42 Quirks

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The story until now…A simple whine resulted in introspection. She was forced to think about things in a totally different light. As she encountered newer situations, she began to realize that the simplicity of life was not as simlple as she wanted it to be. The light began to dawn on her, even as it began to get darker…

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They came to another section in the park – the Kids’ Section. He stopped there momentarily. He turned to look at her. She said nothing. Apparently, she had not yet recovered from the previous shock. He turned to look at the park. Kids of various ages were playing on the different amusements the park had to offer. The see-saw, the slide, the merry-go-round and the swing; all of them were occupied.A young boy, aged not more than seven, sat on a bench near one of the swings. He watched the swings go to and fro and laughed in glee, clapping his hands every now and then. It looked like he was egging his brother on, who had occupied the swing.

“Why don’t you make that boy try the swings?”

“But he can’t see me!”

“Do you really think so?”

She knew better now than to ask any question. She silently went up to the boy and sat beside him.

The boy had a sunny disposition that could make anyone smile. And she was not an exception. She felt the warmth of his smile and instantly returned it. The boy returned back to egging his brother on.

She made an attempt to strike up a conversation.

“Hi.”

The boy looked at her, unsure of whether to reply. Eventually he did.

“Hi.”

“Why don’t you have a go on the swings?”

“I can’t?”

“Why? Why can’t you?”

“Oh it’s too much trouble getting me on the swing and then getting me off it. I wouldn’t want to spoil the fun. I am better off watching them.”

“Why is that? I don’t think you’re too short. You can easily reach the swing.”

“Oh I am tall enough, alright. But that’s not the reason. It’s this.” He smiled and pointed towards his legs.

She took one look at his legs and realized what she’d just done.

“I am sorry” was all she could manage and she almost ran back to where he was standing.

He said nothing for sometime. They came back to the bench on which she was sitting before and sat once again. It was to be sometime before he spoke in a clear, calm voice.

“Now, do you understand?”

“Yes, I do. And I am sorry. It won’t happen again.”

He smiled at her and she returned it. She stood up and spread her wings. With one smooth push of her feet she was away soaring high, into the sky.

Gabriel looked at the diminishing figure in the sky and sighed.

Well, there had to be one in every lot.

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The story until now…She was sitting in the park unhappy and tearful, blaming him for not understanding her plight. He understood that he had to provide her with some answers…
The first two responses she received left her stunned, yet contemplative. Surely, this was not the way she was expecting her question to be answered. But they are answers nevertheless, and she must find the meaning. Soon…

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(contd. from The Park – Part 2)They kept walking until they reached the Fountain. People of various ages were sitting with their feet immersed in the clear, cold, blue water of the pool beside the fountain. He turned to her and asked.“What do you hear?”

She replied hesitantly, “I hear the sound of gushing water. The most beautiful music that He could ever create.”

He smiled and turned to look at the people. Without looking at her, he asked again, “No really, what do you hear?”

The sounds of the world diminished to nothing and a new babble of voices broke out, rising in its pitch slowly until she could take it no more. She clamped her hands over her ears to stop the sound from blowing her eardrums. He laughed at this and said, “You can take your hands off now. It’s okay.”

She cautiously removed her hands and was relieved to find that the voices had died down to a murmur. “Now tell me what you hear,” he asked again.

She strained her ears to make sense out of the large plethora of voices that was the crowd. She shut her eyes tight hoping against hope that it would help somehow. And slowly the voices began to make sense.

‘I wish I could enjoy this peace everyday…’

‘I wish he would understand…’

‘I love my husband.’

‘I love her husband.’

‘My baby…’

‘Why can’t work ever be so relaxing?’

‘Man, she looks amazing!!’

‘What does she think of herself?’

‘Why did you have to leave me?’

‘How long is this pain going to last? I wish it would be over once and for all…’

This last statement particularly caught her attention and she started to search for its owner. She scanned the faces in the crowd hoping to find a clue.

She found a face contorted with pain and immediately moved towards him. As she drew closer she could hear him swearing. No, it wasn’t him. She looked around again. Every time she thought she had found the source of the pain, she realized that it was someone else.

She finally gave up and returned to him looking defeated. He asked her, “Would you like to see the person who said those words?”

She was surprised he could do that. But then again she knew he would do that. She meekly nodded in the affirmative. He began to walk and she followed.

He stopped in front of a clown. The clown had gathered a crowd and was entertaining it. Sure enough, she had overlooked this portion of the crowd. After all, there was no pain here, only joy. But as they drew nearer to the crowd she heard the voice grow stronger. She frantically scanned the faces in the crowd. That was when she felt a tap on her shoulder. He pointed a finger to indicate the direction of the source of the voice.

She followed his finger and her eyes came to rest on the one person she had never imagined to be the source – the clown himself. She stood with her mouth agape not wanting to believe, yet the evidence forcing her to do exactly that.

“He was diagnosed with a fatal disease last week. The doctors have given him a month. And he’s decided to make the most of it.”

With that, he walked away, leaving her to contemplate. She stared at the clown, wondering whether he could see her. He remained blissfully unaware of her presence and continued to entertain the crowd. She walked back silently to where he was standing. And they moved on.

(To be continued…)

Tags: park, story, emotions, BornStinger, conversations, pain, clown

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The story until now…The Park sees many people come and go. So do we.
A girl is sitting on the park bench. She feels the world has been unfair to her. And she’s complaining. But who is going to listen? The one person she expects will listen, is not in the mood to listen. Or…?

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(contd. from The Park – Part 1)Nobody said a word for sometime. She was still letting her tears get the better of her self-control and he was letting his self-control get the better of him. Maintaining the stoic face, he walked for a couple of minutes until they reached the Couples’ Corner of the park. He stopped and turned to face her.“What do you see?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“No. Seriously, tell me, what do you see?”

“I see people. In love. Sitting beside their beloved. Knowing that they will be together for eternity.”

“How many of them will really be together for eternity?”

“I don’t know.”

He smiled. He pointed out to a couple sitting across the park. The wife (presumably) was happily knitting away for a near-future arrival (presumably). The husband was watching her intently, with a look that was somewhere between admiration and awe.

“Only they will be together for all eternity.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s my job to know.”

“But they are not even talking to each other!”

“Someday, when you are old enough and wise enough, you’ll understand that communication does not need words. Tell me what do you read in his eyes?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see them from this far.”

“Then go near him and read his eyes. Go now.”

“But what if he sees me? What am I going to say to him?”

“Go now.”

She hesitated for a split second and started to move towards them. Thoughts had begun to flood her mind. Was he testing her? Or was it all a joke? Was he serious? What if the husband caught her looking at them? What would he think? Would he question her? More importantly, what was she going to tell him?

As she approached closer she could feel her tension rise. But he made no apparent move to acknowledge her in any manner – hostile or other wise. Somewhat puzzled and somewhat relaxed she decided to push further, until she was virtually sitting beside him.

She could hear the faint strains of humming. She looked around and found her; humming away as she wove the woolen strands into a concrete shape, thread by thread, knot by knot. For a moment she forgot what she was supposed to do and listened deeply to her humming. Then she remembered why she was there, and she turned to look at him.

He was now leaning back with his eyes closed and his hands behind his head. She waited for a few moments hoping he would open his eyes, so she could read them. But he did none of that. A few moments later, he opened his eyes and moved over to where his wife was sitting and put his head in her lap and closed his eyes again.

Those few moments were all she was waiting for. And what she saw chilled her to the very core.

He was blind. He had only the whites of his pupils where his eyes would have been.

She hurried back to him. He looked at her. She was shivering like an autumn leaf. He said nothing, but smiled. And he walked on.

(To be continued…)

She sat morosely on the park bench unaware of her surroundings. She did not notice him coming. Not that she would have noticed it any other day.

He came and sat besides her making no sound or attempt to announce his presence.

After what seemed like an eternity (but was actually a few minutes) she saw him. But even then, she made no attempt to acknowledge it. She just sat there teetering on the verge of bursting into tears.

Finally, she looked at him and asked the question she already knew the answer to.

“Why are you here?”

He looked straight into her eyes. She made no attempt to look away. Rather she continued looking into his hazel eyes. Unable to take it anymore, he looked away and spoke.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“What difference would it make to you?”

He was surprised, rather shocked, at this accusation. He had half a mind to leave but he restrained himself. This had been a long time coming. He had known it was coming. He said with all the calm he could muster.

“It would, wouldn’t it? Or else, I wouldn’t be here.”

The sarcasm in his voice wasn’t lost on her. She opened her mouth to deliver a repartee that would shut him up and closed it instantly. That was the last thing she wanted. Today she wanted him to talk. And talk he did.

“It isn’t that bad, you know. Things could have been worse.”

“Oh, really?? You keep saying that all the time? What do you know?”

“You could take things positively. Really, it could have been worse.”

“Oh, yeah? And what do you know, what’s been happening with me? Or is it one of your standard lines that you throw at damsels-in-distress?

“Why don’t you tell me what’s troubling you?”

“Why? So that you can throw me more of those standard lines? I thought you’d have known by now…”

“I can’t read minds, you know.”

The tears she’d been holding back welled up in her pretty brown eyes and clouded them. There was no use fighting them back now. And she started to cry.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen a woman cry. Nevertheless, he was flustered. He wondered if he should reach out and comfort her. Or if he should stand back stoically and wait for the flow to ebb. Before he could transform his thought into actions, he heard words between sobs.

“Why? Why does it have to be me?”

He knew it was better not to answer that question. There was no answer to it, really. He waited for a few moments trying to decide the best course of action (or inaction, rather) But he was saved the trouble of having to make a choice, because she continued.

“I am not asking for much, am I? Tell me, is it really that difficult?”

There was no escape now. Although, he knew better than to answer the question he had no choice now. Still, there had to be some way out.

“Did someone insult you?”

“No.”

“Did someone tease you or taunt you?”

“No.”

“Did someone -”

That was as far as he got.

“Shut up, will you? I am not asking for an analysis of my mental state here. I am not asking you to counsel me. Nor am I asking you to cajole me. All I am asking is an answer to a simple question. Why is appreciation so difficult?”

He looked at her. Her big, pretty brown eyes were now red due to all the sobbing. And the decision was made.

“Come. Let’s take a walk.” And he stood up and started walking.

(To be continued…)

It had been a tiring day. But we had to meet. After all, a promise is a promise is a promise!

I headed off to our usual spot. It was, probably, one of the few times in my life that I had been on time.

I took my favorite chair with my back towards the window and ordered a shot of black. The anticipation of seeing joy on her face mixed with the satisfaction of having arrived early was sending tingling sensations through my entire being.

The coffee arrived. Usually, I see her and the coffee together. But that’s because I am late. Not this time. So it had to be different. Hmmm… revenge eh? Ok, I was game. I would play the cool customer.

Three coffees and two cigarettes. That’s exactly how long my resolution lasted. I decided to call for the bill. As I turned to gesture to the waiter, the door opened and in she walked.

She was wearing a pair of jeans I had gifted her on her B’day. The top seemed fairly new…

She came in and dropped all her paraphernelia in the opposite seat and sat beside me. As if on cue, the waiter arrived with two coffees instead of one.

All this while, not a word was exchanged between us. I assumed it was because our relationship was beyond words. Apparently, (as I was to learn shortly,) she did not think so.

We both picked up our coffees at the same moment and took our first sips. The synchronization in our movements would have put the best of Russian ballet dancers to shame. And it was then, that my sixth sense started to signal that something wasn’t right.

Whether it was the connection, or whether it was a woman’s intuition I still don’t know, but she sensed it too. I decided to test the waters a little further and opened my cigarette case. I casually proceeded to light one.

She did not oppose. So this WAS it.

I simply asked her, “Since when?”

She stared at me. But we had spent so much of time together that she knew what I was asking about.

“Since quite some time.”
“Any particular person to blame?”

She looked puzzled. Obviously, I had to be more specific.

“Did I say, act, whatever… do something?”
“Uh… I don’t know.”
“Don’t know? Are you sure?”
“I just DON”T know!!”
“Ok. Relax.”

One part of me was telling me to slap her hard and get those silly thoughts out of her. And the other part (obviously, the more ethical, emotional,etc. one) wanted to give her whatever she wanted. Love…

“Do you want to say it out specifically?” – Me.
“Say what?”
“All those lines you have been rehearsing since morning…”

Those words must have hurt, since (I think) I detected a few drops of you-know-what in her eyes. But she had come prepared for that too.

“Why do you want me to say it if you already know what I am gonna say?”

I did not reply to that. I just took a sip of my coffee and for the first time that evening looked straight in her eyes.

They told me the story I already knew. The moat was up and the fortress had been securely buttressed. Neither besieging nor beseeching would work.

“Why now?”
“Because, later would mean a lot of trouble. And pain”

Even now means a lot of trouble. And a whole lot of pain. Wish you would understand that.

“Ok. Anything you want me to do?” – Me.
“Nope.” – Her.
“Sure?”
“Yes.”
“Can I have the ring back?”
Pause.
“I said, can I have the ring back?”

Without a word, she slipped the ring off her finger and gave it to me. I took it and threw it away as far as I could. Everybody in the cafe turned to stare at me. But, by then, I did not give a damn. I retuned everybody’s what-the-f**k-is-happening-stare with a mind-your-own-f**kin-business-glare. That seemed to do the trick.

“Can I ask you something?” – Me.
No answer.
“Ok. I’ll take that as a yes. What have I done to deserve this?” There was a hint of sarcasm in my voice. But, no anger yet.
No answer yet.
“Answer me.” – Okay, so a little anger here. She looked away. So the you-know-what had finally broken the barriers…

“I must be going now. They are waiting for me. I have told them I will be returning early.”

She got up to leave.

“Can I ask you for one last favor before you… leave?” It sounded pretty close to begging. And I thought my voice cracked.
“What?” She said, with, apparently, some difficulty.
“Can you just say it out in clear precise words what you wanted?”
“Why? What difference does it make now?”
“So that your rehearsal does not go waste.”

She stood there, stunned. The show had turned into a free-for-all. And then she said the fateful words, that I wanted to hear and yet did not want to hear:

“I need some space. I don’t think we can be together any longer. You still don’t have a proper job and you are not ashamed of living off my money. Frankly, I think this is not working out at all.”

The tears in her eyes only made it all the more real. And then she stepped out of the cafe.

I settled the bill, picked up my appointment letter and the keys to the company-allocated flat.

The keys to my new bike were still gift-wrapped in lace-ribbon.

End note:
The next stop was, obviously, Apache – the Fluid Lounge. Three pitchers of beer and a couple of shots later, I passed out.

Its strange how spaces began to seem void-like after this incident. The admiration for my new bike would have lasted for days or weeks. It died out the very next day. My company flat would have seemed spacious. Now it seemed empty. I have gotten over it now. Or, at least, I think I have.

Can one person make so much of a difference?

She called me last night.

I had absolutely no idea she would. Even the faintest inkling of it and I would have run away (as is my wont). Yeah, I am a true coward…

I was chatting with my friends over inconsequential topics like the global warming and such. Out of the blue, my phone rang. For the first time, since buying that phone, my hair stood on end (Yes.) The gears in my brain started to spin even before I had seen the number flashing on my display.

And when I did see the number, I did not react. Rather, I could not react… I did the next best thing. I answered the call as calmly as I could.

“Hello.” – Me
“Hi.” – Her
“Hi.” – Me, again.

A long pause. Discomfort.

“So what’s up?” I asked
“Nothing much.”

Another pause. More discomfort.

“How are you?” she asked.
“Good. Pretty good, I guess,” I answered.

A blatant lie.

“Great… great…”
“And, how are you?”
“Good. Pretty good, I guess.”
“Uhh, great to know that,” I replied.

Definitely a lie.

“I wanted to tell you something,” she said.

Okay, now we’re getting somewhere…

“Yeah, me too.”
“You first.”
“Nope. YOU first.”

A pause. And then -

“Okay, I’ll go first. There’s no use arguing with you anyway. You always win.”
“Thanks for the compliment.”
“I found… someone.”

The next part of the conversation is reconstructed out of fragments of information that managed to pass through the blinding pain and the flashes of light that I saw when my brain exploded. It felt like someone had squeezed my heart to 1/10th of its size and was trying hard to squeeze it even further.

“Uhh, well, good for you. Congrats.”
“Thanx.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s got a well-paid job with an MNC. And a nice house in the suburbs. His own.”
“Great… great…”

It wasn’t great at all.

“So when’s the wedding?”

Here, I must mention that I tried to bring some mischief in my voice, as was required by the question. And I failed miserably.

“Not yet. We haven’t told our parents. But we plan to do it soon. A few weeks, a month, maybe.”
“Good… good… good for you…”
“Thanx. You know something?
“What?”
“I think he’s the perfect match for me.”

Yeah, sure. A flat of his own and a plum job with an MNC. Who wouldn’t be?

“Great to know that.” The competitive streak coupled with the anger and jealousy began to flare up. “So, how come I get the pleasure of talking to you today?”

“Uhh, well, it’s like… I mean…”
“Go ahead, you don’t have to be so formal.”
“Ummm, well, We are planning to marry in the court if our parents oppose. Would you be our witness signatory?”

Yeah, right. In your dreams. If your parents do agree, you’ll be calling me as your best-man next. What do you think I am, some kind of a television? Surf when you want and switch off when you don’t? I will not stand for this kind of a mockery of my life…

“Sure! Tell me when and tell me where, I’ll be there.”
“Thanx! I knew I could count on you… You are a real pal.”

Pal. Nice word. Some day I wanna meet the guy who coined this word, so that I could slit his throat and wring his brains for coining the f**king word. Thanks to you buddy, I now have to attend my ex-fiancee’s wedding. And I am not the groom… Thanx a lot, pal!!

“You go now.”
“Go where?”
“I mean, you tell me what you wanted to tell me.”
“Oh, that! Forget it. It’s nothing.”
“No, no, you have to tell me now. We are friends now, right?”

Yeah, right.

“No nothing, just forget it.”
“Ok… but I would have loved to hear what that was.”

Yeah, right. You would.

“Never mind… never mind…”
“Okay, forget it then. Let’s talk something else…”
“Yep. Sure.” Only too glad to do so…

Pause.

“So, how is she?”

Of all the topics in the world, she had to pick that one… Women…

“I don’t know.”

A confused pause.

“You broke up? I am so sorry I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay. You couldn’t have known. And anyway, the person who fell in love with her was a really persuasive fella. She had no chance but to give in… I do miss her though, I will admit.”
“You didn’t try to stop her? Why?”
“I couldn’t. She couldn’t.”
“Her parents?”
“Nah. They were mere by-standers too.”
“Okay, may I ask what happened?”
“Yeah, she died.”

This is not a lie. Okay, it’s not the truth either. Sort of a half-truth, I admit. But a half-truth atleast.

“WHAT?”

She almost screamed into the phone. I knew she would do that. She always did that. One of the things that had attracted me to her in the first place.

“Yeah.” I said simply. Out of habit, may be.
“But… but… how… I mean, when… oh shit!! I am so sorry, I had no idea…”
“Hey relax! Like I said, you couldn’t have known. So, chill…”

A pause. A deep breath.

“Okay, let’s change the topic. This has freaked me out…” – She
“Okay.” – Me.
“I heard you got a job.”
“Yeah.”
“Like it?”
“I would be lying if I denied it.”
“You have changed.”
“I have, haven’t I?”

The rest of the conversation was spent in catching up on old things. It lasted for about fifteen seconds after which, the call got ‘accidentally disconnected.’ I switched off my phone soon after, and headed straight to the first cigarette stall I could find.

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A filmi twist, I later dreamt of, (I am not kidding about this. I did dream this part.) that night.

I was smoking my nth cigarette. The stalll-owner had made a few feeble attempts at starting a conversation, but he soon noticed that I was not quite in a mood to continue it. So he left it at that.

As I finished puffing away on my nth cigarette, I heard a voice, a familiar voice:

“That’s it, that is the last one. You have already exceeded your limit.”

It was her. It had been a prank all along. She was testing my patience or love or some such thing that women keep testing us men all the time. Needless to say, I had passed the test in flying colors. She was mine for all eternity.

Alas, it was only a dream!
———-

Disclaimer: This is a true story. I have never yet mentioned which of my stories are true and which ones are fiction. But, for some strange reason, I felt like revealing this secret here. Hope I haven’t bored you too much. Sorry, if I did.