The slide, the burns and the bully.

Most of the people have their best days in their kindergarten. Not me.

I had a best friend then. She was the only one who weighed more than me, and the duo terrorized the whole class. I was her silent partner, her shadow. I reminded them my existence only when it was needed. 

She was absent one day and the world seemed empty. No one to play with. No one to laugh with. I became a loner from a bully that day.

I sneaked out of the class and went down the steep stairs with cautious little steps. I reached the play-ground and immediately regretted. It was too hot. Hot, Hot, Hot.

But, the kids were all playing. How? I felt left alone...discarded. I had to do something. I am not someone, who sits in a classroom because she has no friends to play with. I don’t need anyone to have fun!

My eyes scanned the whole play-ground for a place to play! There was none. Everything was occupied…my favourite swings, the see saw…everything! Then I found it… THE SLIDE! It was empty. Why no one is using it? Blah!

It was made of metal, which spiralled down the wooden stairs that we use to reach the top. There were two slides, one a smaller one and the other bigger which spiralled two times. I went for the bigger one; I was in the mood for action! Growl

I went up the stairs. It was windy up there. My skirt rode up when I sat on the slide for my downward movement. Then I heard two sounds.

One was a hiss, which came when my backside made contact, with the scalding metal.

Second one was a high pitched agonized scream from my own throat.

And then before I can think, I was speeding downwards on the slide…

I was screaming the whole time, and in those agonizing moments...I realised that the slide doesn’t have a breaking system. I have to bear it until I reach the bottom. That damn thing spirals twice!

My scream had gathered the whole school and my teachers were waiting for my arrival with a bucket of water. The teacher yanked me out, and then I felt the gush of cold water over my burned bum. A sigh of relief escaped my lips…

But another pain claimed me immediately when I heard their laughter. Everyone saw my burned bum. Everyone laughed at my burned bum.

I was taken to my home immediately. As they laid me down, I wanted to know what exactly happened to my bum. Is there anything left there? I tried to twist and look at my back. My aunty understood what I was trying to do and she showed me the underpants I was wearing. It was torn where it matters the most. Everyone saw my naked burned bum.

The news spread like wild fire. Then I was known as the bully with the burned bum.

Rebounds.

I looked at them, and they looked at me back. There they are Frying pan, Oil, eggs and what not. If you know what to do with them, you will get a dinner. But there I was, simply staring at them with a grim face. Sigh. My stomach grumbled stating its agitation. “Consider it as dieting, idiot”, I mumbled. Sigh again.

The phone rang waking up half the neighbours and pissing me off more.

“Heylo”, I answered.

“Hey”. It was him. Why does he want to call me in the night?

“Yeah?”

“Want to go for dinner? I couldn’t sleep. There would be some midnight restaurants”. Bless him.

My face lightened up. There are two reasons for that – Free dinner, and unlimited supply of cigarettes. He is one of the guys who smokes like a chimney and is not ashamed of it. It was inspiring for a closet smoker like me. He was very much in love with a woman, a true romantic. Weird people! I was an entity for him – a weird, Living, breathing, yapping entity who has a good knowledge in science and Hollywood films. It relaxed me too, and I was never ashamed of begging him for cigarettes.

He picked me up in the car after 20 minutes. I was still in my pyjamas. It was a good drive and we spoke about our lives, dreams, ex lovers, ambitions and films. The “midnight restaurant” was a 4 star hotel with buffet. Buffett. My tummy rejoiced. I sprinted to get a plate and ran around sampling all the food little by little. When there were no more food items left to be tasted, he signalled to take the seat next to him.

The conversation continued and I continued gobbling. The Biriyani is awesome.

“Do you know? A guy should be lucky to marry you”, he said smiling.

I rolled my eyes. Oh! Here comes the sarcasm. But, right now, I am hungry. I did not bother to raise my eyes to meet his. I am a hungry woman!

“If I had met you before meeting her, I would have loved you”, He continued.

I stopped chewing and looked up with mouthful of biriyani. This is serious. I faked a giggle as I didn’t know how to react.

We sat and ate the rest of the dinner in silence. My brain was churning the thoughts so loud that I feared he would be able to hear it. Why does he have to say that to me? Does he think that I am easy? Is he hitting on me? Does he think I am such a loser that I will fall for any man?  The thoughts were endless and it was not going anywhere. I shook my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts. I need a cigarette!

I stretched a little taller trying to find where the smoking room is.

“What happened?” He asked seeing that.

“Nah, feel like smoking”, I replied.

“...because of what I said?” he mocked.

“No, because of the biriyani”, I retorted.

“So what do you think?” He pushed the topic.

“What is there to think? You already HAVE a girl friend” I snubbed.

“Not any more”, He said under his breath.

“What happened?” I probed. This is interesting.

“Nothing. She called it off. Please, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“OK”, I stopped. May be some other time. I was a total sucker for a good gossip.

“Will you marry me?” He asked all of a sudden.

I grinned. “Maybe we should get a cigarette”.

He nodded and started his walk towards the car.  I followed him smiling.

Rebounds, Rebounds everywhere!

The angels.

Life was in turmoil for me then. It revolved Fast, too fast. My poor eyes were unable to keep up. I was still struggling in my sorrow filled world. With each step I take to get out, I slipped back more in to it.

I was becoming an alien to my friends. The growing dark circles around my eyes were the gift of my sleep-less nights. I walked aimlessly, my mind wandered but deep down I knew what I needed the most. It was a simple wish. I just needed him to call me.

I didn’t know when this journey to disintegration started, when his love for me was replaced by this cold indifference. The professors always made their best to remind me about my falling grades. I cared less. I had lost everything; I don’t have to worry anymore. There is nothing they can take away from me now.


I walked. Just kept on, walking.

I didn’t know when I reached my room. My roommates had learned to avoid me. They knew they could do nothing about my misery. My eyes welled frequently and now they conveniently ignored my sobs during the night. After all, it has been happening for more than a year now. But, they never really understood the real reason of my plight. I was in love, or at least I thought so.



The crowded hostel was suffocating me. Their laughs and merrymaking is not something meant for me anymore. I became silent, like a shadow. They were teasing Sherin, who recently got a proposal from a fellow class-mate. I could see that she was overjoyed. I was euphoric when he proposed me. So I understand. But, what after that? Can she possibly be thinking about my state? Or the way she will feel, when he will start to avoid her. I guess not. No one will.

No one will ever imagine their dreams being shattered, when they are so eagerly and carefully filling it with everything nice. I was good in it. I dreamed big about small things in life. Now even though I am watching them crumbling down, and I was still fighting it with my last ounce of strength. I couldn’t make myself believe that the damage is done. I couldn’t stop myself from hoping, and my heart leaped, whenever my phone rang.


Days passed. Weeks passed. Months passed. I was losing my patience. I was losing the hope that someday this pain will go away. I tried to be active, to mingle with everyone. But the ache was something inside me and it was killing me like cancer. I couldn’t make it go away. His face in my memories never faded. He never stopped coming in my dreams.

In one of my attempts to avoid my roommates, I ended up in the bathroom. Finally some space! I was crying. The ease with which the tears filled my eyes had stopped to surprise me. Now crying was a way a life. I was becoming angry, at myself, at him…at the whole world. What did I do to deserve this?

A strange determination seeped over me. I need to end this today. I can’t take it any longer. I am going to do whatever it takes.

There was only one option left for me. And that option was sounding more and more plausible as the time passed. Who needs me in this world anyway? And I don’t have any commitments either.

I sneaked out. My friends are working on the drawing sheet to be submitted tomorrow. I never had to bring it home; I was able to finish it in the college itself.



I searched my soldering kit. I got the blade. It was used to swipe away the insulation of the cables. I checked; it is sharp. It will be the apt tool for the act. I slipped back in to the bath-room. Nobody used to question my act those days. I was a bubble floating around aimlessly in mid-air.

My parents have already made it very clear, that they will live happily even without me. I remembered how my father pretended to be deaf, when I asked for school fees. I knew that I am a mile stone around my mother’s neck, the only thing which ties her to the gruesome married life she is having. So, no regrets there.

I checked for my pulse. Found it. I was reluctant for a second.

What will I say to God after I reach heaven? Or how it will be in hell? Am I doing the right thing?

His face flashed in my memory once again and my mind screamed for its freedom from this wretched body. I will trade anything for an escape from this, even my soul.

I closed my eyes, and slashed my wrist where I found the pulse. The blood gushed out. Thick rich velvety liquid.

It was warm, my warmth and it was going down the drain, like my life.

I waited.

Minutes passed…

I didn’t know what to expect. How will it be…?

I looked up for the angels or the demons, which would have come to escort me for the final journey. None!

I have stopped to bleed. I shook my hand a little. Still nothing.

I slashed my wrist again. A new gush of warm blood. It made me smile. I smiled at the zeal with which I wanted to die.

I waited again. The flow of my blood started thinning down again. I slashed it again and again.

Then the realization settled like a mist over me -- I am not going to die today

I slipped out of my bathroom and went to sleep silently. I had covered my wound with a cloth. It was dripping blood and I hoped that no one will notice it in that dim light. I tried to remember all the promises, he had given me. I held on to the pillow, as if it were my precious memories of him. After sometime, I became too tired to weep, and slipped in to a dream.

He was my idol of worship, and I was his devotee. I didn’t dare to touch him even in my dreams, fearing that I will make him impure. He was something divine, more precious than my mortal self. I lived in that never ending fascination.

Sreeja jerked me up my sleep. She was holding out my hand. The cloth has fallen off in the middle of my unconsciousness.

“What did you do? Are you mad for slashing your wrist for that a**hole?”

I didn’t know what to say, I looked away.

“You are insane! You need to go to a doctor”. She was holding my other hand tightly. Maybe she feared that if she let me go, I might slip away and never come back. I was still silent.

“Call him, Call Praveen. Call him now”, she commanded.

“I won’t”, I said bluntly. What will I tell my best friend?

“You cannot leave this wound unattended. You need a doctor”, she is almost pleadin now.

I sat up. She was still trying to come up with something. She was worried, genuinely. Yeah, it will be a big trouble if the warden finds out. I have heard somewhere that suicide attempt is a criminal offense. I didn’t want to go to jail. I didn’t want further isolation.

“I will call him”, I surrendered.

Praveen was my bestest buddy. By the level of maturity he shows, I was confident that he will find a way out. But telling him was the problem.

He answered the phone in the second ring. He wasn’t sleeping.

“Praveen, I have got a problem. I tried to commit suicide”, I said nonchalantly.

“How?” he asked. I didn’t find the element of surprise in his voice. May be he was expecting it.

“I slashed my wrist”

A longer pause from him.

“Do you know something? You are a silly woman, a naive girl. You proved it. You know nothing about this world”, He ranted.

I kept quiet. I was in no mood for an argument. The wound had started to bleed again.

“Is it bleeding now? Time is 12.30 and obviously I cannot come to your place now. Ask Sreeja to put first-aid on the wound. I will be there at morning 8.30 sharp. Don’t tell this incident to anyone” He said, without a break. I smiled. His level-headedness is something which has to be admired.

“Get some sleep now. See you tomorrow”, he said before ending the call.  

But, My night was sleepless as usual and I saw the day dawning slowly.

It was time to meet Praveen. I was anxious, but Sreeja hold on to me throughout the small walk even when my legs were quivering. I could see that Praveen was waiting near the park smoking a cigarette. I willed my legs to walk there. I could read from his face he was shaken by the news, but determined.

When I went close to him, he asked me to show my wound. I showed. It was disturbing and his face fell immediately.

“Get a taxi”, he ordered with tenderness.

When the taxi started to move, I saw that Praveen was ahead of us in his bike showing the way, and Sreeja still was holding my hands. I looked her in the eyes. No, she is not going to leave my hand. 

Tears welled up in my eyes. I looked up the sky with tear filled eyes. When you really need them, Angels will never fail to show up.

Someone in there!

I was talking over the phone in the hall next to the row of bathrooms. Once I finished the call, and started towards my room, I saw her peaking inside the bath room and then taking two steps back. She was holding her clothes bundled in her arms and I could see that she had plans to take a bath. I got concerned when she repeated it twice more.

“What’s the problem?” I asked walking towards her.

She was startled by my question. That concerned me more. What inside that bathroom is stealing all her attention?

“There is someone in there.” She whispered.

I halted in the middle of my stride. There is someone inside the bathroom of a girl’s hostel at night. I should be alarmed, and I was.




I signaled her to step back from the bathroom. But to my surprise she signaled me to come closer. WHAT? Does she want me to get attacked too? My instinct was to run downstairs and to wake up warden, but I could not make myself leave this stubborn girl so curiously looking in to the bathroom. I tiptoed close to her. She again whispered, “Ask him to go, please”. I was bewildered. Why would a burglar listen to my words? Mustering courage and putting confidence in my ability to scream really loud, I went close to that bathroom and peaked inside. It was empty. I glared at her now.

“Look, on the left”, she said in a muffled voice.

Nothing. I sighed.

“No, No, No, on the wall” She called out.

I checked again. There was an equally bewildered Gecko starting back at me with his innocent eyes. OK, Now I am mad.



“That “someone” is a gecko, and it has never killed anyone in the history of this damn world”, I exploded.

“OK, then make it go”, she quipped.

“Why?” I pleaded.

“I cannot take a bath before an audience”. She said flatly.

Womanhood.

“Sir, please sir, I just need a day’s attendance…I am sure, you will be able to think of something”, I begged.

“Shut up, let me finish with him”

The sir was a good looking guy with a pleasant face. This made all the more impossible to guess if he is angry or not. He is a good teacher, but tight-fisted when it comes to internal marks. I wasn’t the one who cared much for marks and we never got a chance for a duel. He was happy doing his job and I was happy not doing my job. But now, fate intertwined our destinies, and there I was standing in front of him because of my low attendance.

I looked at Neeraj (my fellow class mate ) through the corner of my eye. He was crying. It was nauseating to see a 6 foot tall guy with moustache crying like a baby. But sir was enjoying it profoundly. I pledged to myself -  I will not cry.

What did I do after all?

I didn’t find my faults as un-forgivable. The classes were a torture and I found happiness in the canteen. That’s all I did.

Minutes passed, but tears never stopped pouring out of his eyes. It was annoying and I was losing my patience. You don’t need to cry THIS much! The sir eyed me occasionally as if challenging me to come up with a better plan than his whining. I looked back at him blankly. ‘No sir, I am not going to put up a drama for viewing pleasure.’

After an hour of deliberation and watching that panicky poor thing dance around his office, he let him go! Then, He turned to me.

“What’s your reason?” he asked.

“Sir,.. Umm…, nothing…I just need a day’s attendance sir, and I swear I wont let this happen again”. I wanted to end it quickly.

He wasn’t amused.

“I need to talk to your parents”

“Sure, sir”. I dialled my mother’s number in my cell phone and gave it to him. My mother knew I am an out-cast in my family and this call won’t sway her much.

“Your daughter’s career is going down ….she has a bad attitude and we see her more in the campus canteen than in our classes” he said over the phone…blah blah blah. I rolled my eyes. ‘Oh! Now he is the caring fatherly figure’.

He finished the call, and looked at me. I wasn’t moved, a bit. ‘No sir, you still can’t make me cry.'

“You can go”, He said after returning my phone.

I gave him the papers to be signed eagerly.

“No, I ain't going to sign it”

“Why sir? You just talked to my mother…she understood the gravity of the situation and here I am swearing that it won’t happen again. Now what’s the problem?”

“…problem is, you are a girl. And you don’t seem to understand it”

“Cant a “girl” bunk classes?”, it came out a little too hard.

He gave me a cold stare now. Oh, I get it. “A girl” shouldn’t question the act of her male teacher.

“Sir, it is not by my fault that I became a woman” I blurted…

Still no reaction.

“Sir, you gave him 3 days attendance ‘coz he is a boy and you are sending me away ‘coz I am a girl? “ I fumed…

Now, He smiled. It took me a while to get the reason behind that smile. Yeah, he had finally succeeded in getting on my nerves. I stormed out. Damn him, and damn his signature.

Tears were pouring out of my eyes. It was of rage.

“You should have cried it there in that room, instead of here.” Neeraj spoke from behind. He had overheard the conversation. He didn’t sound anything like a cry-baby I saw 5 minutes before. Damn his theatrics! He smirked and leaned over the wall basking in his victory of getting the paper signed.

I realised I was holding “The text of microelectronics by Sedra and Smith” for the whole time. It was getting heavy in my hands.

He continued. “ See, he is really an idiot...all you need is to get really emotional, and he will sign it in no time”. I blinked. Did he just advise me?

That was the last thing I needed. I swinged back and hurled the book at him. It hit the wall, where he was leaning seconds before he ran for his life.

Aaarrrggghhhh! Damn him and his manhood!

Phone(y) call.

This happened four years before and I was not this much intelligent that time. You might be wondering, why I am saying this now, but trust me, this sentence can answer a lot of questions which will pop in your head, while reading the rest of the story.

It was a late evening, and I was in my room. My heart usually races, when I get a call those days. It was not something which happened frequently those days. I was Miss. Nobody. But when I answered his call I was totally cool. He is introduced himself as Mr. Krishnan and said that I am Sandhya. I gracefully accepted it. Who cares? What is there in  a name?

I should have ended the call immediately but, the lack of phone calls to my number made me think twice. Oh’ C’mon no one ever got killed because of answering a stranger’s phone call!

His voice reminded me of melting butter. So smooth and so rich. He can talk for hours and we did talk for 2 hours. I realized then, he knew all about me (including my real name!).

Any girl would have been scared, if she got a stalker on her tail… but I wasn’t (read the first sentence, please). I was curious. I knew that Curiosity kills the cat but, I was not a cat. I wanted to get to the bottom of this call, I wanted to know which of my friends betrayed me. I was bold, bold up to the verge of stupidity. I was in for the game.

He called me every day after that, and with each day the reluctance to talk to him diminished .Slowly I gained confidence, that he is  not a member of al-Qaeda. He became my emotional-ventilator, my personal ego-booster. I can yell at him. I can bang the phone right on his face. I can tell him to get-lost, to hang himself, to jump in front of a speeding train…a million times. I did all sort of things, to measure his patience. Still, he never left his cool. Still, he called me after 2 minutes and I took him for granted with glee.

This went on for three months…(read the first sentence, please). Then, he made his next step. He wanted to meet me.

Oh no! I am not that stupid, to go in front of a man, whom I have insulted a million times.

I was feeling bad too, because I knew he did all these things in vain. I was never going to meet him or to be his girl. At least he could have made an investment with all the money he paid for his mobile bill to call me. But, somethings are beyond our control right? And I never asked him to call me! It is not my fault.

Then, He started to follow me wherever I went.

He knew that I went to a particular temple on Saturday. He described the color of my churidhar I wore that evening.

He called me to tell me that he is in front of my college.

He called me when I went to my college function to say he is there too.

Luckily he was not man enough to confront me, but he did manage to creep me. I became frantic. I have to lose him off my tail! The engineer in me sprang in to action. I googled!!!

I downloaded the software, which automatically ends the call when a particular number calls. I installed it my mobile and blocked every number from which he called.

My phone became dead again And I lost myself in my daily chores, peacefully.

And after 6 months or so, I got his call again, the same smooth velvety voice. It was from an another new number, but I recognized the voice as soon as I heard the "hello". I had missed him and his calls. I was happy to get him back. I wanted to make a clean start, like the ordinary friends do.

We talked for 10 minutes, and he said he is needed somewhere else biding good bye. Well, I was surprised… I was the one who usually ask him to get-lost.

He called me again after 4-5 days. This time, I was the nicest girl. I wanted to make sure that he will call me again sooner. We talked for long. We exchanged the Facebook account details and There I saw his picture for the first time. He was an average looking guy. Clean shaved and with a clear skin, which will be more appropriate on a girl's face.

Then he said that!!!

HE MET SOMEONE! He is in love with someone else.

I could hear my heart shattering this time.

He is no more my Mr. taken-for-granted. I felt spurge of anger. I felt cheated. How can he go after another woman? How can he? Even if I blocked him and asked him hang himself, how can he? That was too rude and un-forgivable!

I banged the phone right on his face for the last time and re-installed the blocking software on my phone! THE END.

Trip to the moon.

“God exists” I declared

He looked up the sky,” do you think he is sitting there, watching two drunk people talking about him?” he asked.

“Nope, he is every where… like the ether medium…inside everything considered as matter, you and me” I clarified.

“So he will hear if I call him a f@##er?” he asked.

“I think he already knows what you think of him”.

But my answer didn’t do any good. He yelled up in to the sky “you f@##er, I don’t think you exist”. I rolled my eyes. Too much of alcohol.

Suddenly he noticed the moon. “I want to go to the moon”, he said with a smile.

“Surely you can”. I was about to preach him the nothing-is-impossible crap, but he said “yeah I will, one day”. He was full of hope. It was a good thing. I like people having hopes for the impossible. They are fools to the realists, but a good company to the alcoholics.

His trip of going to the moon was to die, then to decay. Then one of his hydrogen molecules will escape from the earth’s atmosphere, and then he will enter the orbit of the moon. Too smart for a drunken guy eh?

“Perhaps, I can die too and sent one of molecule along with you. We will fuse together, in the moon becoming helium and giving out hell lot of energy”, I said looking at the moon myself. I just wanted to give him a company in his trip to moon, like I was giving him company in drinking.

I didn’t mean it to be romantic. The guy who was standing in front was almost a stranger, but all I wanted to do was to show compassion. To show him that I like his company… and that many will like his company. To show him that there are a lot of good people here in earth and that he doesn’t have to go to the barren moon to find peace.

He looked at me now. After a bit of hesitation, he bent down for a kiss. I didn’t move, denial clearly in my eyes. I didn’t want to be kissed, or maybe I didn’t want to be kissed yet. He understood my reluctance and straightened up.

“Want to get some more beer?” he asked sportively. “Yeah” I replied immediately feeling relieved. We both sprinted out to get some more beer. No more talks about the moon, we decided.

It is all about the crow!

We were in a housing colony, somewhere along the countryside where the land was endowed with greenery. All the malice of the world was unknown to the people there. In that piece of heaven, there were 2 angels. Me and her.

She was looking in to the infinity mulling over something. She was quiet the whole evening, and on the way back from temple. Something was bothering her, and I was waiting patiently to know the source of her irritation.

“Can a crow fart?” She asked out of the blue.

“What?” I blurted out. Even though the question was absurd, my mind had started to process the question thrown at me. The crows unlike humans have a single hole to do all their business. I thought about the peristaltic moments in the bowels, and the diet of a crow which can possibly end in farting. I thought about it for good 20 minutes, and in the end I was blank. Can a crow fart?

“I don’t know”. I said.







“My mother won’t be able to go to Crorepathy show”. Her voice was heavy with sadness.

Crorepathy is a reality show, where they will ask you some questions, and if you get them right…wola! You are a Crorepathy. But, I never knew her mother was in to being rich and famous. To me, she seemed to be content in staying in the colony itself.

“What happened?”

“I got a call from Crorepathy program, when my mother was not there”…she started narrating…”they asked me two questions, which I answered correctly…but this was the third one. I seriously don’t know if a crow can fart. I even tried googling it, but nothing came up”. She was feeling guilty for letting her family down.

“That is a tough question. How come one can know if a crow can fart or not?” I asked her, trying to console her.

I used to visit her parents after this small walk to the temple. We knocked the door and it was opened by her older cousin. He is a techie working in some IT firm who used to visit us, once or twice a year. He was the big brother for both of us, teaching us both the good and bad things of life. As we entered he pulled my hair, and I kicked at him. That was our way of sharing pleasantries.

Her mother offered me a cup of tea. I was sipping the tea when she asked “did you get a call from Crorepathy?” to her. There was a tone of accusation in her voice. I gulped down the mouthful of hot tea. I can see the panic rising in my friend. I started to panic too, a family fight is going to break lose and I was sitting right in the middle of it. I eyed the ways to exit.

“Maa… I didn’t mean it ma… the questions were really tough… I thought I will make it, I never thought they will ask questions about biology… you know ma…. I am not that good in biology, I am sorry ma… I really am…” she was on the verge of breaking down to tears. I held my breath, to hear the final verdict from her parents. Are they going to throw her out of the house or are they going to going to kill her?

“How tough the questions can possibly be?”Her cousin asked her. She glared at him for adding fuel to the fire and I thanked God, for not blessing me with a bigger brother.

“Could it be as tough as the question…” he continued…” Can a Crow fart?!”

The whole room broke in to laughter and she stood in the middle looking pale. I was confused. Should I join them in their laughter as they had given me tea, or should I stand beside my friend in her state of embarrassment? Then I realized no one was paying attention to my reaction to the whole thing. So I let it pass, by occasionally laughing when her parents looked at me and acted grim when she looked at me.

It was dark when I stood up to go to my home. It was a 10 minute walk from her house and Her cousin volunteered to walk me to my home. While on the walk back to my home, I was not able to keep my curiosity at bay.

“Can a crow ACTUALLY do that?” I asked him.

THE END.

Blood-Ties

I was waking up from my afternoon nap. It has been two days since I got home from college. Two quiet days.

My mother was sitting next to me. I reckoned by her sobs that she hasn’t gotten over the fight with my father. My room was her solace at the times like this. The sleep made me feel fresh and my stomach growled; I haven’t eaten anything for the past 24 hours. Perhaps, no one did in the house. I didn’t care.

I got out of my bed, brushed my teeth even though it was night 7 O' clock. I made myself some tea and tried to open the fridge to see if there is anything to eat. It was locked. Why would someone lock the fridge in their own house?

I went back to my mother. “It is your father, he took all the food and locked it inside”, she told me not waiting for me to ask the question.

I sighed. I know this is the start of another fight. I was calm. It is not the first time.

I walked up to his room, and knocked on his door. No answer. He usually sits with his headphone on, so I called at him louder. Nothing. I called him many more times, and silence greeted me back. I stood there before the closed door…waiting.

I looked down at my hands, it was shivering. My body is pumping me with adrenaline preparing me for the impending fight. Tears of anger were welling up my eyes, thinking of begging my own father for food.

I waited for another 15 minutes….waiting for him open the door. I cursed the moment, when I thought of coming home for my holidays. Two days… two days, I have been here. No one even noticed. No one asked how my college was; No one knew I flunked in another test. My family knew nothing about me. Somewhere in the past they had lost their daughter and I had lost my sense of direction.

I had enough. I had to end all these. I had to fix my life ….. some one has to die.

I walked back to kitchen. Searched for the knife. I returned back, to that locked door behind which my father was hiding. I knocked again. I was breathing heavily. In another 30 minutes, the vendetta of 24 years is going to end.

I took 2 steps back, kicked on the door with all my might. It budged a little. I heard my father getup from his chair in alarm. I did it again and again. The door didn’t break, apart from the slight bend. I pushed the door with my hands…stabbed on it with the knife. I did everything to break it through. The door didn’t yield. That door was not made to be broken by a wee 18 year old girl.

A pictured my father smiling at my futile attempts and my anger went up another notch. I looked around still holding the knife. I was alone in the hall; my mother was sitting in my room cocooned in her own misery. Out side my house, the neighbors were asleep. The night was calm even the crickets was not making the sound. Everything was so peaceful…so beautiful. Everything was right in the world I lived in, except for the boiling rage in my heart. Am I the only mis-fit in the peaceful world? Am I the only trouble-maker?

A scream broke thorough from my throat shattering the calmness of the night.

I screamed with all the anger that is in me. I saw the neighbors turning on their lights, and rushing outside. My mother who was a silent spectator till now rushed to me. I pushed her away. I loathed the acceptance she showed without even putting up a fight. I screamed again and again, at my helplessness. I screamed until I crumpled down on the floor.

When my screams faded down to wails, I looked up at the door of my father’s room with tears stained face.

It was still locked.

Sleeping in the time of anguish!

I was in a deep sleep. Suddenly I was hurled and my head bumped on the seat in the front. Yickes!  That did pain. I rubbed my eyes to look around me. It took a while for me realize that I am in a bus. Yeah I was on a bus, and it looked like that bus had just met with an accident.

I inspected the scenario. Our bus had ran in to another government bus. Thanks to the well conditioned bus I was traveling, the damage was more on the other side. People were running left and right and one woman was sitting in the middle, crying. She had lost her 3 tooth in the front. I felt she had an unusually big tummy and it took another 2 minutes to get it registered in my mind that she is pregnant. My heart sank.

I still hadn't moved from my seat. I was resisting the urge to scratch my head. Good girls don’t scratch their head, at least not in public.

Smoke was slowing arising out of the engine. Instincts kicked in and I was on my way out that second. If that bus was going to get on fire, I was not going to be in it.

I got down and sat on the side walk a little far, still in a haze. Accidents don’t happen to me,and they don’t happen especially when I am asleep. I rubbed my head. It was still paining. Apart from the bump I didn’t see any apparent damage to my head. No wonder they say that I have a thick skull.

I wasn’t scared or traumatized, and it annoyed me. I was still sleepy, and it annoyed me even more. I was searching for a flat surface to lie down. I am a girl of simple wishes, and I take it very seriously when those wishes are not granted, especially sleep.

I looked back at the bus. People were in a frenzy. Ambulances were pouring in to the site, but as per my assumption no one was seriously injured apart from some broken bones and some lost tooth. I saw some heroes rising from the crowd, to save the rest of us mortals. It was easy then. All you have to do is to yell at people a little louder than the rest, give them some absurd instructions and act important. The younger heroes chose to rescue the damsels in distress and it hardly mattered to them even if she is not in a distress. They were gonna rescue her anyway!

And one unfortunate hero abandoned by the rest of damsels did notice the disoriented damsel sitting on the side walk.

“Hey, are you OK?” his tone was pleasant.

I looked up, emotionless. He asked again after a pause, “where is your family?”This time, I blinked.

Family?

Yes, family!... I do have one and they were no where in sight. I went back, searched for them in the middle of that chaos. They were on the other side of the road, searching for me. They were checking every ambulance that was leaving the site. My mother was hysterical with her sobs. I walked closed to her and did "ahem ahem", acknowledging that I am not dead.

She was relieved for an instant, and in the next instant she was frisking me for any injuries. I had to screech to convince that i am really alright. she took a moment to smile and then came the deluge of cursing and accusal. After that there was another 15 minute class on “how to act under emergency situations”. I tried to look like her advise is having an effect, nodding my head when required.

When she is done, I turned around and looked at my father with an “i-am-ready-to-take-your-advise-too” expression. But My father had a proud smile on his face. “You will survive no matter where you go”, he declared.

“I know”, I said, rubbing my head.

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