Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Story- part 2

"Amma, Amma, where are you?" I shout with a shivering tone as I wake up suddenly from a nightmare. My mom rushed into my room, held me in her arms and enquired if i was dreaming something dreadful. When I nodded for "yes" I could barely snap out of the dream and couldn't let go my mom's hand from my grip. All her soothing words -- you are alright, it's just a dream, I am with you, papa is here too-- just didn't register in my mind.

"Neha", a loud voice fill my room and make me jolt into reality at last. It wasn't my mom for sure and I hear my name being called again and I finally see a familiar face enter my room. " Pallavi!?", I exclaim.  "What is she doing here" I say to my mom finally letting her hand go off my grip.

Before she can answer me, I say "Pallavi, How are you?, aren't you supposed to get ready to school?".  To which she retorted " it is half past 9 in the evening" and went silent. Wow that means I slept only for 3 hours and thought it's morning already. Silly me.But something was strange about Pallavi. She is not the demure maiden type who just answers to the question. She has a misplaced soul of a man's comical timing and contagious energy, in a 16 year old female body. She should chide me about my lost sense of keeping track of time and fill me up with her latest gossip about other school kids.

Mom left us both in my room to answer a phone call which apparently was from my brother. But my thoughts continued.

Pallavi  and I are friends since kindergarten. Both our families have know each other since then. We went to same classical dance classes, singing classes and tennis classes. Although she couldn't continue her singing lessons because of her episode with the teacher. Pallu ( as I call her) has this itch to prove her point and in this incident she wanted to prove that the teacher had made a mistake in the notes of Jhampa Thalam but the teacher condemned. The debate grew and consequently Pallu was dismissed from that session and subsequently from all the sessions. But Pallu declared to her parents that singing was not for her and hence she choose to withdraw from classes.

Truth to be told is that the teacher made a mistake that day, which she doesn't do everyday. But Pallu corrected her and she could not take the fact that a student corrected her in a basic Thalam.

This reminiscence  made me smile a bit and thought she must have bought  notes for me from the math class that I missed today. "Pallu, how did the class go today and did Joe missed it again? What's the latest on Sam?"

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Story- Part 1

I was right there returning from grocery shopping, walking along the road under the dimness of city lights. The street was buzzing with plethora of voices. This day, my mom insisted that I go grocery shopping right after my math tuition which ended at 7:00pm after an hour long lecture and a sample test. It was my elder brother's routine to shop for groceries bi-weekly. Since he was away from home last week, the duty fell into my lap. Not that i complain, but the fact that I had to witness that particular incident make me sick to my stomach every time I remember it.

A week had passed since that incident took place. Today, again I am suppose to ride that way on my bicycle to attend my tuition. I decide to pretend sickness so my mom and dad would not force me to go. As I lay on my bed tossing and turning around, modulating my vocal chords to deliver pain filled sounds, my mom rushed into my room and took me into her arms and stroke against my forehead where I pointed out being painful. She summoned the maid to get some Zandu Balm and some milk. After being rubbed with the ice-cold, minty, tear-prone balm, my mom left the room advising me to drink the milk before it turns cold.
As soon as she left the room, I wiped my eyes, hurried to close the door and overheard mom explaining the situation to dad who has just come home from his work.

As planned my parents fell into my "sick kid" trap.  But walking towards the bed, a different kind of pain, a pain of guilt, hit me hard. Sitting on the bed I turned the television on and started watching pogo. Emptied milk in the glass into my gut and started watching Mr. bean to forget the day's anxiety and guilt that prevailed in my head.