Pain

Night came slowly, so did the pain. First came denial, but the fight was lost and the pain overtook the mind and paralyzed the body.

 The pain began as a small seed, deep in the middle of the chest and spread like branches, immobilizing everything it touched.

  First it spread all over the chest, constricted the breathing, I gasped for breath. Then it spread downward to the stomach, it pressed down hard, causing a deep ache. It spread to the throat, it burned deeply.

 It was like a large stone bore down on me, pressing down on my lungs, my stomach. I was unable to bear the weight of this gigantic stone.

 I writhed and stretched in pain, it only got worse.

 ‘I can’t take it, it’s hurting too much, I want to die.’

 ‘It hurts too much, I can’t breathe.’

 The pain overtook the limbs and I lay still, speechless and eyes out of focus. Inside my head I was screaming and thrashing. I was begging for death, pleading for mercy.

 The night seemed to stretch endlessly and the pain…the pain was unbelievable, excruciating.  I lay motionless, suffering, unable to even close my eyes, tears wetting my face; as pain tore deeper and deeper into my body.

  A loving hand gently caressed my hair; slowly the hand came down to my face and wiped away the tears. For the first time, my eyes closed and the tension on my face released. I let out a heavy breath.

 The hand gently took my hands and I slowly managed to turn my head and I saw the most beautiful face. The face flooded my body with strange relief. I could breathe again, with difficulty but I could.

 Tears flooded my eyes as I silently complained about my pain. The eyes on that face, the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, the eyes that make me weak in the knees, the eyes that brought gushes of emotions through me…they seemed to understand my plight.

 I looked helplessly into those eyes. Those caressing hands gathered my torn body and cradled it to a strong chest; soft, smooth and warm.

 The pain dulled, became bearable, very much bearable. The touch of that chest was tranquilizing. When I closed my eyes, my head blanked out and I felt weary and tired. I sank into a state of painless oblivion; a trance; a state of emptiness.

 I sank deep…deep into a warm, comfortable, subconscious.

Escape

  They were everywhere.  Fear had taken over me. Sweat poured in channels all over me. The sound of their words, thoughts were overwhelming. I couldn’t take it anymore. I shut my eyes and ears and ran, just ran, as fast as I could, as far as I could.

  When I was sure that no sound remained, I stopped. Relief swept over my body, I gasped for breath and slowly opened my eyes. Horror struck me, there they were. Silent as death, faces blurred, watching me with cold, blank eyes. I felt my breath leave my body.  I mustered up enough strength again and ran.

  Up ahead I saw an enclosure. I scrambled into it and finally breathed a sigh of relief. I couldn’t see all those apparitions smiling a triumphant smile.

  Alone…I was alone. Finally, that’s what I had wanted…right?

  Now I walk too fast sometimes,

  Sometimes I laugh too loudly,

  I turn up the music volume to a deafening level…just to shut myself out.

  I want to hurt myself

  The burning feeling of pain, I want it…just to distract myself.

  I want to wake up suddenly, in a new place…just to feel fear.

  I struggle every moment, all the time,

  Closed spaces scare me, so do wide open spaces,

  Now there is no escape, I know it…after all how can I escape from myself?

Chotto Bou

  The old house-maids melodramatic wailing could be heard all the way from the road. "Haye haye, meyetake keno nie nilli thakur?", she cried, God, why did you take this girl's life? 

  The old car screeched to a halt in a cloud of exhaust fumes, just in front of the house. Nirmal Babu descended, ashen faced, from the car. He gathered up his dhoti and walked steadily into the house. He had heard the news this morning; it had shocked him to his very core.

  The servants of the house led him to the kitchen. He froze, just in front of the door. 

 Their she lay; Chotto Bou, in her best sari, adorned in her best jewelery, only dead. The old maid wailing away...Nirmal took a few paces forward and fell to his knees.

  It had been precisely two months and twenty two days since their marriage. 

  He recalled the moment she looked up at him, she loved him too much. It was the happiest day for them. That was the day he had stroked her face and called her Chotto Bou. She had melted with joy. 

  Nirmal too fell in love with Chotto Bou but he always felt, she loved him too much. 

  He noticed, she had funny ways. She loved to play with dolls, so he bought her some baby dolls that she played with all the time. She named them, sang to them, put them to sleep, woke them up every morning. Nirmal had to play along and pretend they were their own children. 

  He was taken by her innocence. She would stare at his face, her eyes full of admirations. It made him feel special. She would look forward to his company and would grow sad when he had to leave for work. He would distract her with her dolls and promise her to return soon. They spent many a happy hours.

  Then a peculiar change came upon her. She grew depressed and needy. She wanted his company all the time. She would refuse to let him go. Sometimes she would grow violent when he had to leave. Tears filled her days with sorrow, melancholy hovered around her.

  "You have changed", commented Nirmal, trying to mask his irritation. 

  She would listen in silence and nothing would change. 

  One morning, she wouldn't let go of him. He pushed her away and said, "I cannot give you so much time. I'm trying to accommodate you far as possible, nothing is enough for you. Please don't stretch me any further, I have other things to do."

  She listened quietly, her face clearly showing that she was hurt and, she let go. 

  That evening Nirmal was working in the room downstairs and she came and stood by the door. Nirmal looked up, irritated and asked her what she wanted.

  "Amar kosto hochhe", she said, "I'm in pain".

  "Where is it paining?"

  "Inside".

  "I can't do anything to help you, you are not letting me work."

  He began to ignore her, he stopped coming home. One night she called at the office. "Please come home, I'm missing you, I'm feeling really sad".

  Nirmal replied, "I can't come now, I'll try in the morning."

  "Please, I beg you just for a minute, come home. I want to see you."

  "Its not possible now, please let me go."

  "Listen to me just once."

  "Tell me quickly."

  "Please just come home, I wont be sad anymore."

  "I'm telling you its not possible."

  Her voice broke into a sob."I'm requesting you, please."

  "Even I'm requesting you. If you don't keep my request, why should I keep yours?"

  "Listen, listen..."

  Nirmal had disconnected the phone. 

  That night Nirmal's Chotto Bou dressed in her best sari, wore her finest jewelery and imagined that she was on Nirmals lap. He was stroking her and calling her Chotto Bou. Tears were rolling down her eyes and he was sweetly wiping them away. She closed her eyes and felt at peace. She felt unexplainably  happy, these were tears of joy she thought. 

  When she opened her eyes, she saw Nirmal by the door, calling to her, "Chotto Bou, esho..,come." She followed blindly. She was lead into the kitchen. She smiled at him through her tears as he handed her a knife and smiled back. 

 

  In the morning the servants found her in a pool of blood. They called Nirmal at the office.

  "Abar? Again you called?"

  "Babu...", he heard the news.

  He froze. 

  He knelt beside her, trembling at the sight of the peace on her tortured face.

  

I See

What do I see?

I see people, lots and lots of people walking down the road. 

Sometimes I wonder,

If I could hear what all of them were thinking,

What a din it would be.

So confusing, so random.

I see little children,

In their own world,

Unaware of evil,

What if I were like them?

Would it change the person I am?

I see pretty things in pretty shops,

They will soon be replaced by other pretty things,

Why? Do the former cease to be pretty?

I see and I wonder,

What if this were all a dream?

What if I wake up one day,

And realize, everything is different?

I see and I wonder,

I am so big to an ant,

And so small to the universe.

I am too small to even consider.

What am I?

What is this I see?

Who is playing this game?

Am I the player or am I a game piece?

Something tells me,

The player is Time.

Dreaded Time!

If God is so good, 

Why has he captured us in this web of Time?

Why are we forced to surrender to Time?

I wonder, did the devil create Time?

Is God fighting against it too?

Is He caught in this web too?

I am alone?

Aren't I?

Aren't I...?

We can't conquer Time,

Can we?

Play

Nandini, come to me. Why are staying away? My heart cries for you. I yearn for you in my arms. ..

Yashoda just couldn't run anymore. After all, she had noticed a few grey hairs the other day. Krishna's games were taking a toll on her.

"Krishna, please come out wherever you are. I'm exhausted", she cried in exasperation.

There was no sound, no stir in the leaves, no sound of little bells, no peals of laughter. Yashoda slumped down under a tree to catch her breath. Her chest heaved as she closed her eyes and rested her head on the trunk of the huge banyan tree.

That morning Yashoda  had come home from the Yamuna Ghats and seen little Krishna playing in the dirt. He had smiled up at her mischievously and held out a filthy, tiny hand for her to hold.
         Yashoda had picked up the little boy and dragged off his reluctant little frame to the bath. Little Krishna kicked and writhed as the determined Yashoda scrubbed the dirt off his body. At last when Krishna looked up innocently at her from within the wraps of a towel, her heart melted.
          Krishna's smile was magic! He kept Yashoda under his spell till he was fully dressed and covered in ornaments. It was time for the final touch, a line of dark kajal to border his eyes. It was then that he fled, disappearing outside the door in a peal of laughter a tinkle of bells.
          Yashoda's spell broke that instant and...she sighed. Looking up at the sun overhead, it was noon. Where would she look now? She had asked the ladies in the neighborhood. They had only laughed at her plight.She had even gone to the fields to ask the cowherds. All she received was a splitting headache from the hot sun.
          She dragged herself off the ground and wearily looked around. Wait till he returns, she thought, I will punish him; no kheer for days. Slowly the thought crept into her head, the poor little boy hadn't eaten since morning. He must be hungry. Suddenly she felt a deep yearning for him, she wanted to see him, she wanted to hold him, seat him on her lap and feed him his favorite kheer.
           Fear filled her heart, was he alright? Had he lost his way? Had he fallen into a ditch or...Yashoda shuddered...swept away by the current of the river. Oh Krishna!, she thought, where are you?
           Defeated, she dragged her feet back to the banyan tree. She rested her back against the tree and closed her eyes.
           The still air stirred for a moment, a light and sweet sound of bells rang, barely audible. Yashoda's eyes flew open. Had she imagined it? No, there it was again, this time louder.
           Filled with renewed energy, she ran, her heart beating out of her chest. "Krishna, Krishna".
           As she swung around the trunk of the great old banyan tree relief swept over her, thank you dear God! There lay baby Krishna asleep, kicking restlessly, the bells on his feet emitting a sound that could charm the Gods.
           Yashoda stood mesmerized for a moment before picking him up in her arms. His restlessness was gone and he snuggled close to her, grabbing a fistful of her sari. She walked quietly back home, Krishna sleeping in heavenly peace in her arms.

          Nandini, give me a sign...where are you?