July 4, 2010 § 4 Comments
We are waiting at the station for the train to arrive. She is pacing up and down, tense and despondent. People kept gazing at her, but she seemed oblivious. Now she comes towards me,
“They don’t have a face.”
” The face lets out secrets, they cannot have one. Rather we cannot see it. Each one of us has a visage which tells his own story, but for the congregation, there is none.”
“yes….”, her voice trails.
It lingers within me. I cannot understand my own emotions. I could until she turned up again. Personally, I am fighting a battle within. Is she good for me? I had all but retired from being a captain planet. It makes you remorseful. day after day, spent looking at the oblivion.
Murder, genocide, droughts, floods, disasters, poisonous gases, derailments, jealously, hate, pride- the list goes on. If you want to do something with your life, it is better to ignore and try to put yourself above it all-figuratively and politically.
but when disaster strikes close to you, when it affects you, you have no other go. You have to either tame the tiger or shoot it. It doesn’t show itself-so you can’t shoot it; It cannot be tamed either, for it is such. What is your nature?
I was distracted. A pinch brings me back to my senses. The train rushes in. The vast human diaspora-some jump down, some hop on. A flurry of activity- All reconciles with the nothingness. Some step towards their dreams, others step away from and fall into servitude. The penchant for failure and darkness is innate and it eats away anything left.
We board the train. About 10 seconds are left, I can hear the horn. Around us, people push and crush each other. A beggar is singing, a couple of people are shouting at each other. A few are carrying their daily stock from the nearby markets.
Noises. The train grinds to a halt. Rumours spread like wildfire- a bomb in the next station! Eager men, climb down and try to catch some of the action. Blank.
She sighs. ” Now this…”
About five minutes pass, we hear sirens. She urges me to get down,
” Let us get away from here.”
We jump and walk away. We jump over tracks leading to somewhere. We jump over tracks which run over rivers, joining shores and cleaving through mountains, running past fields and factories- suddenly these things seem important.
The fact that you are a small nothing in this ocean- maybe the eyes are humongous and we fail to see it. Maybe we shouldn’t see it at all. Maybe we are meant to search and suffer and yearn and then begone. She is walking along silently, listless.
This is torture. I don’t like this silence. We reach a park. renovated and painted. Perfectly cut grass and disciplined trees and drunk men loafing away, ignorant and blissful.
” Tell me something, I cannot carry on like this.”
” What should I say?”
” You can tell me what happened?”
“I cannot. I don’t know. I don’t know, what is wrong, anyway.”
“Look I don’t feel good about this.”
“Neither do I.”
One part of me wants to run away, but legs do not listen. After all when you stare into those eyes, nothing else exists- the world belongs to them. Or does it? Maybe it doesn’t. The fact that she is where she is, is a give away. Or maybe not. Maybe this is a drama within her. Maybe she truly loves me.
She laughs, ” You men are all the same!”
I chide myself, within. But manage a weak smile, “You know that isn’t the case.”
“Oh! I know so many things. And yet, what is the use?”
“There is something beyond everything.”
“There is nothing beyond this for me.”
Big words. I dare not say something wrong.
“Let us sit here for a while, I need to breathe.”
“But this is the middle of the world. Just look around.”
Apparently subconsciously I did take in the world around. There is a bustling market around us. the shops though were furiously shutting down- precaution against more bombs.
“See the fear. See it chases us. See the fury. They never leave you alone. The come after us.”
“yes, but you left me, when I needed you.”
She keeps mum.
” So why do you come to me now?”
“because, you need me as much as I need you.”
I hate this. You want to believe that destiny is written as you go along, but when people like her interfere! What is wrong if a man lives with his peace?
Anger. But I some how keep calm, it is those eyes again.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I will, but not here.”
Someone taps me on my shoulder. I turn around.
“hello Raj, how are you.”
That voice. Memories. I turn around, slowly…