"I hate you"
I push the key into the lock, it fits seamlessly. I turn it. A click that echoes deep within me. Resonance of a mechanical drone that my life has become. I feel the not so distant echo of huge iron gates coming up as chains of thoughts pull up the iron curtains from the existence they hold within. I plant my first foot inside and feel it engulf me like the shadowy mist of a thousand dreams left on haunted shores of reality. I step in and close the door behind me. The chains race again as the iron curtain falls. The door closes behind me with a loud thud, an explosion of darkness as last remnant of light coming from the hall is trapped out. I feel the walls, closing in to hug me, just like the darkness, to hold me in its embrace. Mechanically my right hand reaches for the light switch, but I hold it. I feel it, welling up inside me, a strange feeling I haven't felt in a long long time, not since... I flick on the switch.
I wish I could say that a blast of light hit my eyes making me put up my hands like a shield. But the eyes had resigned a long time ago, hands still flinch a few times for a rescue that is never called for. What happens next is as monotonous as the soporific droning of the answering machine that tells me no one called me as I was away, thankfully. I take off my clothes and drop them on the go as switch on the TV and pull the curtains in to avoid staring into the empty windows that reflect the nothingness within. I pull the milk carton from the refrigerator, pausing briefly to breath in the stench that is nothing but a metaphor for my life mocking at me, frozen and cold and empty. I can almost hear it laugh at me as I slam the door and turn away. I head over to the washing machine to pull out one of the many wounded nightshirts and pajamas staring back at me with expectant eyes. My eyes and nose seek one... I can almost see them jumping with hands up... finally settle on the grey ones. But the moment I pull them out my nose talks my stomach into rebelling against the torture I subjected it to on the subway. I find myself in vest and boxer shorts, for the twelth day in succession. Seven more days and it will be a new record. I am about to turn when I notice...
"What is this? This is a house, not a junkyard or garage sale. When will you learn to take care of things? Why don't you keep stuff where you pick it from? Look at this mess. I am not your servant. Are you even listening to me?"
Was I? To be honest I always was, but pretended that I wasn't. Or maybe I never was, though now I can hear you. I go around gathering my clothes and shoes off the floor, shoes into the shoe cabinet, shirt into the closet and the trouser joins the nightshirts and pajamas and the bed sheets. I pick up the laptop and place it on the table. I arrange the table just as you would have if you wer... I feel it again, welling up inside me, a feeling I haven't felt for a long long time, not since... I slam the drawer and ignore the empty spot on the table where I once used to have your picture, a picture I lost a long time ago.
I go to the fridge once again and scour for something to eat. Even the stench chooses to ignore me this time and continues to snore. A fogged plastic bag catches my eye and I pull it out. Looks like some vegetable. I slam the door and head for the kitchen. I grab a knife, rip open its belly and it regurgitates its contents. Carrots.
"Yes, carrots. I know you don't like them but doctor says they are good for you… and the baby too. What? If there is no salt then add it. Listen, I've had a very hectic day and still got lots to do. So don't push me."
The carrots are ready and I pour them into the bowl. Yeah pour… added way too much water. I carry the plate and slink into the couch in front of the TV. I take a spoonful of carrots and tears come to my eyes. No, it’s not too hot or spicy. It’s just that... there is no salt. I push the tears back. They hover at the edge for a while like kids who been told to go back into their rooms, a silent protest, only to be told in strictest of tones. Only if you... I turn attention to the TV and put it on Auto Scan. Channels flip by at rate of a channel per half second. Seventy seconds later I hit the Auto Scan again, still got lots of carrot soup to finish. Three and a half Auto Scans later am done with the saltless carrot soup, eyes fixed on a rush of colors passing by, colors reflected on my face and the dour off-white wall behind me. Thirty five seconds later a blue screen stares back at me, bathing me and the room in a blue light, as if surrounded by an ocean. A faint monotonic hum resonates in my ears, within me, like waves of that ocean. In this age of technology and communication and anytime anywhere connectivity here I am, a human island. Where are you?
"Call me."
That’s all you said as I packed my bags and left you that day. My eyes were too full of my own dreams and desires to see the tears that were saying much more than what words couldn't. I feel it again, something welling up within me, rising. Finally it rises and like a mirror reflects the tears that were in your eyes that day.
I walk up to the phone and pick it up. I can hear the faint murmurs of chains breaking somewhere, iron gates crumbling, a curtain crashing. It feels as unreal as everything else, but not mechanical. I can feel something inside me; I can see it move my hand for the phone, as if seeing myself from within me. I can feel something in my chest throbbing again; I feel it now pulsating in my veins. I am walking but it doesn't feel like walking. It feels like waltzing to the ring of the phone. With every ring I can feel my hand reach out for you, a touch I been longing for. Most of all, I can feel it... life, or something like it... something I had lost touch with long time ago... rise up in a crescendo and knock at doors of my consciousness like waves crashing against a wall...
"Hello?" A voice from so far away shatters all the walls.
"Hello it’s..."
"Finally you called. Every single breath of mine has been praying to hear your voice. What took you..."
The chains shatter and curtain falls.
"I... I..."
The remnants of all chains are washed away by the waves crashing out of my eyes as words finally find me.
"Mama, I love you. I'm coming home Ma, I'm coming home."
I push the key into the lock, it fits seamlessly. I turn it. A click that echoes deep within me. Resonance of a mechanical drone that my life has become. I feel the not so distant echo of huge iron gates coming up as chains of thoughts pull up the iron curtains from the existence they hold within. I plant my first foot inside and feel it engulf me like the shadowy mist of a thousand dreams left on haunted shores of reality. I step in and close the door behind me. The chains race again as the iron curtain falls. The door closes behind me with a loud thud, an explosion of darkness as last remnant of light coming from the hall is trapped out. I feel the walls, closing in to hug me, just like the darkness, to hold me in its embrace. Mechanically my right hand reaches for the light switch, but I hold it. I feel it, welling up inside me, a strange feeling I haven't felt in a long long time, not since... I flick on the switch.
I wish I could say that a blast of light hit my eyes making me put up my hands like a shield. But the eyes had resigned a long time ago, hands still flinch a few times for a rescue that is never called for. What happens next is as monotonous as the soporific droning of the answering machine that tells me no one called me as I was away, thankfully. I take off my clothes and drop them on the go as switch on the TV and pull the curtains in to avoid staring into the empty windows that reflect the nothingness within. I pull the milk carton from the refrigerator, pausing briefly to breath in the stench that is nothing but a metaphor for my life mocking at me, frozen and cold and empty. I can almost hear it laugh at me as I slam the door and turn away. I head over to the washing machine to pull out one of the many wounded nightshirts and pajamas staring back at me with expectant eyes. My eyes and nose seek one... I can almost see them jumping with hands up... finally settle on the grey ones. But the moment I pull them out my nose talks my stomach into rebelling against the torture I subjected it to on the subway. I find myself in vest and boxer shorts, for the twelth day in succession. Seven more days and it will be a new record. I am about to turn when I notice...
"What is this? This is a house, not a junkyard or garage sale. When will you learn to take care of things? Why don't you keep stuff where you pick it from? Look at this mess. I am not your servant. Are you even listening to me?"
Was I? To be honest I always was, but pretended that I wasn't. Or maybe I never was, though now I can hear you. I go around gathering my clothes and shoes off the floor, shoes into the shoe cabinet, shirt into the closet and the trouser joins the nightshirts and pajamas and the bed sheets. I pick up the laptop and place it on the table. I arrange the table just as you would have if you wer... I feel it again, welling up inside me, a feeling I haven't felt for a long long time, not since... I slam the drawer and ignore the empty spot on the table where I once used to have your picture, a picture I lost a long time ago.
I go to the fridge once again and scour for something to eat. Even the stench chooses to ignore me this time and continues to snore. A fogged plastic bag catches my eye and I pull it out. Looks like some vegetable. I slam the door and head for the kitchen. I grab a knife, rip open its belly and it regurgitates its contents. Carrots.
"Yes, carrots. I know you don't like them but doctor says they are good for you… and the baby too. What? If there is no salt then add it. Listen, I've had a very hectic day and still got lots to do. So don't push me."
The carrots are ready and I pour them into the bowl. Yeah pour… added way too much water. I carry the plate and slink into the couch in front of the TV. I take a spoonful of carrots and tears come to my eyes. No, it’s not too hot or spicy. It’s just that... there is no salt. I push the tears back. They hover at the edge for a while like kids who been told to go back into their rooms, a silent protest, only to be told in strictest of tones. Only if you... I turn attention to the TV and put it on Auto Scan. Channels flip by at rate of a channel per half second. Seventy seconds later I hit the Auto Scan again, still got lots of carrot soup to finish. Three and a half Auto Scans later am done with the saltless carrot soup, eyes fixed on a rush of colors passing by, colors reflected on my face and the dour off-white wall behind me. Thirty five seconds later a blue screen stares back at me, bathing me and the room in a blue light, as if surrounded by an ocean. A faint monotonic hum resonates in my ears, within me, like waves of that ocean. In this age of technology and communication and anytime anywhere connectivity here I am, a human island. Where are you?
"Call me."
That’s all you said as I packed my bags and left you that day. My eyes were too full of my own dreams and desires to see the tears that were saying much more than what words couldn't. I feel it again, something welling up within me, rising. Finally it rises and like a mirror reflects the tears that were in your eyes that day.
I walk up to the phone and pick it up. I can hear the faint murmurs of chains breaking somewhere, iron gates crumbling, a curtain crashing. It feels as unreal as everything else, but not mechanical. I can feel something inside me; I can see it move my hand for the phone, as if seeing myself from within me. I can feel something in my chest throbbing again; I feel it now pulsating in my veins. I am walking but it doesn't feel like walking. It feels like waltzing to the ring of the phone. With every ring I can feel my hand reach out for you, a touch I been longing for. Most of all, I can feel it... life, or something like it... something I had lost touch with long time ago... rise up in a crescendo and knock at doors of my consciousness like waves crashing against a wall...
"Hello?" A voice from so far away shatters all the walls.
"Hello it’s..."
"Finally you called. Every single breath of mine has been praying to hear your voice. What took you..."
The chains shatter and curtain falls.
"I... I..."
The remnants of all chains are washed away by the waves crashing out of my eyes as words finally find me.
"Mama, I love you. I'm coming home Ma, I'm coming home."
[The End]
[Dedicated to my mom, whose B'day is on 20th.
Originally posted at Sulekha.com]
Originally posted at Sulekha.com]
5 comments:
first, this line was awesome!!! i don't know why i liked it above all but yea....beyond words :)
I pull the milk carton from the refrigerator, pausing briefly to breath in the stench that is nothing but a metaphor for my life mocking at me, frozen and cold and empty.
secondly , sounds a little biographical ya kno :)
thirdly,these are lines from my poem "A song for life". wrote it long time back in 9th std.
That’s ma’s melody, the supreme ecstasy for me.
For years I was awakened by the familiar ditty, as the sun arose with glee.
Now I seek her song amidst the mountains and rains,
Green halls and falls,
I long to be roused by her soothing voice.
Resigning from my humdrum to toddle into her loving arms is my only choice.
Back to peace of mind,
Leavin’ all the hollow grandeur behind
fourthly,
*applause* you have done it again!
:D
Pakhi
thanks for sharing that beautiful poem (: and its biographical in way all my stories are, fiction woven around real emotions and feelings... was inspired by buntydi's post and feelings it evoked... if you read hers you will see I've used the decriptions that she did.
and thanks again (: keep flying.
Missing her? ask her to come back and make your den a home..;)
I remember the lip smacking stuff she had sent for you made from pure ghee..we liked it so much we left very little for you! All i mean is if she is back do lemme know (:
well, she *IS* coming in April/May and there will be lots of Punjeeri [thats what it was called] to eat when she does (:
well after seeing "*IS*" i reread my own comment..it shud have been "lemme know when she is back"...anyways thanks for the info (:
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