away with the expectations that I have from life, trust me. Every single day, I make efforts to convince myself that it's all over, but hopes refuse to die

Why, maa? why does it have to be this way always? why can't things change for better? Know what, I am writing this after long. Not because, I don't have time, not because I am short of words, just that I am too tired of venting out my feelings here. I was waiting to post a happy incident or two but the wait has been too long. So, yeah! here I am with my endless rants!

Have I really done something to deserve this? Why can't I move on, like others do! You know, maa...even if happiness comes and knocks my door now, I might not recognize it or even if I do, I wonder if it would still hold any significance. Don't remember the last time I have had a goodnight's sleep.
Do u still pray, maa? I don't.

I have been walking through this dark tunnel braving the chills and the heat for too long now. I am tired, maa. I still don't see any light at the end of it. Forgive me, if i give up midway. I do not wish to disappoint you. but I know not, how far can I go.