Tag: story

Morning, sunshine

I awake to the sound of my favourite music—to the rising tunes of a strumming guitar. I snooze. It’s ok, I tell myself, for I’d worked late the previous night. I deserve more sleep. Before I know it, the alarm goes off again, this time more annoying than soothing. Sighing, I get up only to lean on the wall, palms resting on my chin. It doesn’t seem like a good morning.

As I force myself to brush my teeth and crack my knuckles, I feel a little more awake than before. Clinging on to that feeling, I begin my workout routine and feel better with each stretch. Now it’s starting to seem like a better morning. There’s still a long way to go, though.

Finishing my routine, I make a pot of coffee and slump into the chair—it’s browsing time. I scroll, without a second thought, through feeds and stories, watching but not caring about the lives of my connections and friends. It’s just a way to pass time while drinking coffee—nothing more, nothing less. Drowning the last of my coffee, I head for a shower. I let the cold water wash over me, feeling the heat evaporating as steam over hot cocoa. Soon, I’m ready for work. I plug in random trance music, as I leave, to help cope with the terrible walk to work.

With the slight buzz in my head, I reach office in a piece. I’m ready, sleep-deprived but not yet drooping, to face the day. Perhaps it is a good morning, I tell myself. I wave to my friend at the security desk, take the stairs two at a time, and arrive at my desk with work in mind. I prop up my laptop and open up the word editor—to write today’s blog.

Blank.

A morning. Blocked.

Chapter Forty: A Reunion

As the old and familiar college building loomed near, an undeniable sense of nostalgia cam over Praveena. She turned to look at Anil on the driver’s seat. He looked tense, concentrating on parking the car safely. He looked impassive, but Praveena knew that he too had run through their three years of college life in his head.

Once Anil had parked the car under a huge tree that bore his favourite yellow flowers, they got down, Praveena staring at the hauntingly unwelcome girls’ hostel building. They went over to the clerk who stood at the entrance, making note of all the students who would stay in the hostels. The current batch had left for the semester holidays, and the college appeared deprived of rushing sounds of hurried feet. Here and there stood old students in groups with parents and friends alike, chatting and catching up. With a lot of new faces, the whole crowd seemed a blur of unrecognizable colours.

Anil gave both of their names to the clerk. Once the process was done, Anil left for the boys’ hostel while Praveena headed over to the girls’. They had agreed to meet at the entrance in fifteen minutes. Walking towards the hostel Praveena had to cross the open valley facing the building. She thought back to the countless occasions she had sat on the lush grass enjoying the breeze with Anil and Niveda. She shuddered for a moment as the cold breeze ruffled her loosely tied hair.

The room she had shared with Niveda seemed so different to Praveena now. The beds were there, and so was the full-sized mirror facing the beds. But that was all that remained same of Praveena’s room. The walls she and Niveda had left plain were now taken over by posters, posters – Praveena realized painfully – of gods and – she slapped her forehead hard – child celebrities.

She looked around the room in despair. Her room – their room — had been contaminated. She didn’t want to stay here. It would pollute the unforgettable memories she had shared in that same room with Niveda.

She turned to leave. She would ask the warden for a change of room. But just as she turned towards the door, a powerful whiff of scent caught her unawares. She froze in mid-step. She knew that smell only too well. She turned, and on the dressing table was a can of talcum powder – the same brand Niveda had used.

Praveena didn’t know how she had caught the scent. It hadn’t been in the air when she came into the room, that she was sure of. ‘Then how did it suddenly spread?’ Praveena felt a chill in her spine. She had an inescapable feeling that Niveda was there, in the room, with her. Praveena wasn’t scared, but she didn’t believe in ghosts either.

She could however, sense Niveda. She had stayed in the same room for a year and a half after Niveda had committed suicide next to her bed, but it was the first time Praveena had felt like this; the feeling that her’s was not the only breathing. She stood there, unmoving, and not knowing why, but she waited. Praveena half expected Niveda’s form to materialize in front of her. Nothing happened for a while, until, Praveena’s phone rang, shattering the silence in the room.

She answered with fumbling fingers, “Hello?” she meant to be tentative and was surprised to hear it irritable.

“Hey!” Anil shouted from the other end. “Where are you? I’m waiting,” he said annoyed.

Praveena shook herself mentally, “Huh? Yeah, I’m coming.” she made to leave the room. As she shut the door behind her, she still felt the silence reverberating within the room. She signed, and turned towards the college building, wiping tears off her eyes.

“Where were you?” Anil exclaimed as she walked up to him. “What happened?” he added concerned as she reached his side. Praveena shook her head in response and Anil spoke of it no more. Together, they walked towards the parked Mercedes.

“Any plans?” Praveena asked Anil, her hand caressing the handle of the car.

“Yeah,” Anil said looking disconcerted. “Breakfast,” he smiled as she looked at him questioningly. Now that he had mentioned it, Praveena felt so hungry it surprised her how she hadn’t noticed it earlier.

She wondered if she should tell Anil about what had happened in the room, but decided against it. ‘It’s not a good time,’ her inner voice agreed with her. ‘He’d think you had gone mad with hunger.’

Anil had already gotten into the car and gestured her to follow suit. She got in silently, her stomach rumbling. She watched in silence as Anil manoeuvred the car from the parking spot and drove away from the college into the busy thronging town of Bangalore.

“You know,” she spoke after awhile, “for a moment there, I thought you’d suggest eating in the college canteen.” she smiled relieved.

Anil laughed, taking her by surprise. “Actually, they did plan it,” he said laughing harder at Praveena’s look of wide-eyed horror. “But we told them to spare the trouble,” he finished, still smiling.

Praveena shook her head. “So, where are we headed?” she asked impatiently. Neatly laid streets and rich cars did nothing to divert Praveena’s attention away from her growling stomach.

After what seemed like thirty minutes, Anil pulled by by a huge restaurant. Getting down he said, “You haven’t been here, have you? Great food.” nodding his appreciation. Praveena looked at the big board that hung over the restaurant. The Green Leaf. She rubbed her forehead exasperatedly, but said nothing.

The restaurant was packed, and looked just like the one in Chennai, Praveena realized. They took the table in the farthest corner.

Once they had ordered, Anil leaned over to her and asked, “Shall I order a juice? It’ll be good,” he tempted her with a wink. Praveena shook her head, smiling. “In fact Anil, it’s the Chennai Green Leaf that specializes in juices. Here, it’s the local Kannada cuisine.” she said smiling mockingly.

“Oh well,” Anil shrugged his admiration.

Chapter Thirty Eight: Insights

They were at the Green Leaf restaurant yet again. After a sleepless night of indecision, Praveena had surprised Ms Marrie early in the morning.

“I’m confused Miss,” she had said.

“Let’s meet up,” Ms Marrie had laughed.

Praveena arrived at the Green Leaf restaurant a little early. She mulled over on what she had to say as Ms Marrie arrived.

“It’s becoming kind of a tradition, isn’t it?” Ms Marrie laughed taking a seat.

Praveena nodded smiling slightly. “Am I taking too much of your time, Miss?” Praveena knew she was, but she asked the question anyway, more out of formality than anything else.

“Well yes,” Ms Marrie said seriously, making Praveena cower in shame. “But,” Ms Marrie added, “considering I’m advising a student,” she smiled at Praveena, “it’s alright.”

Praveena smiled in response before saying, “Thank you, Miss. You’re the best.”

“Let’s skip the embarrassing compliments, shall we?” Ms Marrie raised her eyebrows at Praveena. “What’s troubling you now, Praveena?” she asked concernedly.

Praveena appreciated the concern and time Ms Marrie had always given her. Every time she had wanted to clear her mind, Ms Marrie had been there for her listening without judgement.

“A friend called me the other day, and he mentioned he was a volunteer in an alcoholic anonymous society.” She paused to take a swig at her orange juice. The mid morning sunlight streamed into the restaurant through the heavy glass windows, reflecting and brightening the colour of Praveena’s orange juice. Ms Marrie listened, sipping on her grape juice. “After the chat, I thought of starting a self help group in our locality for drug addicts.” Praveena looked up at the still impassive Ms Marrie’s face. “What do you think Miss?”

Ms Marrie sighed frowning slightly. “I think this is not the source of your confusion.” she observed. Praveena smiled sheepishly, but as Ms Marrie said nothing else, she continued. “I told Pa about this, and he disagreed.” she finished sadly and added, “Unexpectedly.”

Ms Marrie nodded understandingly. “So that’s what’s bothering you.” she said seriously. “What did your father say, exactly?”

Praveena didn’t want to go over the details again. Just thinking about it had been painful enough, let alone saying it out to someone else.

“Well,” she hesitated. This wasn’t as easy as she had anticipated. “he was worried that he made a mistake giving me freedom.” She gulped, “and – er – he also said…” She told Ms Marrie of the conversation she had had with her father. She told her teacher everything, including an afterthought. “I guess he is worried I would get involved with those who do drugs.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe he doesn’t trust me.” Praveena was heart broken.

Ms Marrie had just raised her glass of juice to her lips. She placed it on the table and spoke gently, “I don’t think it’s a matter of trust, Praveena.”

“Perhaps,” Praveena replied, now a little doubtful, “but I can take care of myself,” she said earnestly.

“No doubt you can,” Ms Marrie replied confidently.

“Then what’s his problem?” Praveena asked in a slightly raised voice.

Ms Marrie had been drinking her juice. She drained it and smugly placed the glass on the table. “The juice here is good,” she observed smacking her lips.

“Huh?” Praveena stared at Ms Marrie surprised. How could Ms Marrie appreciate the juice when she was worrying about her father?

Smirking at Praveena’s astonished look, Ms Marrie said, “Think of it this way, Praveena. Why do you want to start this self help group in the first place?”

Praveena said nothing, waiting for Ms Marrie to finish her thought.

“Why?” Ms Marrie urged her with raised eyebrows.

“Er – ” Praveena thought. Could this be a question trap? “to help people – ” She stopped with that, but Ms Marrie still looked at her rather quizzically. She tried again, “To help people get over their addiction?” Praveena ended on a higher note, making a question out of a statement.

“Are you telling me or asking me?” Ms Marrie smiled crookedly.

“Er – I’m telling you.” Praveena responded quite uncertain, but giving a curt nod anyway.

Ms Marrie also nodded in approval. “Good.” She appreciated.

“What’s good?” Praveena asked, totally taken unawares.

“You are sure of what you want to do, even if you are not sure of how to do it,” Ms Marrie said, making Praveena put her hands on either side of her head. She continued smiling “You want to help people, but have you considered that these people you want to help, might actually not need it?” She spoke calmly, in a tone that one takes while reasoning with a troublesome first grader.

Praveena looked up at Ms Marrie, “What do you mean?” she asked perplexed.

“Look,” Ms Marrie explained wetting her lips, “Let’s just say, you find this drunkard. He gets drunk everyday and beats his wife wickedly.” Ms Marrie sighed before continuing, “you tell him true happiness lies in living in peace with his family, but all the happiness he knows comes from a bottle of alcohol. From his point of view, happiness is momentary. You may call him irresponsible, but he’s happy.”

Understanding dawned on Praveena’s face. Maybe Ms Marrie had a point, she thought as Ms Marrie continued, “Trying to help that kind of a person into recovery would only make him unhappy.” she shrugged.

Praveena thought about what Ms Marrie had said. She couldn’t disagree, but her inner voice wouldn’t completely agree either, “Not everyone’s like that though,” she said obstinately.

“That’s right,” Ms Marrie replied brusquely. “That’s only a possibility. Your father could be worried you would fail. It wouldn’t be easy for him, as a father.”

“Yeah,” Praveena took a deep sigh. She was still confused.