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Growing Up
Then:
All I have to do is fall forward on my hands and walk like the doggy does. He's watching me now as I stumble my way to the balcony. Everyday, I do this. Not much else to do anyway. Mum and dad go around on just their legs. They often stop and speak to me in squeaky voice, quite different from when they speak to others.
The big blue thing is full of white fluffy stuff. Sometimes, before the big blue gets dark, there are things flying around in it. Mum once said "Look! Look at the birdies!" and I know they are called birdies. It must be fun to fly all day, now wouldn't it?
***
Now:
All I have to do is grab that stick, and walk slowly. The dog still watches me as I stumble to the balcony. This is all I do now. Everyday. On the streets below, people hurry along on just their legs. Some do stop and wave at me, a bit different from when they greet each other. If only they could see me as I do.
The sky is full of white fluffy clouds. Sometimes, before the sky gets dark, there are things flying around in it. Not just birds but all kinds of aircrafts. It wasn't too long ago when I was flying too. A commercial pilot for over thirty-five years, I've flown among those white fluffy things in all kinds of man-made birdies. It was so much fun, now wasn't it?
The wonder of flight lives on in me. The baby has grown up in size but still is... a baby.
When one door closes...
As soon as my eyes open, the dream fades away, which I'm glad for. It was more of a nightmare anyway, and it plays on repeat, night after night.
The gladness of waking up from a nightmare quickly turns to vigilance because I can hear someone. The fact that I live alone, not by choice but by the choices I've made, makes it creepy to hear another human voice in the house. In broad daylight, it would've been a delight but at this bewitching hour it's, well, bewitching!
As my eyes adjust to the gloom, I begin to notice a rectangular outline. It's a door and it's almost at the base of my bed. Well, better than the head of a horse, I surmise.
"If you open the door," the voice permeates the darkness, "it will take you to any time you wish..."
Then, it fades away into eerie silence again and I pinch myself until I wince just to confirm that I'm awake. The door is still there and appears to be crimson in colour. Then, in a classic dolly-zoom style, it looms towards me.
***
That was the first of July, three years ago; the day after my performance review at work. I'd broken the good news, as I had seen it, to my wife. She was quiet for a while even as she smiled broadly.
"Honey, you don't need the added stress," She stroked my hair, "I believe we can manage without you accepting this promotion!"
I knew she was right and always had my back. However, the thrill of moving up the corporate ladder and the power that comes with it was too much to be calmed by simple ruffling of my hair.
"Remi--" I chose my words carefully, "Just imagine! We can move to a bigger house, a better neighbourhood and... and you can buy the stuff you've always wanted. I can buy you the stuff you've always wanted. More money never hurt anyone, baby."
"I know, I know..." Remi's smile turned to a frown, "But the kids look forward to the weekends--to spend time with you--with us! Can't we be content with the happiness we already have?"
As it turned out, I wasn't content. I wanted more, a lot more. I'd seen the look on my kids' faces when we couldn't afford the things they coveted and also remembered how I had grown up with longings myself.
So, I took that promotion, and the next. It led me so far up the ladder that everyone I loved could not keep up. My incessant travel slowly separated us until there was no going back for me. And when I did, there was nobody waiting for me at home.
All I have now is the empty house and my bagful of empty ambitions.
***
I hold the doorknob of the crimson door and turn it. Thirtieth of June, Twenty Twenty One, I muttered, and push it open.
How deep is your love?
Love conquers all. Love will find a way. Love will set you free. That's what we grow up with. Read in stories, and watch in movies. The one that stayed with me is the freedom-giving aspect.
What is this freedom that love brings, and how does it set us free? Doesn't it bind one heart with another instead? Sounds ironic.
So, I decide to research 'freedom'. Freedom of expression. Freedom of opinion. Freedom of thought. Then, I look for synonyms and find that freedom also manifests as independence: In deep and dense.
Anyone who has been in love knows that!
Sunny Side Up
Sunny is an average bloke; lanky and athletic.
He dresses to attend a party, or a funeral, at the shortest notice.
His enthusiasm exudes through every idea he shares.
His personality is magnetic to the girls but often it's him who loses the polarity and the attraction detaches.
He cheers for the underdog and is a "Robin Hood" for a lot of people around the neighbourhood.
His friends range from the petty hustler who sells movie tickets in "black" outside cinema halls to the shoe-shine boy at the dusty corner of the street.
Sunny is true to his name.
Who are you waiting for?
Who are you waiting for?
O my heart, and why?
Silence is forever,
Loneliness is nigh.
Nobody cares for you...
Or for me
Then why do we cry?
Why do you dream of nights past?
Why do I make the memories last?
Be it a bed of roses...
Or of thorns
Our fate is to yield and sleep.
Let go of ties that bind us
And leave the liaisons behind us.
Your happiness, my heart,
Has always been
A cause for me to weep.
Who can you call your own truly?
To Who can I relate dearly?
There's no one to share this agony.
So, who are you waiting for?
O my heart, and why?
Silence is forever
Loneliness is nigh.
Partial Recall
I remember ... no, actually I don't. At least not all of it. It's strange how you recall the start of something agonizing and then, just the aftermath.
The two-wheeler machine, the Enfield Bullet, looked mean, and growled meaner. At seventeen, that sight, and sound, rattles every molecule in a young man's anatomy, except perhaps, the brain which, it completely mushes.
"Want a ride?" Ravi asked the small group of friends shooting the breeze at a local cafe.
"Sure!" I jumped up before anyone else could. After all, there was seat for one pillion only.
No sooner than I sat astride the bike than it shot forward like, well, a bullet. The law of inertia is a bitch. My torso snapped back and the head hit the tarmac hard. "Fade to Black" would've looked cool on a screenplay. For me, it was like losing my mind, literally.
For unknown hours, I was in a world of unknowns. I could not recognize any of my friends. I couldn't recognize the neighbourhood, the cafe. All unknown.
I woke up with the head being pounded by a hammer. My best friend, Sunny, looked worried. "Hey buddy, how are you feeling?"
"I... where am I?"
The frown on his face said "Fuck!"
"You are, right now, in my house." He said verbally, "That must've hurt!"
"Yes, but I don't recall anything, and frankly, I don't really recognize you!"
"My name is Sunny," He tried, "We were lazing at that cafe down the road, Uncle's Cafe, when Ravi offered you a ride on his new Bullet."
"Oh. Y'know? I don't think I can go home because I don't know the way anymore-"
"Don't worry about that," Sunny was reassuring, "I'll take you home."
"Thanks."
For the next hour or so, Sunny proceeded to bring me up-to-speed on everything from my home, family, and the last girl I had crush on.
With some effort, I walked to the window of his apartment, three or four floors high, and peered out. "What time is it? More important, what day is it?"
"It's the same day. Just that you were knocked out for several hours."
"No, no, I mean, what's the date today?" I insisted.
"It's the 12th of September... why?"
"Man," I lamented, "I have a Science test tomorrow and I'm sure I've forgotten everything I had crammed!"
Sunny cracked up with relief. "Bugger, at least you remember that!"
Enquire Within Upon Everything ...
On my last day in Geneva I’m visiting the Mecca of Science, CERN. I book the ride via Uber app, from the hotel, and make a quick video call to my family. On the move, I doom scroll the news feed, catch up on email, and then back to doom scrolling.
After admission to the visitor’s centre, I plunge into the exhibits of the Large Hadron Collider, the Antimatter, and the Higgs boson for a couple of enlightened hours.
Then, a small black computer catches my eye. A keyboard leans against it and a mouse hangs at the front. A note, partially obscured at the edges as if someone had tried ripping it off but didn’t succeed, reads: ‘This machine is a server. DO NOT POWER DOWN!!’ Next to it, is a project proposal with a note scrawled in its top margin: ‘Vague but exciting …’
On a reflex, I reach out and touch the glass enclosure expecting an alarm to go off. What happens, instead, like a strong eddy, the room swirls, causing me to grab the exhibit’s pedestal.
Unknown many moments later, the churning stops. There are voices in the room, which itself has turned antiquated. I steady myself and look around to notice two men in conversation, unaware of my presence even as I approach and greet them. Spread on a circular table between them, among coffee cups, is the same document from the exhibit while the computer is on a desk behind one of them who has his back towards me. He is speaking with a British accent. The computer, a perfect cube, is brand new and I recognize it as NeXT, one of Jobs’ creations after he was fired from Apple.
“All I need, Mike” the Brit says, “are four software engineers and a programmer-”
“And fifty thousand dollars!” interrupts the other.
“Well, yes … but this will change everything. You wouldn’t have to ask where the documents for a project are, or chase who wrote this piece of code-”
“So, you do see why I scribbled ‘vague but exciting’ on your proposal, don’t you?”
“I’m glad you found it exciting” the British one jokes, “as for the vague part, let’s imagine every piece of information around the world, linked to each other like a mesh”
He locks his fingers in demonstration. His opponent crosses his arms instead:
“Understood! I hope that shiny new computer will suffice” Mike points to NeXT.
“That will do, thanks!”
“Excellent. Send a requisition for the team you need for my approval. By the way, I hear you’re calling it ‘Enquire Within Upon Everything’? Isn’t that a book?”
The Englishman laughs. “Yes, the title evokes magic. For me, as a child, the book was a portal to a world of information-”
“Not catchy enough!” declares Mike.
“How about WorldWideWeb then?”
“Cheerio mate!”
Gobsmacked, I notice the calendar on the wall. It’s November 12th, 1990 and there’s no mistaking the creation of the internet by its father, Sir Timothy John Berners-Lee.
Steep encounter
The guests were having fun when one of them asked for tea. It didn't end up as expected.
Given that we all want to unwind after five days of nine-to-fiving (or longer), nobody wants to know about mundane stuff on the weekend. So didn't my guest.
"What tea would you like?" I asked opening a tea chest full of every flavour from peppermint to lemongrass.
"Chamomile, please" The guest replied politely.
As they ripped open the sachet and pulled out the tea bag, little did they know it came with strings attached.
It was on the third dip of the bag in the hot water that I said:
"Do you know the science behind the humble tea bag?"
"Uh-huh"
"There's osmosis, of course" It was obvious to me so I of-coursed my statement, "But also diffusion."
The guest smiled and plunged the tea bag in the hot water for the thirteenth time. It made a small splash.
"Hmm." They said.
"See, there are more water molecules outside the bag than inside," I gestured, using one hand as tea bag and the other indicating the water around it, "So the water permeates through the membrane... er the tea bag until an equilibrium is reached. That is osmosis!"
"Wow." Dip number nineteen.
"Then, molecules from the tea leaves start moving out and reach every part of the hot water, basically from an area of high concentration to a lower one. That is diffusion. Who would've thought there's so much science going on, right?"
"True. Who would've thought!" My guest held a dripping tea bag over their cup and I offered a saucer to place it on.
"Thanks," They continued, "For an enlightening cup of tea."
I smiled but didn't miss the look on their face that clearly warned:
'Be glad I didn't fling the hot water at you...'
Al is in Pun-derland
This silly piece is an attempt to stir Lewis Carroll from his eternal sleep. I hope it fits for
Dr Seuss too.
----
Debilitated and breathless, Al stopped abruptly on realising that he wasn’t being followed. He had been running for a while now.
A high wooden door with huge knobs stood nearby. Besides the door itself, there were no walls. A mayhem of voices could be heard on the inside.
A sign read: “State Cabinet. Enter if you May.”
He knocked and the doors creaked open. On the inside, he saw a garden of colourful ... things. As he moved closer, they turned out to be sticky notes.
“Power to the people ...”, read one “ ... lower electricity prices now!”
“For the people, of the people, by the people!” said another, “Faster Internet!”
A woman dressed in flowers was sitting on the far fence with an eager crowd around her.
The guard startled him: “You May sit down. After all it’s the month of Maying!”
“Don’t you mean the month of May?”
“Maybe”, smiled the guard, “It’s a free country as long as you can pay your way!” He then laughed conceitedly and began humming: “Pay your way in May, they say! May you pay your way every day!”
Al sat down on one of the many benches laid out. The old lady next to him gave him a quick glance before returning her attention to the proceedings. A voice boomed from somewhere:
“Remember citizens, it’s the Question Hour, and we will take only odd questions!”
Al exclaimed: “Why?”
The old woman gave him an amused look: “Cause we’re an oddience and May is an odd month with odd number of letters in it!”
“Oh!”
“Can we have May the fourth declared a public holiday?”, someone asked.
The floral woman muttered loudly: “Must be an alien”, and then grinned, “I may or may not consider it!”
The questioner sat down in dismay.
“We have had enough of Democracy! When is the final version being released?”
“It may or may not!”, came the reply.
So it went on, with the floral woman replying: “May or May not” to every question.
Al turned to the old lady and said “Why is she on the fence?”
“Well”, replied the lady, “She is the May-er after all!”
“Don’t you mean Mayor? And what’s with the flowers she wears?”
“Oh, you’re so dumb! Those are Mayflowers, my dear!”
Al nodded, unknowingly. “Is she a good Mayor?”
“Who knows! It’s only the first of the month. But she’s a Mayonese so she’ll be fine!”
“Mayonnaise?”
“Same thing, really! By the way, the army guy who came to March was terrible!”
Al decided he didn’t understand elections. Besides, he had to find his way home before sunset.
He stood up to leave when the old lady cautioned him: “Be careful of the exit poles ... oh, and the ticks!”
“Ticks?”
“Yes, the Polly Ticks! They get under your skin, suck your blood, and you don’t realise until it’s too late. Hard to get them out then!”
Al left with the guard’s song following him: “This May, no dismay. No mayhem, this May, ahem!”
Min and Max
Minnie yawned and Max sneered at her.
"You're so lazy, Min!" He said, "Once I'm allowed to, I'll go running across the yard, past the front gate, and probably straight to the park. What fun!"
"Cool it, Maxie." Minnie said in a slow drawl, "You know we're not allowed to go yet"
"True," Max sighed, "When will this end? I don't enjoy lounging around like you!"
"You should try it sometimes," Minnie suggested, "It’s pure bliss."
***
Covid restrictions ended and eventually the postman appeared too. At the window, Minnie meowed:
“Your arch nemesis is here. Now, go mad, Max!”