As the title is very plain the subject too is utterly delicious and sweet.when I speak of love I confine it to that between man and woman. what could be the definition of love? what is true love? what are the qualities of love? lastly is there love? Well, I define love as the subconscious feeling between a man and a woman kindled by the urge to satiate animal instincts proliferating into the inner conscience and later on surfacing as intimate relationship which when accomplished ignites mututal disregard and utter abandonment .love has certain qualities, which keeps it above all other emotional displays; like love is blind, love is madness, love is irrational, love is emotional , love is spontaneous,love is indifferent,love is arrogant, love is oh,,the list is endless, but all said and done, it is just the same old feeling ...I find it closely linked to the animal instincts hidden in every man , more than that, you can label it as the urge to understand forbidden , and to challenge the restrictions, that is why even eve was tempted to taste the forbidden fruit ,so, that is it.
Let me continue, so far as youngsters are considered they are just overwhelmed and out of sheer curiosity jumps into this rigmarole,without knowing fully well that it is just a mirage, an illusory display by Almghty, so called "maya" which exhilarates and boosts up your gullible mind for a while, and matured people call it infatuation,.well, it does not end there, the bee who tastes the first drop of honey from the virgin flower, goes berserk for a while and it does forget its existence for the time being and like that the young mind temporarily feels that this is the end of the whole universe, and there is no more place to traverse,,,well, he feels elated, rather in a rhapsody,in an enigmatic whirlpool, which loops on and on his conscience, and he floats to the world of nothingness,Let me return from the sojourn, to reality,,dear folks, love is nothing but a transitional feeling every human has to undergo at one point or the other, but it is not all that enchanting as it appears initially, but I would suggest every one of us should experience it at least once, because nobody on earth has ever found a better way of emotional exhilaration, a better choice of serene blissful envigorating, piece of human enjoyment available .Now coming to marriage,what is a marriage, a marriage is the union of a man and a woman agreeing themselves to be faithful to each other and to procreate the next generation, and to contribute something to the society ,upholding moral values as taught,by their religion. It is financial,social and emotional bond, and by default found to be effective in the present social set up.It is not foolproof, as the growing rate of divorce will show. why does the institution of marriage fail, ? have any of us thought loudly on the subject though much has been interpreted and formulated but none found to be the correct answer,Is it the incompatibility of minds, or the social status of the respective partners, or the emotional factor, or the mismatch of the wavelength of the thought process, or any other intrinsic factor, which has never been so far explored?I dont know, but there is some factor which is inherent in every human being the big ego,...the feeling of Aham or self, which displaces all adjustments and throws away the requirement for mutual interdependance which is very essential in any marriage.If the couple on a retrospect becomes aware of the above , I feel that most of the issues could be ironed out. easly.well, it is for the counsellors to break their head on the above subject ,and I am just an ordinary man.I shall come back again with more on the subject, whenever time permits thanks,
ajay2354
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
1)A cry in the wilderness!!!!
There was a lot of noise outside.I got up from my bed to see what is going on outside? I was just having a little rest after a tedious session of what you may call as investigative journalism .The evening sun was peeping through the windows drawing enigmatic and gory murals on the adjacent walls, as if it was the judgement day!!!.“Maro saale ko, Kuthe bahar nikal …” Yes there was a mob outside, pelting stones and brandishing local armoury. I felt a chill on my spine, what the hell is going on?“thud” a stone hit right on my temples, and its sudden impact made me reel down, in agonising pain. A moment later I gathered myself, ran towards the door, Somebody was trying to break open the front door!!My profession as a journalist has earned me enough enemies, The report on the recent massacre in the name of religion might have kindled the spark, nay the lightning ,!!! I pondered,Well, I had no further time to think. I heard people shouting, wailing, howling, weeping, abusing from the yonder flats, as unfortunately I was on the third floor,. I could not see what was happening near me, as the only way to outside world was my front door,which was blocked, and straining to flee from the hinges, at any moment due to the heavy pressure put on it by the unruly mob craving for my blood, ? I realised that at any moment the door may give way and I may be left with no mercy at the belligerent gathering.Man,, you have to live, at least for your kids, your family, clinging on the only hope that is you, and they cant just be left in the lurch , and you are not destined to be killed by this wicked devils who does not have any feeling for their fellow beings and purely guided by political motives!! My inner conscience cajoled me , I was almost at the end of my wits when I knew that jumping through the balcony may be foolish, as, even if I reach the ground in one piece there was a bigger mob down there to swallow me alive with burning torches,in their hands.Now I have to somehow prevent the mob breaking open my door, only hope was to try to push the heavy book rack against it, which I don’t know whether I can manage alone!I had only Hobson’s choice, I lunged toward the rack and mustered all the strength and courage left with me, and pushed, OHHH, it is inching toward the door, hopefully,Minutes appeared as long long hours to me , but by Herculean efforts, I could reach it against the door, by the time the hinges were squealing heavily with the tremendous pressure withstood so long . Hell, my temples were bleeding like hell, blinding me , and I was about to loose conscience, but, some how, I managed to keep my eyes open, and wiping away the blood which was gushing out of the wounds. I felt a bit safe at the thought that the noise outside was gradually receding and there was abrupt silence for a few seconds, I tried to peep through the balconly, which was grilled and covered, though, and to ignite my anxiety, I found the crowd was gone and there were occupants of the neighbouring flats fleeing to safety.I could hear them shouting , ohh God, this trauma, will it end, or just engulf me in its wrath of disastrous flames forever?God, hath sent all men equal , with no barriers of religion, caste or creed, , and it is high time that the different man made communities who created these impregnable fortresses,bury the hatchet and nurse the wounds hatched up in utter hatred and disregard to the fellow beings, but in the name of religion!!! ,lest the budding generation, unwary of such heinous crimes, shall never ever forgive, and their every single drop of tear shall shatter to smithereens including the last one who lies buried under the graveyards of insanity.
My happiness was shortlived when I found that through the broken window panes smoke balls were slung inside, and in a fraction of a second I could sense the acrid smell of burning wood and rubber, oh!! They have put my home on fire!!!. Kerosene and dirty clothes on fire created a nauseating sensation, and I was chocking ., virtually, when my inner self guided me toward the toilet on the other side, of the hall, where I snapped open the shower and tried to cooldown my sweltering body, , and kept all the taps open and water gushing out of them provided a temporary solace to my ailing self, though I knew that the water also will defitely get hot with the tubes getting burnt, and to add fuel to the fire, my nostalgic collection of books went aflame, I shut the bathroom door, in utter agony, only to realise that my time must be counted from now, as there is no escape , and as the water too started getting hotter, and hotter, I felt to muster all the left life in me and started praying, that let God forgive me of all the sins, as I felt being dragged down in a whirlpool never ending, to depths unfathomed, where reality is lost to infinity, and the glow of a thousand suns washing away the tiniest ember, into oblivions.Hours later: may be days ???I woke up and found myself ensconsed to the bed, shivering and quite a lot of inquisitive eyes prying on me ?. Was I alive, or in the netherworld? I couldn’t decipher, but to my feeble mind, as a soothing breeze, I could recognise my children, my wife, and all my loving friends, oh,, God is great, they told me that I luckly escaped as the police had rushed to the site by the time I fell unconscious in the toilet, and the flowing water inside kept me live!! My skin was almost baked, but, I lived, I live even today, cursing myself, of this barbaric insane and uncivilized society which I live in, hands tied, blinded , brainwashed, and left to continue like a vegetable lamenting on my fate.!!!
ajay menon
2)The Eternal Slumber short story
It was a hot summer night.I was twisting and turning in my bed yearning for a wink of sleep.It must be well past 2 AM.Despite the High court’s Orders, the neighbouring Hotel cum Bar was on full swing, thunderous music,catering to the elite night owls!Well, I used to envy those street urchins sleeping on the footpath,totally ignorant, unperturbed of the screeching,howling traffic which never dies till the wee hours of the morning.Suddenly I started perspiring unusually, palpitating,.. Oh! that Pain in the chest, !! Help!! I tried to yell, .. If only somebody gave me some water,,!Am I becoming deaf?, I wanted to scream my head out!! but, well, a moment later,, I felt as if Iam floating!! I could really feel the weightlessness,Yes, Iam in the air, drifting with the currents, afloat, .Now there is absolutely no pain, and my thirst has subsided, and feeling energetic, free, yes, really, all those mundane bonds are broken,I am as light as a feather,!!!But something looked very odd! I see another “me” in the bed,calm, composed, still sleeping ? I tried to recollect what happened to me.OH! The feeling sent tremors inside me.Nay, in my ethereal ‘body’.Yes I think, I think that Iam DEAD.True, very true, I wanted to call her , my wife; she is fast asleep.I yelled , nothing, nothing happens. My daughter too ignorant ,unaware that her daddy is dead, innocently sleeps, with her thumb in her mouth.She is dreaming of her pet dog, which her daddy never bought her. It is great to know what they are dreaming, or thinking, NOW I am able to understand the inner self , to visualize their feelings,everything!!! Yes, Iam dead…I tried to move around , it is quite easier now, that I could squeeze myself through the tiny key hole in the door, or the airvents of the A/C.“Welcome to our world, Menon” I could hear that whisper, There were quite a few like me, floating, and some sitting on the top most barks of the grey banyan tree yonder in the children’s park. My good ol’ friends!!Yes, my uncle was there, I remember, he died when he was working as a Judge. “come Babu” ( he calls me babu) he beckoned me. I was indeed very happy that I never dreamt that I could ever meet him again!“Mama (uncle) , I read your judgement in the “Suryanelli” Case, it was so wonderful that how you appreciated the circumstantial evidence and made a landmark judgement and awarded capital punishment ,which was confirmed by the Supreme court,” I beamed at him.With his enigmatic smile he mused “ the life of a Judge is full of tension,babu,, You don’t really live ;as a Judge, it is a sort of self imprisonment, in the coveted chair, lest you don’t become a Real Judge.“True Mama, but how is life over here?“It is enchanting, exhilarating, the real Rama Rajya as dreamt by Mahatma” We love each other, and seldom fight for anything,because we want nothing ““Really?, then I think it is good to be dead..!!”I returned back to my home, and it was almost 7.30 AM. My daughter was still sleeping sucking her thumb!.She is getting up ,, My wife,well, I think she never noticed that Iam DEAD. OH, God! If only I could speak?I tried to poke her with my finger, but my fingers are going right through her body!! Fool!! You are dead, as dead as a duck!! My inner conscience reprimanded me.Yes, now,she will know, .She has come with the bed coffee. She is calling me, now shaking me,, .Suddenly she withdrew her hands off me, and dropped the coffee cup . Yes, that is it, she is now yelling, Finally, she knew , she realized that Iam DEAD. My mother in law come running, and once she also came to know the truth, there were lots of tears, sniffs and sobs, the routine stuff , when you die!! I also felt like crying, but nay, I am unable to,When my daughter too got up, and tried to wake me up, then I really felt that I shouldn’t have died.Later, when they cremated my earthly self, I never felt anything.That evening I went drifting all the way to my friends house, .Purohit had melancholic look, “He smoked quite a lot, I warned him ,but in vain” he muttered. “I too never felt that he will leave us so soon” Ravi was also in tears, .Yes, they were my true friends, I wished if I could speak to them.I am by their side, so close, so far, .Yes , what life could never teach me death hath done. “ Ye mortal , life is too short, and when God hath blessed you with that ,make the best out of it, lest you never get a second chance”Rrrrrrrriiiiiiinnnnnnnggg …. The blasted alarm.Oh, was it only a dream?
Ajay menon
3)TRANSITION
Hearing a loud 'thud' I woke up from my slumber. Damn it, time is already 8 o'clock. Its going to be late to Office today! The morning 'wake up' coffee never reached today. What happened to Annie? I don't know whether she gave the cup of milk to Sonu at least? Oh! it is there, the cup is lying on the floor with left over milk spilt all over! It is her bad habit, Sonu leaves some milk always at the bottom of her cup after she had had it and then she throws it down. Tease her, taunt her, she will never change! Now a days Annie does not seem to be so affectionate as she used to be, seven years ago. Everything has got a tinge of discomfort, a feeling of apathy or rather routine monotony. The warmth of love has flown away through the windows and what remains is the bare skeleton of mutual adjustment. Is seven years such a long time to drift away so much, from an 'eternal bond' of an ideal marriage? I don't know? The Autowala will honk sharp at 8.30 for Sonu. I have to bathe her and dress her up for school as a dutiful husband. (Obviously, those chores falls in my portfolio). Then starts the never ending tussle between Annie and Sonu; making Sonu eat is but a herculean task. She has developed strong likes and dislikes for almost everything, including food. After that starts the next episode , that is combing her hair. At the age of six, we were never so conscious about our looks! Were we? But the little girl does! She even carries a comb to her school hidden in her school bag! I came out of the toilet with the wet newspaper, as ever, and Annie frowns over it, she too likes to have a fresh neat newspaper with her in the toilet. Of course, that is her right! Well, I then dress up and drop Sonu at the gate. We don't find time here for anything personal. Bonded within the wooden framework of the clock, we live cursing ourselves, hoping for a better tommorrow; she has to reach Office by 10.30 and I have to by 10 AM. At times I feel are we better than serfs? Nay. In a way all of us are bonded to mundane materialistic drudgery, on our way up the ladders, forgetting happily that we are but mortal. "What should bother you, you are lucky and blessed being a "double engine", mutters my friend, but lo! does he ever know the woes that goes alongwith it? It is true that in this mega city one has to work hard to eke out a living and single income especially in the salaried class is too meagre to have a decent living! The 'Bhai' engaged for cleaning and washing, started demanding too many paid leave, and I thought it better to do away with her rather than piling up routine chores, when she takes too many 'unauthorised' leave. So, that work also shifted to our already stooping shoulders, the cleaning work Annie took over, and the washing by me. A fair deal, isn't it? What a wonderful marital life? That is it, after all those, where do you find time for a little romance, nay, togetherness and Sonu has become more demanding now a days for her slot of time? Yes, there are more merits for the double engine couple, I do not wish to elaborate,lest it may bore you.(but for the financial benefit!!). Yes, seven years before, when I met Annie, I do remember; At the working women's hostel, I had been there with Ajith, whose girl friend was there, Vimla. This girl, with a soft, tender, restricted disposition, presented herself with Vimla keeping her copy of Linda Goodman's 'Sun Signs' tucked between her bosom and forearm. Wonderful, wasn't there something, some uniqueness, peculiarity, which made her stand apart from the crowd, or was it a bachelor's fantacy? Well, can't make out now, as I am unable to believe that I was ever a bachelor!Next we met at National Library between the book racks, while fiddling for some good book. She smiled at me and I think we were thinking in the same wave length and could even predict each others next move. All of it ended in the 'knot' well before even an anniversary. Today after seven years, crippled under the massive clutches of realities, finding that the path of life is never full of roses, (not even a single?), trying to wriggle out of it, rowing against the strong currents, dreaming of a better tommorrow, and then untimely succumb to those pressures to realise, what have I gained? What did I lose?
At home, at times we do not speak to each other for weeks together, (the very same couple who thought, that they can't even live a second without each other, but, seven years ago) grumbling, finding fault with each other. Are we drifting apart? Gradually? I don't know. The transition from yesterday to the present was really fast, really fast. The good old memories are lurking in the inner conscience vividly and funnily enough we never bothered to synchronise and bring back the melodies of love. There has to be a change It is inevitable; yes. I do crave for it. The routine monotony in the bedroom emphasises the need for it. Added to the toll, high B.P and persistent stress gifted by the 'metro' life. At thirty five, I feel all spent and old, but why? I feel, a change should bring back the colours of life!"You don't love me anymore, you have cheated me". She used to howl at me, often, which do irritate me the more! Cheating! Did I? The initial address "Honey", "Love" have been displaced by a meagre "you" and she still feels that I should have the same concern for her. How selfish?After all what is 'love'? Love at this age is nothing but "sex". If it is denied, delayed, the animal in you starts murmuring, then grumbling, and at last, it shouts and shuns you, the other animal! It is just like the craving for a drop of water by the hot desert sands. Well, it was one of these days, I found 'Admag'. A weekly meant only for Ad's. You can put an ad for anything under the sun, and you find them there too! Why not place an ad in Admag. "A young energetic man seeks friendship/company from like minded women." Yes. I did, the next week pop came the ad came and I then kept my fingers crossed for response. The first call I received was from a lady aged 50, and I bluntly but politely turned down her 'offer'. She must have thought me as a gigolo, or what? After two three days thereafter, my hopes were cherished by a lovely voice on the mobile. She must be young and cute! (Did I hear this voice before!!). I dreamt. Indeed she was hardly 28. We introduced ourselves (Bet, both did not disclose their true identities!) and the telephone romance bloomed. I used to speak with her almost everyday, as if I was avenging my wife Annie.But Annie, unaware of these (hopefully) never cared. The frownings and making faces at each other, continued as a matter of routine at home.Finally, the rendezvous was fixed. Both of us were longing to meet each other. Near Marine Lines, a secluded spot (Not so! it is Bombay!!) was identified for the grand meeting! She was to wear read salwar and me, light blue trousers and white full sleeve shirt. That was our identity to recognize each other. It was a Friday and I left the Office slightly early. My heart was pounding, (already I suffer from tachycardia!). It was to be sweet; the first meeting. I saw her, watching creeping little crabs on the wet sand, her face down and she was looking gorgeous! "Smitha is it not you?""Yes". She turned her face to me. Astounded, benumbed I stood there, it was she, my Annie, with her red salwar!" Ajay Menon.
There was a lot of noise outside.I got up from my bed to see what is going on outside? I was just having a little rest after a tedious session of what you may call as investigative journalism .The evening sun was peeping through the windows drawing enigmatic and gory murals on the adjacent walls, as if it was the judgement day!!!.“Maro saale ko, Kuthe bahar nikal …” Yes there was a mob outside, pelting stones and brandishing local armoury. I felt a chill on my spine, what the hell is going on?“thud” a stone hit right on my temples, and its sudden impact made me reel down, in agonising pain. A moment later I gathered myself, ran towards the door, Somebody was trying to break open the front door!!My profession as a journalist has earned me enough enemies, The report on the recent massacre in the name of religion might have kindled the spark, nay the lightning ,!!! I pondered,Well, I had no further time to think. I heard people shouting, wailing, howling, weeping, abusing from the yonder flats, as unfortunately I was on the third floor,. I could not see what was happening near me, as the only way to outside world was my front door,which was blocked, and straining to flee from the hinges, at any moment due to the heavy pressure put on it by the unruly mob craving for my blood, ? I realised that at any moment the door may give way and I may be left with no mercy at the belligerent gathering.Man,, you have to live, at least for your kids, your family, clinging on the only hope that is you, and they cant just be left in the lurch , and you are not destined to be killed by this wicked devils who does not have any feeling for their fellow beings and purely guided by political motives!! My inner conscience cajoled me , I was almost at the end of my wits when I knew that jumping through the balcony may be foolish, as, even if I reach the ground in one piece there was a bigger mob down there to swallow me alive with burning torches,in their hands.Now I have to somehow prevent the mob breaking open my door, only hope was to try to push the heavy book rack against it, which I don’t know whether I can manage alone!I had only Hobson’s choice, I lunged toward the rack and mustered all the strength and courage left with me, and pushed, OHHH, it is inching toward the door, hopefully,Minutes appeared as long long hours to me , but by Herculean efforts, I could reach it against the door, by the time the hinges were squealing heavily with the tremendous pressure withstood so long . Hell, my temples were bleeding like hell, blinding me , and I was about to loose conscience, but, some how, I managed to keep my eyes open, and wiping away the blood which was gushing out of the wounds. I felt a bit safe at the thought that the noise outside was gradually receding and there was abrupt silence for a few seconds, I tried to peep through the balconly, which was grilled and covered, though, and to ignite my anxiety, I found the crowd was gone and there were occupants of the neighbouring flats fleeing to safety.I could hear them shouting , ohh God, this trauma, will it end, or just engulf me in its wrath of disastrous flames forever?God, hath sent all men equal , with no barriers of religion, caste or creed, , and it is high time that the different man made communities who created these impregnable fortresses,bury the hatchet and nurse the wounds hatched up in utter hatred and disregard to the fellow beings, but in the name of religion!!! ,lest the budding generation, unwary of such heinous crimes, shall never ever forgive, and their every single drop of tear shall shatter to smithereens including the last one who lies buried under the graveyards of insanity.
My happiness was shortlived when I found that through the broken window panes smoke balls were slung inside, and in a fraction of a second I could sense the acrid smell of burning wood and rubber, oh!! They have put my home on fire!!!. Kerosene and dirty clothes on fire created a nauseating sensation, and I was chocking ., virtually, when my inner self guided me toward the toilet on the other side, of the hall, where I snapped open the shower and tried to cooldown my sweltering body, , and kept all the taps open and water gushing out of them provided a temporary solace to my ailing self, though I knew that the water also will defitely get hot with the tubes getting burnt, and to add fuel to the fire, my nostalgic collection of books went aflame, I shut the bathroom door, in utter agony, only to realise that my time must be counted from now, as there is no escape , and as the water too started getting hotter, and hotter, I felt to muster all the left life in me and started praying, that let God forgive me of all the sins, as I felt being dragged down in a whirlpool never ending, to depths unfathomed, where reality is lost to infinity, and the glow of a thousand suns washing away the tiniest ember, into oblivions.Hours later: may be days ???I woke up and found myself ensconsed to the bed, shivering and quite a lot of inquisitive eyes prying on me ?. Was I alive, or in the netherworld? I couldn’t decipher, but to my feeble mind, as a soothing breeze, I could recognise my children, my wife, and all my loving friends, oh,, God is great, they told me that I luckly escaped as the police had rushed to the site by the time I fell unconscious in the toilet, and the flowing water inside kept me live!! My skin was almost baked, but, I lived, I live even today, cursing myself, of this barbaric insane and uncivilized society which I live in, hands tied, blinded , brainwashed, and left to continue like a vegetable lamenting on my fate.!!!
ajay menon
2)The Eternal Slumber short story
It was a hot summer night.I was twisting and turning in my bed yearning for a wink of sleep.It must be well past 2 AM.Despite the High court’s Orders, the neighbouring Hotel cum Bar was on full swing, thunderous music,catering to the elite night owls!Well, I used to envy those street urchins sleeping on the footpath,totally ignorant, unperturbed of the screeching,howling traffic which never dies till the wee hours of the morning.Suddenly I started perspiring unusually, palpitating,.. Oh! that Pain in the chest, !! Help!! I tried to yell, .. If only somebody gave me some water,,!Am I becoming deaf?, I wanted to scream my head out!! but, well, a moment later,, I felt as if Iam floating!! I could really feel the weightlessness,Yes, Iam in the air, drifting with the currents, afloat, .Now there is absolutely no pain, and my thirst has subsided, and feeling energetic, free, yes, really, all those mundane bonds are broken,I am as light as a feather,!!!But something looked very odd! I see another “me” in the bed,calm, composed, still sleeping ? I tried to recollect what happened to me.OH! The feeling sent tremors inside me.Nay, in my ethereal ‘body’.Yes I think, I think that Iam DEAD.True, very true, I wanted to call her , my wife; she is fast asleep.I yelled , nothing, nothing happens. My daughter too ignorant ,unaware that her daddy is dead, innocently sleeps, with her thumb in her mouth.She is dreaming of her pet dog, which her daddy never bought her. It is great to know what they are dreaming, or thinking, NOW I am able to understand the inner self , to visualize their feelings,everything!!! Yes, Iam dead…I tried to move around , it is quite easier now, that I could squeeze myself through the tiny key hole in the door, or the airvents of the A/C.“Welcome to our world, Menon” I could hear that whisper, There were quite a few like me, floating, and some sitting on the top most barks of the grey banyan tree yonder in the children’s park. My good ol’ friends!!Yes, my uncle was there, I remember, he died when he was working as a Judge. “come Babu” ( he calls me babu) he beckoned me. I was indeed very happy that I never dreamt that I could ever meet him again!“Mama (uncle) , I read your judgement in the “Suryanelli” Case, it was so wonderful that how you appreciated the circumstantial evidence and made a landmark judgement and awarded capital punishment ,which was confirmed by the Supreme court,” I beamed at him.With his enigmatic smile he mused “ the life of a Judge is full of tension,babu,, You don’t really live ;as a Judge, it is a sort of self imprisonment, in the coveted chair, lest you don’t become a Real Judge.“True Mama, but how is life over here?“It is enchanting, exhilarating, the real Rama Rajya as dreamt by Mahatma” We love each other, and seldom fight for anything,because we want nothing ““Really?, then I think it is good to be dead..!!”I returned back to my home, and it was almost 7.30 AM. My daughter was still sleeping sucking her thumb!.She is getting up ,, My wife,well, I think she never noticed that Iam DEAD. OH, God! If only I could speak?I tried to poke her with my finger, but my fingers are going right through her body!! Fool!! You are dead, as dead as a duck!! My inner conscience reprimanded me.Yes, now,she will know, .She has come with the bed coffee. She is calling me, now shaking me,, .Suddenly she withdrew her hands off me, and dropped the coffee cup . Yes, that is it, she is now yelling, Finally, she knew , she realized that Iam DEAD. My mother in law come running, and once she also came to know the truth, there were lots of tears, sniffs and sobs, the routine stuff , when you die!! I also felt like crying, but nay, I am unable to,When my daughter too got up, and tried to wake me up, then I really felt that I shouldn’t have died.Later, when they cremated my earthly self, I never felt anything.That evening I went drifting all the way to my friends house, .Purohit had melancholic look, “He smoked quite a lot, I warned him ,but in vain” he muttered. “I too never felt that he will leave us so soon” Ravi was also in tears, .Yes, they were my true friends, I wished if I could speak to them.I am by their side, so close, so far, .Yes , what life could never teach me death hath done. “ Ye mortal , life is too short, and when God hath blessed you with that ,make the best out of it, lest you never get a second chance”Rrrrrrrriiiiiiinnnnnnnggg …. The blasted alarm.Oh, was it only a dream?
Ajay menon
3)TRANSITION
Hearing a loud 'thud' I woke up from my slumber. Damn it, time is already 8 o'clock. Its going to be late to Office today! The morning 'wake up' coffee never reached today. What happened to Annie? I don't know whether she gave the cup of milk to Sonu at least? Oh! it is there, the cup is lying on the floor with left over milk spilt all over! It is her bad habit, Sonu leaves some milk always at the bottom of her cup after she had had it and then she throws it down. Tease her, taunt her, she will never change! Now a days Annie does not seem to be so affectionate as she used to be, seven years ago. Everything has got a tinge of discomfort, a feeling of apathy or rather routine monotony. The warmth of love has flown away through the windows and what remains is the bare skeleton of mutual adjustment. Is seven years such a long time to drift away so much, from an 'eternal bond' of an ideal marriage? I don't know? The Autowala will honk sharp at 8.30 for Sonu. I have to bathe her and dress her up for school as a dutiful husband. (Obviously, those chores falls in my portfolio). Then starts the never ending tussle between Annie and Sonu; making Sonu eat is but a herculean task. She has developed strong likes and dislikes for almost everything, including food. After that starts the next episode , that is combing her hair. At the age of six, we were never so conscious about our looks! Were we? But the little girl does! She even carries a comb to her school hidden in her school bag! I came out of the toilet with the wet newspaper, as ever, and Annie frowns over it, she too likes to have a fresh neat newspaper with her in the toilet. Of course, that is her right! Well, I then dress up and drop Sonu at the gate. We don't find time here for anything personal. Bonded within the wooden framework of the clock, we live cursing ourselves, hoping for a better tommorrow; she has to reach Office by 10.30 and I have to by 10 AM. At times I feel are we better than serfs? Nay. In a way all of us are bonded to mundane materialistic drudgery, on our way up the ladders, forgetting happily that we are but mortal. "What should bother you, you are lucky and blessed being a "double engine", mutters my friend, but lo! does he ever know the woes that goes alongwith it? It is true that in this mega city one has to work hard to eke out a living and single income especially in the salaried class is too meagre to have a decent living! The 'Bhai' engaged for cleaning and washing, started demanding too many paid leave, and I thought it better to do away with her rather than piling up routine chores, when she takes too many 'unauthorised' leave. So, that work also shifted to our already stooping shoulders, the cleaning work Annie took over, and the washing by me. A fair deal, isn't it? What a wonderful marital life? That is it, after all those, where do you find time for a little romance, nay, togetherness and Sonu has become more demanding now a days for her slot of time? Yes, there are more merits for the double engine couple, I do not wish to elaborate,lest it may bore you.(but for the financial benefit!!). Yes, seven years before, when I met Annie, I do remember; At the working women's hostel, I had been there with Ajith, whose girl friend was there, Vimla. This girl, with a soft, tender, restricted disposition, presented herself with Vimla keeping her copy of Linda Goodman's 'Sun Signs' tucked between her bosom and forearm. Wonderful, wasn't there something, some uniqueness, peculiarity, which made her stand apart from the crowd, or was it a bachelor's fantacy? Well, can't make out now, as I am unable to believe that I was ever a bachelor!Next we met at National Library between the book racks, while fiddling for some good book. She smiled at me and I think we were thinking in the same wave length and could even predict each others next move. All of it ended in the 'knot' well before even an anniversary. Today after seven years, crippled under the massive clutches of realities, finding that the path of life is never full of roses, (not even a single?), trying to wriggle out of it, rowing against the strong currents, dreaming of a better tommorrow, and then untimely succumb to those pressures to realise, what have I gained? What did I lose?
At home, at times we do not speak to each other for weeks together, (the very same couple who thought, that they can't even live a second without each other, but, seven years ago) grumbling, finding fault with each other. Are we drifting apart? Gradually? I don't know. The transition from yesterday to the present was really fast, really fast. The good old memories are lurking in the inner conscience vividly and funnily enough we never bothered to synchronise and bring back the melodies of love. There has to be a change It is inevitable; yes. I do crave for it. The routine monotony in the bedroom emphasises the need for it. Added to the toll, high B.P and persistent stress gifted by the 'metro' life. At thirty five, I feel all spent and old, but why? I feel, a change should bring back the colours of life!"You don't love me anymore, you have cheated me". She used to howl at me, often, which do irritate me the more! Cheating! Did I? The initial address "Honey", "Love" have been displaced by a meagre "you" and she still feels that I should have the same concern for her. How selfish?After all what is 'love'? Love at this age is nothing but "sex". If it is denied, delayed, the animal in you starts murmuring, then grumbling, and at last, it shouts and shuns you, the other animal! It is just like the craving for a drop of water by the hot desert sands. Well, it was one of these days, I found 'Admag'. A weekly meant only for Ad's. You can put an ad for anything under the sun, and you find them there too! Why not place an ad in Admag. "A young energetic man seeks friendship/company from like minded women." Yes. I did, the next week pop came the ad came and I then kept my fingers crossed for response. The first call I received was from a lady aged 50, and I bluntly but politely turned down her 'offer'. She must have thought me as a gigolo, or what? After two three days thereafter, my hopes were cherished by a lovely voice on the mobile. She must be young and cute! (Did I hear this voice before!!). I dreamt. Indeed she was hardly 28. We introduced ourselves (Bet, both did not disclose their true identities!) and the telephone romance bloomed. I used to speak with her almost everyday, as if I was avenging my wife Annie.But Annie, unaware of these (hopefully) never cared. The frownings and making faces at each other, continued as a matter of routine at home.Finally, the rendezvous was fixed. Both of us were longing to meet each other. Near Marine Lines, a secluded spot (Not so! it is Bombay!!) was identified for the grand meeting! She was to wear read salwar and me, light blue trousers and white full sleeve shirt. That was our identity to recognize each other. It was a Friday and I left the Office slightly early. My heart was pounding, (already I suffer from tachycardia!). It was to be sweet; the first meeting. I saw her, watching creeping little crabs on the wet sand, her face down and she was looking gorgeous! "Smitha is it not you?""Yes". She turned her face to me. Astounded, benumbed I stood there, it was she, my Annie, with her red salwar!" Ajay Menon.
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