An Extinguished Flame

She slammed the door of her Santro car and sped off. I was always scared when she did that. Unassumingly a very good driver for a woman, she drove rashly when she was angry. I was afraid that she might hurt someone for no fault of theirs. The fault would be entirely mine. It was because of me that she was angry. It was because of me that she was so upset. But I had no choice. Marriage after all is not child’s play. She knew it, I knew it, and love has got nothing to do with it. Our story was like straight out of a Bollywood film. Minus the song and dance. She was from a rich family, I was from a middle class family. I was a struggling musician, she was a highly paid professional in an MNC. We met at college and I fell in love. Flat on my face. I never recovered from that fall. A courtship of nine years had passed and we had gone ahead a long way in our lives. I left studies in the last year and joined a rock band. We were quite pathetic. All our fragile egos bought the band to the rocks. Nevertheless I have been trying since then to make a mark in the field. People were making enough money in this field doing dirty to mediocre music. I hated it. Remixes and more remixes were the order of the day. These people would take up some wonderful R D Burman track and rape it. Into shreds. I wondered why there was no death penalty for rape. If there was, half the music industry would be cleansed of this curse called remix. I hated myself to be born in this era. Nothing made any sense. Plagiarism was at its helm. And a reasonably sensible musician like me was struggling for a job. A la Amir Khan in Akele Hum akele Tum, another plagiarized version of Frazer v/s Frazer.

I was left standing alone on the sea face, without a job, without my girl who always stood like a Rock of Gibraltar whenever I was in the dumps. But now she has left me too. The salty air sprayed on to my face as the lashes hit the boulders on the promenade. Wonderful golden lights lit up the street and the buildings far away. The lights glittered like gold sprinkled around the landscape. I walked towards the bus stop to catch a bus back home. I usually went back home quite late when everyone was asleep. If I reached early I would have to hear from my dad how worthless I was. I was 32, still staying with my parents and not contributing anything to my family, while my younger brother was earning a handsome package working at a call center. My life sucked and when things go wrong, you are worse than a sucker. I felt like running towards the sea and drowning myself of shame, but suicide needs courage. And that is something, somehow I lacked.

I got into the almost empty BEST bus. Only an old man sat in one corner. He looked at me and smiled, his smile extending from one ear to another without a single tooth. I took my ticket and looked outside. The empty landscape of the city reminded me of the emptiness in myself. I was good for nothing. I had proved my dad right. Sonia too must have realized it by now. I was alone, all alone. The bus stopped and I saw the old man getting off. The bus was now completely empty, just like my head. As the bus sped away at top speeds on the empty road, the metal handles hanging from the bar above rattled making a lot of noise, just like my head. Soon the bus reached the last stop. The conductor yelled out at me to get off. I turned around and headed for the exit. An old torn wallet lay on the floor. I looked around for the conductor, there was no one around. I wondered whether I should give it to the conductor, but I hesitated. I did not trust them. What if they took the money and threw away the wallet. It would never reach the owner. I put it in my pocket and walked home.

I slid in the keys slowly into the keyhole and turned it, unlatching the door. My youngest brother was already snoring away to glory; my younger brother was talking away to glory at the call center. I lay the bed on the floor and lied down. There was no sleep in my eyes, only tears, and memories of the wonderful times with my Sonia. The streetlight filtered into the room from the window. I went and sat down in the light. Removing the purse from the pocket, I decided to find out, whose wallet it was. Maybe it was the old man who smiled at me in the bus while I was too immersed in my thoughts to respond to him. Maybe it was somebody else who had got off before I got into the bus. I probed into the wallet. There were hardly any money. Twenty two rupees to be exact. I searched the other crevices. There was a piece of paper and some coupons, some cinema tickets that were hardly readable. There was no address of the owner. I opened the piece of paper that was folded neatly. The paper was fragile and could have easily fallen into pieces. Carefully, I opened it and laid it out on the floor.

It read

Dear Ram,

Today is one of the most difficult days of my life. When I look behind, there are only fond memories of you that I keep in my heart. You made my life special. You gave a new meaning to my existence. Till you came into my life, I thought I was living a beautiful life. But it was when you came walking into my house that things changed forever. I am fortunate that I loved you. I am unfortunate that I loved you, for our love will never be complete. This world is too short sighted to see us love and live together. For me there is only one religion, the religion of love, but there are so many other things that in life we do not have control over. I call it fate. People call it destiny. I have belief in our love, but not in myself.

I write this letter because I do not have the strength to face you. Please do not hate me for what I am doing. This is the best for both of us. Why should our love for each other deny us of the love others bring to our lives. Let everyone around us be happy. If everyone around us is happy, we would be happy.

I know you would understand. Unrequited love lives forever.

I will always love you,
Marianne
23rd July 1953


I looked into the sky from the window. The sky was clear and deep. Somehow, the letter looked like a clue for my life from heaven. I read through the letter again and again. It looked like a story straight from the time of Raj Kapoor. A tragic love story. The tragedy looked bigger than mine. I lay sleepless in the bed through the night. In the morning I pretended I was asleep as I heard my father curse me as he left to work. My brother cursed me as he came back from work. Once I knew the coast was clear I got up and brushed my teeth. My mother kept telling me it was not a bad idea to join the call center. After all, I would be earning something. Today any Tom, Dick and Harry could get through to a call center. But I believed that it would make me brain dead. I quickly gulped an egg sandwich, took my mobile off the charger and left for the stop where the old man had got down the previous night. There was no other clue. Just a wallet and a slight memory of the toothless smile. I had a hunch it had to be the old man. My mobile had not rung since morning. It felt like a lonely day. Not a single day had passed in the past nine years without a morning call from Sonia. Not a single SMS.
I got down at the stop. There was a slight commotion at the bus stop. People were bashing up an eve teaser. I walked a little away from the bus stop. The bus stop reminded me of my school days. Our school was a five minute walk from this bus stop. The trees around the compound of the girls school bought in fond memories of the good time we had. An old age home separated the boys school from the girls school. Every time we passed by the old age home, eager old people used to wave out to us. The joy that they achieved while they saw us wave back was fantastic. I had a clue there. Maybe that old man was from the same old age home. But that was only one in a million chance. But nevertheless, I had nothing to lose and nothing to do.

I entered the building.

An old woman sat at the desk with two other older women. As they noticed me enter, they stopped abruptly and stared at me.
“May, I help you young man?” the slightly younger lady stood up and spoke in a stern voice.
“I am looking for someone named Ram. Does he live here?” I asked.
“What is his full name?”
“Well, I don’t know, but I found this yesterday in the bus” I said taking out the lost wallet and handing it over to her “I had spotted an old man getting down in the night yesterday at the bus stop, so I took a chance.”

“Oh Ram? you have got his wallet? He was so concerned he lost it.” The old lady’s voice turning cheerful and more welcoming. “I thought you had come to enquire about another enrollment.”

“Enrollment?” I was not clear what it meant. “Doesn’t matter dear, It is so nice of you to bring his wallet back. He was so tense, he did not sleep last night. He has gone to the Bus depot looking for it” she said.

“Don’t worry, I will give it to him, son” she confirmed.

“Can I wait for him?” I could not help myself from asking. The other two women kept staring at me. The stares made me slightly uncomfortable. So I thought it would be wiser to come back a while later. “Can I come a while later?” I asked the old lady.

“Sure Son!” she replied.

I got off the gates and looked back. The school had just left. The road was filled with kids. I turned to look on to the windows. It was filled with old people waving out to the kids and the kids waving back at them. One thing that never changed. For me, it looked as if it were the same old people I used to wave out as a child.

I reached the stop nearby. A light little music filled the air. The sound of the wind that flowed through a pipe had an immense effect on my heart. I followed the trail. Around the corner there was a municipal garden filled with couples canoodling in the shades avoiding the stark hot sun. Below a tree that was in the middle of the garden was an old man selling flutes, playing the flute. I went close to him and sat down. He continued unperturbed, his eyes closed. The tune was of an old song from a hindi film, which spoke about loss of love. All these things seemed connected. I had just lost out on my girl, my love. I get a wallet that has a love letter that dated back to 1953 and here is a man playing a flute of a song that spoke about loss of love. Did this mean that the world was full of lost love? The pain of the song could be felt in the deepest corners of my heart…

… to be continued

A new life

I opened my eyes. There was light. As the blur left its way for sharp images, I realized the figure of Sia staring at me.

She had tears in her eyes.

“How are you?” she asked.

“Fantastic, shall we dance?” I said

“Shut up! You don’t know how to dance!”

“Well, I can try!”

“Pranay..”

“Yes…”

“Shut up”

“OK”

“I thought I would loose you”

“I thought I lost you”

“I think we are pretty much lost people anyways!”

“Did I hurt you?”

“Yes you did”

“I am sorry”

“I am not”

“Will you marry me?”

“No”

“Would you mind if I keep asking you this, till the end of our life?”

“You will keep asking this question for the rest of your life?”

“Even when you are 75, and don’t have a single teeth in your mouth, I would still love you and marry you!”

“You are crazy!”

“What will we name our kids?”

“We wont have any kids”

“If it is a boy, we will call him Aryan, but I would prefer to have a girl child”

“We will call her Ananya”

“I will take Aryan for fishing”

“They will be vegetarian”

“O.K. we will leave the fish into the water after catching it”

“Can we keep a dog?”

“You already have a dog!”

“No I don’t!”

“Bow wow”

I held her hand. It was the first time I ever touched her. I felt at peace. In the car, I thought God wanted to take away my life. I was wrong. He wanted to give me life.

A life for a life

The sound of traffic had filled the entire environment with a sense of urgency. The sound of police vans and ambulance echoed in the distance as I hid myself between the unfinished beams of the flyover. I was sweating as if it was a mid afternoon heat of may. The perspiration trickled down my face to drip at the chin. My forearm that brushed against the sulphur coated steel reinforcement was bleeding. My heart was beating at an abnormal rate. My ears warm with blood filled earlobes cooling down as I waited with abated breath. I had to abandon the place as soon as possible. The revolver I had with me had three bullets less. I do not know if the bullet had found its way into the ribs of the man I intended to shoot, but a little miscalculation had led to an accident and caused a car to overturn into the construction site nearby. Sitting on the concrete boulders, I pushed the little revolver into the little cavity that formed with the multitudes of garbage piled with concrete blocks. It was a safe place to keep the revolver. ‘No one will ever find it’ I thought to myself. I took a pile of slimy garbage from nearby and covered the cavity. The money must have reached the hospital.

‘Surili deserves to live. What else am I living for?’ I told myself. I looked around. I picked up some empty cola bottles. If I was caught, I could tell them I was searching for cola bottles, I would sell them to make some money for dinner. Grabbing the bottles, I left the place.

As I left the place, the fire fighters were dragging out the car. The man was bleeding, someone said in the crowd. He might not survive. The other man was dead. He was dead on the spot. The bullet had pierced where his heart was. I know God will never forgive me for taking lives of the people I hardly knew. But God was not fair with me either. Why Surili, of all people? Why did she get the disease that was born out of my mistakes? I was ready to fight God. He had to be fair, at least to a child of three years who did not know what life was all about!

The train journey to the station was filled with anxiety. With every police man passing by, I would think he already knew that I had committed a murder. So I walked looking down on the feet below. Why did I have to come from the little village? Wasn’t it better living in the village without a dream than leaving everything behind? I was on the brink of loosing everything that I had, my daughter. Had I not come to this city, neither would I have gone and….

My wife died a month ago. We were childhood sweethearts. She was the daughter of the neighbouring farmer. During our childhood, we used to pack food for our father and take it to the fields in the noon. We used to play in the fields till the evening. In the evening I would swim in the nearby river with my other friends. Later, when we grew up she was about to get married to a man from the nearby village. She got married and left. There was little I could do.

Soon she returned. Her in-laws had abandoned her. The dowry was not paid in full. Her father died and I took it on myself to marry her. We got married soon. Her father had taken many debts to pay for the dowry. The fields did not pay much for repaying the loan. I set my foot on the soils of Bombay.

The first few weeks I lived on the footpath, searching for food, begging for work. One day, finally I got a job in a bar. A dance bar, where women danced as rich men threw the money on them. It was a nice job, I could get food for atleast one time a day. They used to offer food for all their employees in the night. That is when I became a friend of a bar dancer. She used to dance amazingly to the tunes of Mehbooba… She reminded me of Helen. She was in love with me, she said. One night, when it was late and I was tired, my reasoning left my mind. In her I saw my wife. But it was an illusion that the alcohol had offered my vision.

I regretted it and never ever went back to her again. I got a job in a different bar. I asked my wife to join me, thinking her presence would keep me away from the evils of an empty mind. Here, in the new home, it was a safe place. I had rented a little room in Dr. Ambedkar Colony. At the least, she would not be hounded by the evil money lenders of the village. Soon we had a little child. Her laughter used to fill the house with a sweet lyrical sound. We named her Surili. She became our world.

One day, my wife got a flu. We went to the doctor. He gave some medicines, but she did not improve. A blood test followed. She might not be able to survive, the doctor said. He asked me to give a test. Why was he asking me to give a test when my wife was not well? Hesitantly I gave the test. The doctor said that I had a grave disease, it might have gone to my daughter too!

How could it happen? The doctor was fooling me. I went to another doctor. He said the same thing. I needed money for her treatment. I went to the bar owner. But destiny had something else for me. Dance bars were closed – forever. A politician wanted to play the moral police of the city. The owner of my dance bar had left for Dubai. I went everywhere for help, but nowhere did I get any. One day when I reached home, Surili was laughing and playing on the bed next to her mother who had stopped breathing.

A couple of weeks later, Surili got a cold. There was no money with me. I went to the same doctor. He asked me to take Surili’s blood test. I did not have the money. The doctor gave me some money and asked me to take the test. After the test, he said that Surili has the disease, he dreaded. ‘We need to shift her to the I.C.U. I will arrange for some money, but it will be 2000 short’. Where will I get Rs.2000, I thought to myself. I broke down in the hospital.

A nice man came to me and took me to a nearby canteen. He said he had heard my story. He could arrange for the 2000 rupees if I did his work. He was a nice man. ‘The job is simple’ he said. He handed me over a packet. It had rs. 1000 and a revolver. ‘It is loaded’ he said. ‘You just have to press the trigger’ he said. I will stop near an Opel car and knock on the door, you will see this man’ he pulled out a photograph of a man in a black suit. “Aim the gun at him and pull the trigger. After that just run. The remaining money for the treatment will reach the hospital, even before you reach here.” he said.

I did not know what to say. ‘I can help you if I want to, but you seem to be a self made person, a person who wont take any favors, that is why. Think about it’

I had lost my wife. Surili was the only person I had in my life. I had to do it for her. If it meant it was to sacrifice somebody else’s life. The man was already heading to the entrance gate of the hospital. I ran behind him.

‘I will do it. I will do anything’ I told him.

What a grave thing to do? Wont that man who died have a daughter or a son? Wont he have a wife at home, waiting for him? But Surili’s life was at stake. What kind of a father would I be, had I not done anything to save my daughters life! I reached the hospital. The place was buzzing with activity. I went to the enquiry. I asked about my daughter. A nurse came next to me. She said they tried, but there was nothing they could do.


She was asking for me in the last minutes of her life, the nurse said.


What have I done?

My first date

It is my first date. I am pretty nervous. I have never been mesmerized by a beauty so pure ever before. Her small eyes, pure and deep black eyes keep haunting every moment ever since I met her. Love was about loving the most irritating things about her. I hated looking into her eyes. I would keep searching for myself, but always in vain. But there was something about her. I loved her eyes. They are so deep and so mysterious, as if there is a huge universe to be explored. I had to tell her about my feelings today. I wanted to waste no time in spending each possible moment with her. So I got a bouquet and some chocolates. Women love chocolates, my friends told me. So I grabbed a Roche and headed for “The Gossip Mongers” café. We were to meet there at 8. It was 7.30 and I was ready for my date. I sat in my car and kept mumbling trying to tell her how much I was in love with her. As the watch ticked close to eight my heart started beating faster. There she was, walking towards the café. She went in and then walked out. Seeing this beautiful lady in front of me, I was almost sure, I would have a seizure. But the phone rang with a sweet tune that was meant to be her call. I saw her through the wind screen. I picked up the phone.

Hello?

Where are you?

Just parking my car. Where are you?

I am at the café. Come right in.

O.K.

Cya.

Beep. Beep.

I took my breath in and headed to the café with the bouquet and the pack of chocolates. She was sitting looking towards her mobile, as if irritated. I took the flowers and offered it to her as she stared at the mobile phone. A smile crossed her face.

Thanks. They are beautiful.

Not as much as you.

That is so sweet.

No. This is sweet.

I handed the box of chocolates to her.

Oh God! You did not have to get all these things, frankly.

I thought you would like it.

I like it Harsh, but it is just so formal.

Sorry for being so formal. I am like this, you know. With all these corporate bull shit in life, I tend to be such in every aspect of my personal life. I should learn to shed these habits.

No, its ok. I mean you don’t have to be so formal with me. We are good friends, and friends don’t need to give flowers and chocolates every time they meet!


O. K. point taken. So how was your day?

O.K. how was yours?

O.K.

An eerie silence followed.

“So…” both of us spoke simultaneously, as if we both had the same things in the mind.

“Sorry, you tell” I offered.

“No you tell”

What would you like to have? Tea or coffee? Something to eat?

Actually, yes I am hungry. Lets order something?

You would like to have chicken or mutton.

I am vegetarian.

Even the chicken and the lamb are vegetarian, you know.

She stared at me silently.

Bad Joke. I accepted.

Oh O. K. Veg then!

One veg burger, one chicken noodles, and two cappuccino.

Anything else sir?

Anything else madam?

No that will be all.

O. K. Sir, your order will take 10 min.

Fine. Thank you.

So tell me. How is life?

Her mobile phone rang. She disconnected. With a frown on her face.

Is something bothering you?

No, it is just o.k. Sometimes the past gets behind you and you have nowhere to go.

Well pasts can be painful sometimes.

She smiled.

Why do you have to agree with everything I say?

Do I?

Yes you do.

O.K. So I disagree with you. Past has many memories that you don’t want to forget. Some of the most beautiful things have happened in the past, and even more beautiful things are just about to happen to you.

It was a little overwhelming, but for an amateur, I was quite on a roll.

Not for me, she said.

You want to share it with me? That is, if you don’t mind.

No Harsh, you are a close friend. I can tell you everything.

Close friend! I would like to be more than that. I thought to myself.

Trust me, I am a good listener.

That you are. You know, there is this friend of mine I have, or rather had. We were pretty pally with each other. It was like we had met once very briefly at a railway station when we were in college because he was a friend of a friend. Then we lost touch and one day he landed up in my office for some work. We instantly recognized each other and our friendship started growing. We became very close to each other.

The sky thundered and a small little drizzle started outside. Couples waiting outside rushed in while some teenagers started dancing in the rain. I wondered if the roof was leakng as there was a drop rolling down her cheeks. She wiped her eyes. She has a relationship that is over or almost on the verge of being over, I thought. Am I a crying shoulder?

We used to spend very less time with each other but we would be in touch once a week or sometimes once a month. It was a beautiful relationship until he proposed to me.

The lightning cracked in the distant sea on a lonely boat. I barely heard what she said after that. After a while as she stopped moving her lips, I gathered enough courage to ask her.

Do you love him?

He is a wonderful person.

Do you love him?

I cant. You know, I am not made that way. I tried to tell him to move on, but he doesn’t.

Do you love him?

He says it is o.k, if I don’t marry him as long as I don’t marry anybody else. He is crazy. Why does he want to waste his entire life for me?

So you don’t love him.

Her mobile phone rang. She cut the phone.

See, he keeps on calling me up like this. I need my space. This is what it all gets to. Initially you say you will give the space and later you start getting on to each other nerves and sooner than you realize the love is all gone and it’s a pretty boring congested life with questions being asked all the time!

Your order sir. The waiter intervened.

Some mustard please. She said to the waiter.

Sure madam.

So now I feel it is time to shut off. Probably he would stop calling me.

Did you tell him what you felt?

No. about what?

About how you feel about him.

How do I feel about him? I don’t know.

So you don’t love him?

I could hardly eat my chicken noodles. It was as if the dead chicken was stuck up in my throat trying to chuckle.

He is a wonderful person.

And you don’t love him?

Beep Beep. She got an SMS.

See this is what the problem is. He sends me SMS like this when he knows I don’t like such SMS.

She showed me the sms. …I lve u…

Why don’t you call him and tell him how you feel. I am sure he would understand.

You think I should.

Yes. Pretty much. If he has fallen in love with you, it is pretty much your fault.

What do you mean?

You are so beautiful.

She smiled. She looked beautiful.

So u are saying I should speak to him.

Yes.

And tell him what?

Whether you love him or don’t love him. Things will be pretty clear then for him, wont it? The problem is you are not telling him whether you love him or you don’t. That is the only thing he wants to know. He is not asking you to marry him, is he?

No.

So whatever you have in your heart, tell him. If you don’t love him, then tell him you don’t. If you love him, tell him you do. Whatever comes later face it then.

I felt my heart pain as if I had dug a dagger into my own heart.

I think it makes sense. You are really cool, you know that.

Yes I do, I am like that from my childhood.

She punched me in my arm and we laughed.

So call him.

Now?

Yes now. Or I know you will never call.

I will.

No you wont

O.K.

She dialed the number.

“Hello, Pranay?”….. Oh…. can I speak to him?.... What?... How?.... When?.... Oh my God!... How is he now…. Where is he?

Tears started rolling from her eyes.

“Oh my God! What have I done?” she started weeping. People around looked at us with an uncomfortable gaze.

Is everything o.k. sia? I asked her trying to pacify her sobs.

He had an accident… He was trying to call me… I cut the phone twice and he smsd me that he loved me. She sniffed into her kerchief trying to recompose herself. Now he is with the paramedics. He is critical, he has lost a lot of blood. They are taking him to City Cross hospital.

Lets go there, I said.
She sniffed into her kerchief trying to recompose herself.

I knew my date was over, but a new friendship was born.