Saturday, March 16, 2013

YARNS OF LAMA-6



                                      

                                           PAL


            Bye dad….. “                                                                 

 She kept waving off until her father went out of view. A common  end to her weekend .Each time she got rucksacked back to college, a tint of sadness persist amongst joys of the age. Two days of weekend was feasted with delicious foods, a debonair picnic and movie-going with the whole family..; all that would compensate another bust 24*5 in her professional college. She took her mobile and texted her boyfriend ;

          “ [ I’m returning . . ] “ before getting  staccated.

She preferred buses rather than trains to shuttle in the weekends. For the three and a half hour journey, approximately equal in both mediums of transport modes, the entourage presumed is much better  in the former. Though her journeys confronted the nights, there would be families , well dressed old people and a vigilant conductor; something that went amiss in trains. Being the elder in her clan she was bold, independent; all the crucial situations in life till the date, waited her for the last word. Her Dad hated others infringing those cliché notions of ‘Girls and rules’. He brought her up as his child, not as his daughter.. ; &  he never regretted that.

            Dad’s own tomboy   her mother knocked them both …




She immersed her feet into the sand, slowly uprooting them with the fingers. He couldn’t stop admiring her serene smile that bloomed like a daffodil bud in the evening Sun. He wanted to talk many things and she, get heard . . . .  but silence smothered their heart with eterne love.
            She saw a mollusk, half hidden in the wet sand just in front of them. Locking their eyes in conformance, he undusted his butts and leaped front; but the fiddling sea flutters took it a little aback. She smirked at his failed attempt, prodding with feminine jive. A brumous figure virtually poked at the corner of her eye, menacing the beautiful milieu. A foreboding alarm screeched in her mazard. The figure seemed credulously familiar; approaching close at faster pace. Raising heart-beat moted her breath. Grabbing the mollusk, with a happy visage he returned and kissed her, but her eyes still staggered on that ogre.

A kind of nausea seeped into her senses. Everything happened in a trice. She felt numbed; the sea waves elevating their demesne , sands dancing in a vortex, by-passes distancing themselves secluding her with him. The apparition was too close now; still unbeknownst, unrecognized. She held him tight. At once, it came and held her on the shoulders. . .

          “ Dad  ??????? …… “ ………………….                      ……………..                ……….
  ……………. ……………………….           . . . . .. . . . . . . .
                     ……………………………………………..                                  …………





With a scrambling noise, the bus vibrated to and fro, finally pulling to a stop. The inertial tug took her out of the dream; holding herself onto the pedestal across the seat. Her sweaty eyes perceived an obsolete boonducks through the window. The bus was motionless  and the passengers, few in number were frantically talking with the escort.
. . . . . . . .  Engine break-down…..  that  too in the middle of nowhere. . .

Declining the inherent trance hazed with salt water and white sands, she took her baggage and got down the bus . . . . . . . . . . .
     …….       ……….   ……………………………….. . . . . . ..


The escort refunded her. It was 1:30 am and in no way she could recollect such a place, en route, in three years of shuttle. And slant turnover in the bedlam made her feel numbed . . . . ..  ;  the next ‘ horseless carriage’ of Kerala Government would reach only at 4:30 am . . . .

‘Three hours..    ??? ‘

The bus bay had only few buildings accorded to it, and only one of them was open. The shopkeeper stood at the doors, surveying if he might get some end business. In total there were 13 passengers, cast away. The only other female in her entourage; an elderly woman abetting her husband and ‘nubile’ son, stared her with an evident distaste. Her son was shouting on the phone, probably asking one of his friends to come for rescue. Latha      ; ( Yup , as you guessed !!!!, the protagonist ) ; moved to the trio and asked the woman if she could come with them to a better, reliable place. The woman squinted her son, who gave multiple shots at the girl near his Mom between his call.

          “ Actually we are going to our kin’s. There won’t be room for you in the car. And we are a hell of tired; gotta get into a shelter ASAP. It’s only three hours to the next- “

          “ It’s okay. . . sorry for bothering you . . . . “

‘Some ladies care men more.., ‘  she thought.

She took her cell to call her dad..

          “Damn these Godforsaken gushers..”,
She was totally pi**ed at the farce. No bars were dark atop her phone-screen.

The storekeeper started closing the shop; his last hopes of mercantile from those ‘trespassers’ had dwindled to a dot. Apart from the CFL light outside the store, a scintillating street lamp embedded light across the locale , She, looking at its flickers….

          “ What’ is this place ?? “ , she darted to the shopkeeper dangling her cell. He switched on the light again. For a moment he scrutinized her face; as if quenching an acknowledgement he asked
          “ What do you mean, Lady   ?? “

          “ The name of this damn place . . . . .Does it have a name after all ??? .. “.
He grunted  in dismay and shut the lights .
What a beautiful  day  ! ?  ! ‘    , she got it all wrong  . . .. from  the virtual reality to the apparentness.

A native rubberneck; a co-passenger from the diseased bus came to her.

           “ Are you alone ? .. “.

She gave a lancing stare. He wasn’t shabby, nor having a balmy stature like those rookies of pranks. The round eyes shot concern; a social brother’s compassionate interlope for the well being  of a social sister. Her helplessness perturbed the decision to vote or veto. She nodded reluctantly.

          “ Even my phone  doesn’t have bars. I’ve arranged an auto-rickshaw ; a 5-km from here is a good town with lodging facility.., the driver said so . . I ain’t well  versed with this place. If you don’t mind, we’ll share the rickshaw to the town. “

She felt a deep relief. A helping hand at such an imbroglio. But a slight feminine incredulity scratched her bean.

          “ Where is the rickshaw ? “.

          “Over there ,“ . . .  he pointed to a corner; the driver smoked near the vehicle.

The bus denizens had already spread to different corners. She gave an amicably sympathetic glance for the last time at her female entourage; when they glued their butts in their kin’s car.. , but she remained castaway. Bus driver and the escort had also left to unknown locales . .
The lone dweller and assignee of this village; the storekeeper shuttered his shop, ending the final crescents of a viable shelter for her. . . Only solution ; the Hobson’s choice left to her was this bald-faced matured man, waiting a ‘Yes’ to load her rucksack into the rickshaw.

She moved towards the rickshaw taking her bag. The lukewarm drivr was suddenly filliped ; stabbing the stub, he got into the driver’s seat. Her ‘rescuer’ cued two other entourages, who were standing near the bus, a bit covertly, and they joined them towards their rickshaw. This  anchored her to a hault.

         “ Are they coming with us ?? “

         “ Yes . . . . Like you, they are also alone. .  I guess they won’t  get any means to move other than waiting 3 hours “.

‘ Oh God . . . ! Please help me . . ‘

Cobwebs of skepticism scudded her body in tangled fashion. Her bold voice, quick decisive enthusiasm, steadfast cogitation . . .all had failed to process in time and effect. She prayed hard to get bars on the phone, to bring the scooty from the garage, to acquire teleporting . . . ; anything feasible from the impossible..
The driver raced the accelerator hard. As an initiative, one of the three got into it , followed by the other.

          “ Where will  you sit  ??  With the driver or with them ?? “.

His question got her really pissed. She turned back and strode like a Marathoner ignoring the four bumpkins  calling her out.

          “Aey . . . sister ?? … . . Are you going to stand here alone… ? This isn’t a safe locale- “.

          “ How the hell you know it’s not safe huh ?? You said you don’t know of this shit-hole place . . . Bloody liar… “. Her riposte sealed his mouth.

She directly went to the storekeeper who; though didn’t show any response but silently clear-sighted the whole scene; and was tying a box to his bike’s back.

          “ I need to make a call. Before that I need to get rid of this place. I may require a shelter for 3-hours. I may need some water . . . . .  actually, I really need it as I  forgot to fetch it from home . . .     Will you help me ? ? ? “.

Her affirmative sought, at first, startled him; a young man, almost her age. The 4-the-people still waited for her return. He knew taking her home wouldn’t appeal smooth. . . .                     ‘But it’s rattier out here..       

          “You’ll have to hold this box, sitting back.”

She sighed hard . . .  and said   “ Thank- you, thank you very much.. “.

Leaving the paramours surged with solitary testosterone, he took her on his bike. . .
Along a lane of akin  apartments; each having rusted gates and dilapidated fences, only one had faint yellow light unveiling the dingy interiors. She kept the box at the gate and waited for the young storekeeper to pursue his dailies.

         “ Auntie . . .  “, he called out in low voice. A middle-aged lady came out; half-sleeping, half walking, dizzied like a hen let out at night; staring at the girl with sleeveless top and a rucksack, she called him close. She saw a male face squinting at her through the window. His rudder eyes fumed essence of ardent spirits.

‘May be uncle.. ‘

Gibberish murmurs glided through different tones of defending, reasoning, apology, reassurance; every genre covertly embellishing  the altos in the conversation. Getting her a final stare-snap, aunty went inside the home. She feared if she too would male oriented servile woman, but her nephew took her bag and moved inside. She moved with him.

          “ Forgot to ask . . .What’s your name ?? .

          “ Rahul . . . . Heard such a name before ? “

          “ That is a common name. Lots of dudes have that ‘courtesan title’ . “

          “ Mm-hmm . . . . .  ?? “ . . .

          “ You didn’t ask my name-“
         
          “ Phone is out there . . .Make your call . “  he cut her off .

Her try to make up bonhomie went amiss. Dialing the numbers, one-by-one, slowly she monitored the replies plausibly groused by her Dad . . . She  gave it a second thought . . .Anyway she would have to wait till 4:30 am; her Dad can’t do any feasible maneuvers before the time.
 ‘ Sheer waste of time and emotions spoiling Dad’s sleep . . .  . . . . . . 
She dunked the receiver at once . . .

          “ What happened ?? … “ , moving on a towel into the bathroom, he asked.

          “ Okay . . . Here’s water . .  “. He gave her a filled bottle of boiled water.

It was almost 3am . She sat in the central room, only her mobile’s light to abet the solitude. She sat close to the door of Rahul’s bedroom, with a POV sighting  straight at a door slightly opened, where Auntie and Uncle slept. Still there were no bars atop her phone. A suspicious night and an alien refuge was enough to quell the yawns of wooziness. Music might invoke a sleep with more fierce nightmares. . . . .

Suddenly  light diffracted  through the ajar door in front of her. She went sober instinctively and could voyeur someone spreading a mat on the floor. A muddled string of Q-marks invaded her weenie brain. Slight interference of the slitted light enticed her eyes; eyeballs perceiving the buxom of an old trout. . .
She went naught and perplexed at the sight, totally uncertain in her stance. .

‘ Hell of a night.. !! ‘

Rigorous movements and steamy sounds maddened her; she willing each moment to run away  from that mad-house. In a trice, the door went completely open; the light piercing her eyes squinty  and ridiculing her brain with the ugliest vista she had ever seen . . .
‘ Cunninglingus . . . . . . 

She took a shawl and covered her face in the reflex and in utmost care, thudded on the door.

           “ …. . . . . ahh …err …  can we go for a walk ?? … “

Rahul ; after the initial bewilderment, recognized the problem under focus and with a condemned smile said to her.

          “ It’s a routine . . .when the rum descends is brain, he sorts to cum for pleasure .. Poor Auntie… Yup… Let’s walk. . .  It is going to be a long night . . . “.


          “ So where are your parents ? ? “ ; walking back the way they rode, she broke the silence.

          “ They are dead . . . . “

          “ Oh. . . I’m sorry. This night has been jam-packed with the mistakes . . . . “

          “ So you’re looking after the shop , , ,  your uncle’s shop . . . right??

          “Yeah . . . .”

His curt replies and lukewarm response failed to incite a conversation, pushing a lot of time wordless. She  could sense a young lad who last who lost a playful childhood, a caring parenthood, a good education, true friends, sophisticated technology .. .. Everything his contemporaries dwelt on ……… A rustic luddite, confined to accounts and staples throughout life ……..

‘ An off-beat night watchman   ‘.

          “ Going college ?? “.  His query was a surprise .

         “ Yup . . . . Govt  College of Engineering, TCR.    I’m doing graduation in electrical engineering.  . . “     

          “Good to hear …. “

         “ You’re  . . . . .I mean , , totally. . whole time engaged in storekeeping ?? “.

         “ Yeah . . . . After my parents died, I had to stop studies. Or my Uncle was not interested. His vehement toils hardly managed marrying his daughter to a Taylor. Changes don’t bother you, once you get used to . . . . “

She nodded compliantly. He wasn’t a complete artless chum; his intimate voice and unhappy  demeanor  made her slightly reminiscent of something . . .

          “ Here, get me the bag Latha . . I’ll take it  . .  he took her bag.

          “ But  . . . . I didn’t say my name to you right ???? How do you know it ? “

His  countenance tried hard to veil an accused censure, normalizing his visage intact .

          “ You said while at home . . . else how could I- “

          “ I’m sure I didn’t say my name. You know me right ?? I know. Else you wouldn’t take me to home at such a time; into such a condition . . . “

He put her bag down in utter bellicose; arcading a raw flaunt .

          “ Now that’s what you reward a guy, who would help you from a string of outlaws coaxing you to bed with them; one who fetched you water and- “.

          “ Not only that, Rahul ….., my mind says I know you . . . or I knew you . . And I strongly believe that you are in symbiosis . . . Aren’t you ??? “

Her affirmative face made him contemplate before responding.
‘She was bold . . . Now too . . Intact’

          “ Not exactly … “, He replied.

          “ What do you mean by that ?? “,

         “ I don’t  . . . . I don’t ‘think’ I know you. When I saw you for the first time at store; precisely when you mocked, ‘ What is this place ? ‘  [Smiling].. ; I realized who you are . . .
…………… ……………. . . . . ……………………………………………
…………………… it’s easy for me to remember one of my ex-classmate even after 8 years of  severance, instantly, as you guys were among my last good  memories . . . . . . . . .
When I see school-going children coming to store for chocolates and zip-ups ; a younger Rahul intervene my mind . . .; a delighted, playful soul.. , laughing and running in zeal . . . , among lots of friends .. “

She could faintly recollect a boy .. . Rahul .. . .  a slender figure .. . . but she couldn’t fathom that face . . . ; probably a lot different from the one beside her ..

          “ When I came to uncle’s; after a truck ran over the bike Dad rode, with mom behind  . . . . . . . . .  ; I . … I didn’t know there was no returning back . . . The only relation left of mine .. . My uncle , paid off pending house-rents and school fee; transposing me and my life to here . .
I couldn’t even say adieu to you all …….  . My friends , my class, teachers . . .the school . . My  heaven , ,                    ………….. All-at-a-go…     bludgeon…”

Tears drooled his eyes and started brimming out. She too felt her eyes damp. None would bode such a simulation even to enemies. . . . . .
They walked slowly, silently through the centre of road. Some stray dogs accompanied them to few distances; temporarily escaping them out of their catena of thoughts.  . . . Finally they reached his store. She looked her watch . . .4:05 am.

          “ So . . . . ?? “

          “ So .. What ? “

          “ Your  . . Future-plans .. ? “ ;

          “Oh Yeah .. . . Want to finish my B-tech well . . . Wanna  get a good job . . . . Then marry the guy I’m in love with . . “;

          “ Mm-hmm . . . pretty good. I hope all of them get pass without arrears. “ ;

They laughed loudly, that the ghastly echo startled them, , , like all other things did so far that night.

          “ Rahul . . . , I’ll never forget this night . . And you too .. . .  ? “; she said holding his hand.

         “ Thanks Latha.. So nice of you. And I’m sure you mean those words . . “

          “ Yup . . 100% “

The thick mist glistened like diamond, hovering their milieu with a serene silence. Sunlight made their brains pellucid. . .
Till the last moment  they could  be together, they talked about everything, relevant and irrelevant; singing the childhood rhymes together , mimicking the teacher who taught that . .  . She could find his relief out of levity , , , a release of desolation ,, long suffered …

When the two yellow dots, with a rumbling engine sound came into vision, they both looked into each other’s eyes. . .

‘ It’s time ‘ .

She stood up; and widening her arms flat, clasped him tight to her bosom. . .

          “ Take care PAL . . . Thanks for everything .. “      She kissed his cheeks.

The bus reeled forward; pulling the enigmatic hault of 3-hours she ever experienced into the past . . . into oblivion..

‘ Life is an unrehearsed play full of surprise . . . ‘ , she pondered.

When bars reappeared on her phone; her boyfriend rang; transmuting her mind from the thoughts to reality . . , 
But the ringtone made her , shuttle among them    . . .

                             HAR EK FRIEND, ZAROORI HOTA HEIN . . . . HER EK FRIEND ZAROORI HOTA HEIN ….. . 

                                                                                                            LAMA SIGNING OUT..
                   

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