It said:
Greetings, my old old friend.
The writing had a careless, romantic hint to it. It was scrawly but still beautiful.
How are you, girl? Life hasn't been too jolly. But I still have been merry-making all round the month. The same riots going on at the house. Same old bloody fights. I'm afraid that if this goes on any longer, I'll just pack up my bags and move. A few clothes thrown into a rucksack and here we go. But don't be scared, really. I'll be a good boy, just like you told me to. Mouth shut, but I apologize for cursing under my breath. I don't mean to offend you, but I never understand how you can be so cruel as to push me into bearing the brunt of these two maniacs who call themselves my parents. What with yours being a couple of angels come to earth.
Now I know you must be smiling now. How is the comtemplation, meditation and concentration? I know you can get through the Exams. Wear my favour, will you? Rains have been lashing down for the past four days. The boundary wall almost came down yesterday. Avi says that she'd be going to Jaipur once she decided exactly when. Birthday's coming up, eh? Hint hint. Mum talks about you everyday. She can't really wait till the five years come to an end. I can't say that even I particularly like this wait. I can't even make a couple of lines rhyme. Every song on the radio makes the pages wet. Darn, every song seems depressing. Sadness means sadness, happiness means sadness doubled. I miss you terribly.
Tried my hand at capturing the raindrops in my new camera, but it slipped and fell into a puddle. So tried writing some lines instead. I know you like imagining better. Your picture with the cascade in the background, you know, the one we took in the mountains. The green trees, the red coat and the black hair. You look SO lovely in it. Sparkly water, I can still hear the murmur of the waterfall when I close my eyes. What about you? I'm sure you remember the adorable bunny we chanced to see at the curve.
Life's not the same without you, Bonita Rosita. You know, I viewed the birthday tape two dozen times yesterday just to see you make that funny face, and then smile and wave at the camera. Incridble giggles you have there. Makes my heart flutter. If someone asks what is the awesomest moment of my life, it would be right then. The way I stood transfixed, for the very first time in my life, my mind all vacant. Violins in the background. Very romatic, yes, but very true. These things do happen. They're not just figments of imagination. Do take care now, and I don't want that smile off your face any time. Stick it there. Use some Fevicol, if you feel like. And now don't raise the eyebrows so high. I'd kick myself for not being there to see that happen.
I'll write again soon, as soon as you write back. Or even before it if I feel like, which I most certainly will. Please don't get drenched in the rain too much however much you love doing that. Not until next friday, anyway. I hope we shall be meeting soon.
With Love,
Yours Forever.
She went through the letter again and tried making sense of the random jumble of words it seemed to make slowly. It striked her suddenly. Bang on her head. Her heart thumped against her chest as she steadied herself onto the table and tried controlling the widening grin.
Was this letter from the same person she thought it was from? How strange. If it was, then.. God knows what could come of this unxpected jewel from the treasure of the past. The past of someone.. the past she wanted to get hold of. To keep it locked up. With her. Pure bliss. The person she has always wanted to be. The only person she envied when it came to experiencing Life. Yes. It was Shahana. She knew it.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
The Afternoon
"It is only possible to live happily ever after on a day to day basis."
~ Margaret Bonnano
She peered through the wire fence and concentrated hard on the steel fence on the other side. Half expecting it to melt, but it didn't. She heard non-existant murmurs from nowhere and felt warm inside. A fly buzzed right past her eyes and settled on the back of her hand. Not wanting to shoo it away, she tried to stay still. Still. Still. Not that hard, clenching her hand harder on the barbed wire, she thought deeply. A surge of anger and she pulled at the fence, the fly buzzed away. Happily, she thought. What does the fly know of her life, anyway? Two months.. at the most. It had nothing to do except fly, fly, fly. She realised with a shock that she can't compare herself to an insect.
The afternoon sun warming her back and a dreary sleepiness seeping into her head. She felt her eyes grow heavy and her inside turn colder. She moved her feet a bit and they ached with a dull ache which said that she should try thinking somewhere else. Moving inside, she saw the stray cat sit by the gate and close her eyes. Once inside, she truned around and latched the gate. Sighing deeply, not a sad sigh, not a happy one, just wasted. The floor felt ice cold beneath her feet. She tried sitting on the stairs but it felt colder sitting on hard metal. She decided to go to the old library through the backyard.
The library was always a spot of fascination. Ancient leather-bound books mixed with encyclopedias, dictionaries and books in languages she couldn't understand. Last summer, she'd found a heap of old paperback romances pushed away into a corner. Neglected. She picked one up and sat on the old, rickety chair kept beside the oak table and flipped open the dust-covered book. Sifting through the yellowing pages, trying to see if the book was worth reading, she stumbled upon something she never would have thought of. A letter. An age old letter waiting for someone to read it sometime, somewhere. But she didn't know it would be her. Neither did the original recipient.
She sat and thought hard. Who had written it? Who was it for? What was it doing in this book? What will she find inside after she reads it? Should she read it at all? She looked around the room. No-one. But that was expected. She stood up and went to the door to see if anyone was around. No-one. Out in the sun, it had turned hotter since she had come inside. It made her head ache and she feared her feet being blistered by the scorching ground. She looked up at the mango tree and felt strange. Not one bird in sight. Too hot even for them, she thought. On her better judgement, she turned to go inside the library again.
Just as she's left it, the letter lay folded on the open book kept on the table. She moved slowly towards the table. The letter was folded in the middle with a little doodling done on one side with an ink pen. It smelled faintly of sweet smelling roses and something she could not quite recognize. The smell made her smile, she didn't know why. Tempted, she opened the letter with trembling hands and started reading..
~ Margaret Bonnano
She peered through the wire fence and concentrated hard on the steel fence on the other side. Half expecting it to melt, but it didn't. She heard non-existant murmurs from nowhere and felt warm inside. A fly buzzed right past her eyes and settled on the back of her hand. Not wanting to shoo it away, she tried to stay still. Still. Still. Not that hard, clenching her hand harder on the barbed wire, she thought deeply. A surge of anger and she pulled at the fence, the fly buzzed away. Happily, she thought. What does the fly know of her life, anyway? Two months.. at the most. It had nothing to do except fly, fly, fly. She realised with a shock that she can't compare herself to an insect.
The afternoon sun warming her back and a dreary sleepiness seeping into her head. She felt her eyes grow heavy and her inside turn colder. She moved her feet a bit and they ached with a dull ache which said that she should try thinking somewhere else. Moving inside, she saw the stray cat sit by the gate and close her eyes. Once inside, she truned around and latched the gate. Sighing deeply, not a sad sigh, not a happy one, just wasted. The floor felt ice cold beneath her feet. She tried sitting on the stairs but it felt colder sitting on hard metal. She decided to go to the old library through the backyard.
The library was always a spot of fascination. Ancient leather-bound books mixed with encyclopedias, dictionaries and books in languages she couldn't understand. Last summer, she'd found a heap of old paperback romances pushed away into a corner. Neglected. She picked one up and sat on the old, rickety chair kept beside the oak table and flipped open the dust-covered book. Sifting through the yellowing pages, trying to see if the book was worth reading, she stumbled upon something she never would have thought of. A letter. An age old letter waiting for someone to read it sometime, somewhere. But she didn't know it would be her. Neither did the original recipient.
She sat and thought hard. Who had written it? Who was it for? What was it doing in this book? What will she find inside after she reads it? Should she read it at all? She looked around the room. No-one. But that was expected. She stood up and went to the door to see if anyone was around. No-one. Out in the sun, it had turned hotter since she had come inside. It made her head ache and she feared her feet being blistered by the scorching ground. She looked up at the mango tree and felt strange. Not one bird in sight. Too hot even for them, she thought. On her better judgement, she turned to go inside the library again.
Just as she's left it, the letter lay folded on the open book kept on the table. She moved slowly towards the table. The letter was folded in the middle with a little doodling done on one side with an ink pen. It smelled faintly of sweet smelling roses and something she could not quite recognize. The smell made her smile, she didn't know why. Tempted, she opened the letter with trembling hands and started reading..
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