A Drape Called Life

 

I was lying all rolled up, layered like an unwanted lump only until the weathered hands picked me out of my slumber and splash!!!! I was thrown into hot boiling water. What could I do? Oh nothing at all.
This time he kept me at arm’s length and I was left hanging. Dripping off me were pale droplets. I just hung on only to be literally yoked on to a firm support in an absolutely staccato manner.  Aged hands, soft hands; supple hands, nervous hands – all worked on me to make me what I am today!

Alas! I am hanging again…. suspended in a corner and over-looked; perhaps, I was just too plain Jane – a pale complexion with hints of dull rose smattering bit here and there. This never-ending isolation was jolted out of its snooze by the eyes that found me enormously beautiful. Thereafter, I was never to leave this persona’s side except on some days when the royal highness – after all, the one who chose me – accorded me chance to rest.

I travelled well-protected against the glaring eyes of the passers-by from the safe confines of home to work too – contented to be with my beloved and the one whose favourite I was! The softness of the touch made me alive. The deft way of handling me through the walks, talks, jumps, runs, scrambles, falls, daily humdrum – all of it made my life far more textured – ironed out again smoothly by the delicate touch!

With time, I shared my love with yet another one. Well, I do mind the caress not just saved for me or another partner of my beloved for some time now; but a third one! I was J and big time…. Now, the third touch is the gentlest of all and I so wish this self would tug at me more, wrap me in the tiny fingers, chew me off…..

And now, I hang again…. She, my mistress has chosen an effortless comrade. She says – I tire her out. She needs to pay more attention to me. And, I’m too demanding.

So, I hang in her wardrobe longingly looking when the door opens and the exhausted hands select another, and not me, her much loved saree – who waits in edgy patience to spring to life again. She looks at me and says – “You have been one of my dearest. I will give you to my precious grand-daughter.” I’m waiting to refresh my journey again, till my last thread of life J

 

All in One Evening….. Bags, Bundles, Packs and Packets!

I followed her…. She was walking across the jet black asphalt surface which reflected upon her further the pounding sunrays as a perfect business partner to the ball of fire! A calm silhouette of the young maternal figure ambled from one paved path to the next of her locality; gently pushing ahead the perambulator as she hummed a lullaby and walked with equally rhythmic foot-steps…

The intricately painted eyes appraised the surroundings through the seemingly lost maiden demeanour. Protective she was of her bundle which smiled, gurgled, guffawed and giggled to the differing pitches of childish gibber being spoken to him.

The dignified lady metamorphosed into a jabbering kid who could roll on endlessly and keep her small packet entertained. The rosy blush on her pale cheeks enhanced the spectacle of her beam as she lifted her little sachet and quite literally threw him in the air; only to catch him with an even wider grin, arms outstretched so as not to miss her precious catch!

 

I could see her all through till she suddenly turned and disappeared into one of the lanes….

And I then decided to turn into the super-market to do a quick round of grocery.

I saw her there… Her clutch tucked under the wet, you know what? She performed the perfect balancing act and how! One of the lot of her five fingers connected to the upper limbs clutched as much as it could – a humongous bunch of the not-so environment-friendly polythene with possibly an assortment of all kinds of fresh edibles.

Well, the other hand, turned as if it had been in a sling – balanced as many packs as it could. And yet the brave-heart tried stretching across to pick yet another one. This time it was a bottle of ketchup precariously balanced in the grasp of her two, must say, sturdy fingers.

She did drop her whole load, not to lift it again. This time all of it went from the cash counter to a trolley eventually as she pushed the four wheels to her vehicle as she walked the last lap of her hurdle race with the baton of her grocery finally hitting the finishing line!

 

I too walked out with my errands done and sorted.

As I approached the elevator of my building, I saw her… The beauty of her tired eyes struck me as also the tightly fitting striped shirt she wore, which suddenly kind of hung loose from the girdle of her persona. Ah! The lady was cautious of camouflaging the growing heaviness of ……. More than what our first thoughts tell us!

  

The firm yet weary legs pitter-pattered towards the elevator. Her slender feet, bit puffy slid at an obnoxious angle into the jet black patent leather half-open boots, yup we could call it that. She carried a dark coloured bag, perhaps a case for her loaded laptop, loaded with the day’s work, with undone assignments and loaded with the inertia of yet another day.

By the way, hung from her slender shoulders, yes the collar-bone did show… was her designer bag – a medley of colours on a coffee background of pure leather against the drained profile I was seeing. Aye, aye… the perks of attempting to stash those dyed paper notes after taking on the load through the days? She got off on her floor with even brisker steps as the confines of her warm hearth invitingly called out!

 

The elevator halted its ascending journey.

 

 This time, I saw him... Literally jostling with himself as he entered the sparkling space on the last leg of my routine journey that evening. He wore a pure steel grey three-piece with a tie that blended in well and appeared to be more like a twine to pull the six feet, broad shouldered, muscular necked load of a gentleman ahead.

I could not have missed his somewhat worn-out office bag hanging on one side and on the other… was a lady’s bag – a shimmering deep red, almost clamouring for attention at all times. There was more to him, I mean the mass that he carried – a simple lunch case juxtaposed against the (in)famous handbag.

And, the poor fella very warily carried in his arms the jewel of his life, his daughter – sound asleep – absolutely unaware of all the bags, bundles, loads and shadowy silhouettes around. Behind this apparently stolid and shielding persona, walked in his better half – balancing her load – two mobiles, an iPod, an ear-piece, the car keys and of course, the apartment keys!

 

Hmmm… I’m still wondering who gets the award that evening for –

 Who has the strongest shoulder blades???

 

Tick Tock, Tick Tock

Tick tock, tick tock,

She goes as per her own clock!

She was born

When she should have rolled

And turned around

In the carefree fluid…

Landed on the hospital bed

In the middle of the night

Or was it early morning

Absolutely non-aligned with the 24 hours…

Crawling and tumbling

Toddling-ly stood up straight

Much before the defined time!

Tick tock, tick tock,

She goes as per her own clock!

Did the golliwog locks

Grow faster or she?

The conjoined brows

Stretching north to south…

Shooting in height

Or was it an over-grown child?

Expanding vertically

Like a non-partisan independent candidate…

Running and rolling

Mischievously monkey-ing around

Oblivious to the awaiting adulthood time!

Tick tock, tick tock,

She goes as per her own clock!

Was it work or play

Did you say job?

She hopped around

As per her own plan…

Retire she did

From her occupation

And from the world’s dictates

Breathing a sigh of relief…

Horsing around

Apparent callousness about

Cocooned in her own time-frame!

Tick tock, tick tock,

She goes as per her own clock!

Sigh… sigh…

Wish I was her

Living the dream

We all see

Not warped in the paraphernalia

Of a steady life stream…

One step here

Another there

On the road

To our thoughts

Building our sand castles

Amidst the tumultuous tides…

With child-like faith

And gay abandon

Small steady steps

Entrenched in persevering steam;

Lost in my own wonderland,

Relentlessly in an endless sweet dream!

Tick tock, tick tock,

She goes as per her own clock!

Chase on!!!

When we speak of an experience, generally we refer to it as a situation which has reached its fruition or a grand, climactic and successful finale. However, even greater experiences are those wherein the challenges and struggles carry on along with one’s spirited faith and a genial approach to life.

The other day, we were out at one of the malls of this city; admiring or rather mechanically absorbing the grandeur of the expanse of space around us – suddenly being belittled by the looming pitter-pattering of the swirling crowd coming closer and closer …. Just like an emergent hurricane which would simply engulf us.

Anyway, getting back to the little window of our entertainment, we looked below at these vivacious skittles of all ages trying to master the art of sliding on a frozen floor…. Some were falling, some really twisting themselves, some just about gliding while some merrily tearing across like a sandstorm blurring the vision of the slow yet nimble-footed learners.

Oh! What joy for the blue jacketed, blonde haired angel to glide through just a few steps. Ouch!!!! Look at that naughty rascal – not only losing his balance, but also toppling his sibling three-sixty degrees over while laughing and guffawing all over the place.

Well, if I were that innocent golliwog who had been literally pushed aside, you would be encountering the worst nightmare of your life – a kid weeping like the sudden, out of place rainfall here with solid hail stones pelting down and breaking through the already highly sonorous cacophony!

Nah… That curly haired, tiny bundle of a kid tried getting up but kept falling…. Finally, got up and with his unsteady and jerky glides gave a hundred per cent chase to give back what he had so lovingly received!

The chase went on… at least till the time we watched… only to be yanked away by some friends eager to get on with some serious mall-ing… hmmm…