WE CAN ONLY BE...

We live together…We shall die together…And its ok if we are not Lovers!!!
Those words rang in her ears once again.
They were together. Through their toddler days and finally the graduation years. Hinting the possibility of a secret relationship to the world and then quietly laughing about this trick they played. Friends, truly, sincerely- Just friends!
A day came when they were walking through a not so well lit road and she was about to get hit by a car when he just pulled her back and saved her. It looked more like a super hero on a rescue mission to save the heroine…but then he was always like that. She was convinced about it and happy in his shelter. Knowing fully well that love was taking place of friendship in his heart. But then, it was unsaid and lay untouched. But that particular day after saving her and taking relief that she was in one piece, without any wounds he gave her a moist eyed look and said- You know what… ‘We live together’. She didn’t know what to say in that tense, intense moment. So all she muttered was- ‘We shall die together.’ He looked deeper into her eyes and then finally gave a blank stare a wink and an unexpected reply- ‘Hey! And it’s ok if we are not lovers!’
She ran home. Angry, annoyed, confused, sad. Unable to understand why was it like that. The next 24 hours went brooding about that one single moment. Then finally she gave up and accepted that her first love story, if at all it was, had succumbed to time. And this was it.
They didn’t meet for many days after that. She saw him but hid away, though continued to look at him through the corner of her eyes, struggling to control the flutter in her heart that his presence still caused. From friendship…to almost love…to nowhere.
The next year brought wedding bells along. She looked like the princess of the world in her red outfit. The rites done, the blessings taken, her groom by her side, as she walked towards her car, there was a pat at her shoulder.
He stood there. Dressed in classic black, with a bouquet in his hand. Yes, he looked better than most in that room.
He said- ‘Hey beautiful! You will always be happy. I know that now. Do tell me if you need something.’
She unaffected by the people around returned saying- ‘You should know about what I want. Remember, we lived together.’ To that he reacted with a smile and words she knew well with an added question mark- ‘We shall die together?’ The satire in the way he said it made her laugh and reply- ‘Ya...and its ok…we are not lovers.’
Years passed. They weren’t living together anymore. Responsibilities pushed way into life and she forgot those words. Only one day when she was sending her daughter to school she heard about a badly injured major serving the Indian Army, lying dead in the hospital.
She recognized the name. The photograph. There was no one to claim his body. He didn’t have a family. Just a few belongings. He was a great soldier they said. Fighting till the last minute. The true hero Well, she knew, he always was one.
They didn’t find too many belongings. Just a diary. With his work schedules drawn. His rules written. His important things listed. His goals carved. Nothing of any importance to her. Except the last page where he had scribbled in red-
We hardly lived together
I know we won’t die together
Still…we are, we can only be Lovers!!!

AN UNTIMELY FOREVER...

The first dew of the dawn
The first pink of the morning sky
The first bud in between the greens
The first blink of a new born’s eye.

The last star that twinkles before light
The last echo of the bells in the church
The last waft of the fog before the air clears
The last whisper of the creatures of the night

There would have been many middle moments to encounter
There would be a thousand reasons to live
But she finally gave up and drank that potion
To finally poison those moments and …forever fall asleep.

BAHADUR HAD A BRIDE

'Ho! Ho! Ho! Bahadur Ho! Ho!'

As the azan of Jama Masjid echoed across the gallis of Old Delhi, it was time for little Ali Hassan to direct Bahadur back to his shed.

Bahadur- the pride of Hassan family, the talk of the mohallah, Ali’s partner in crime and not to mention, Chand Khaala’s true source of income. After all Rs 4000 that Salim Hassan earned wasn’t enough to support a family of four kids, one begum and his Abba. So as the winters sent across the chills in the city, Bahadur’s yearly woolen fur offering added to the income in a big way. That’s the way the Hassan family survived, progressed and saw some happy sumptuous Eids.

Bahadur was munching his fresh green diet in the evening when a thought crossed Chand Khaala’s head and formulated a strange calculation. She was thinking about a family. A sheep family and the income it would generate from the wooly kids. Yes, she finally decided. Bahadur needs a bride. The family discussed and debated. And little Ali proclaimed himself as the Bride finder. The search started.

It was a Sunday when the sweet smell of Jalebis, pulled Ali and his clan to Ramcharan’s kadhai which he carefully halted by the roadside everyday. Ramcharan’s jalebis, although overtly glazed with cheap ghee, did tempt quite a few peddlers. As the jalebis were served in leafy bowls, Ali took the first bite and burned his tongue. Then came the scream and finally a splash of water. In between all the chaos, Ali’s little ears caught a bleat. She stood there. Eyeing Ali, not directly though. She was demure, shy and playful. Yes, she was perfect. And whenever she moved, the little tinker bell around her neck created soundful music. She was Lajjo, Ramcharan’s sheep, a female sheep. And Ali was already hearing the shehnaai.

The matter was discussed. It was going to be a grand marriage. A marriage that went beyond the walls of caste. The sturdy male Bahadur was marrying the tender female Lajjo. Two weeks later. Ali was laughing and hugging Lajjo. He had another pet in the family now. Bahadur would have his companion now. It was a joyous event for both the families.A week passed. Things progressed slowly. Free Jalebis made way to Hassan’s family. Greetings were exchanged. The names of the next off springs were decided. The trade would happen on a 60- 40 basis from what the next generation would bring through. Ali found a new friend in Ramcharan’s daughter Radha.

All seemed well, till the night of Thursday.Trouble came from a neighbouring city. The Babri Masjid was demolished and fire broke out in the city of hearts.

The mohallah decided to stay unaware and unaffected, but the flame had already made way through the once colorful gallis. They became cautious. Then they started bitching. Then petty fights came in. Finally, one struck the other. And after two days of hatred, revenge and bloodshed, Ram’s devotee Ramcharan decided to break ties with Rahim’s followers.

Bad news spreads faster. The call off became the talk of the Mohallah. And it brought home shame to Hassan’s little shack. Chand khaala cursed Ramcharan’s family. Hassan’s silence spelt anger. And swore revenge.

The days passed. Bahadur was not allowed to get out of his shed anymore. It was unsafe to allow such a money churning machine to roam in free. Atleast that’s what Ali felt. After all hadn’t he found the tinker bell lying in Abba’s wallet one day when he was trying to rob some money for a few ice candies? And hadn’t Lajjo gone missing three days after the marriage was called off?

Finally came a day when Bahadur was found dead. There was a little blood oozing out of his mouth.And while they were taking him to the burial ground,amidst his tear, Ali saw a glazed fragment of orange sweet near Bahadur’s grass.

And life went on in the Mohallah, without Bahadur and Lajjo.

UNSPOKEN

I saw a God this morning
Seated in a beggar’s needy bowl
With few worn pennies for company.
And I asked him- Did you pay your carrier his price?
God didn’t answer my question.
As the day progressed,
And the sun was about to set;
Its last rays lit the beggar’s bowl
And my eyes met some new pennies that accompanied that God
And then I knew- Who was the carrier?
Strange answer…But then Gods are like that.