Time

The next morning found her standing at the bus stop. It had been about 10 minutes, but to T it seemed like an hour in the sweltering heat...It was a hot humid day in May when hot air rose from the street and the glare from windows of the cars stuck in traffic gleamed silver. She glanced at her watch again, it was 10:30 am again, the watch had stopped working yet again...She sighed in defeat, what's the deal with her and her watches, every single one of them would give up on her after a while....she was sick and tired of getting them repaired, for they would stop before long....She was wondering whether she ought to catch the train, she must have missed her bus...her thoughts were interrupted by the wails of the madwoman who lived on the pavement by the bus stop, she wasn't really in pain she just liked to curse at people passing by as she went about her chores, like chopping vegetables or cooking or cleaning, T could understand her misery, who would be happy living out on the street, living your live in front of strangers and in such heat!!! But she couldn't really sympathize with the woman now when she was screaming obscenities at everyone on the street...Suddenly she spotted a red blur about a few feet away from her, she hadn't missed her bus after all....

Travelling to work had never been very interesting somehow for T (though the air conditioning inside was a big relief from the heat), she listened to the radio and stared out as images kept flashing by her window. She never had any real conversation with her fellow travelers, everyone seemed to her like they belonged to an army of drones...so she was surprised when a man with graying hair at the temples sitting right behind her asked her what time it was, she couldn't hear him at first, but he made sure she did, by tapping on her shoulder to catch her attention. She was at first a little flabbergasted as she glanced her watch to realize once again that time had stopped at 10:30 am for her, she smiled sheepishly at him, “I am so sorry my watch has stopped, I'll take it off...” she added almost to herself fumbling at her catch of the watch, the man smiled back at her, “Time has never been my friend as well, don't worry...”, she smiled feeling uncomfortable, what an odd thing to say! She frowned, putting away her wrist watch for good, she hugged her backpack to her chest and settled herself in the seat, “When did you first notice?”, the man was looking at her with a curious expression, “Excuse me?” she couldn't help being curt, pulling the headphone out of her right ear, what did he mean? He looked piercingly into her eyes, “When did you first notice there was something wrong with time?”, T was completely taken aback, what a psycho! “I am sure I don't know what you mean...my watch stopped working this morning”, she shrugged her shoulders. He seemed satisfied with what she said, and relaxed back in his seat. She sighed, maybe it was the heat, driving people crazy, mad women on the streets screaming and mad men inside the bus asking god knows what! T forgot about the man as she listened to Cindi Lauper softly singing,

“Then you say - go slow,

I fall behind -The second hand unwinds...”

It almost took an hour for her to reach her destination, getting out in the heat was quite a daunting task, she took out her umbrella as she got down the bus. When the bus passed her by she saw the man with graying hair at his temples staring at her through the glass, she looked away feeling uneasy, what was that all about? Her phone started ringing, she glanced at the number, couldn't recognize it, decided to let it ring...enough talking to strangers for a day! 

She didn't have much to do at work. It was a long tedious day, everyone went about their business as usual....it was much later that afternoon when she was hit with the same bizarre feeling she had been feeling for quite sometime now...looking at the series of tube lights down the corridor as she was filling her water bottle from the cooler everything seemed unreal somehow, as if floating in mid air....she shook her head, maybe she was feeling dizzy because of the mid day heat...she could hear the clock ticking the seconds away on the wall facing her...it was a strange moment, suspended in time when nothing seemed real...and then it was gone, like a faint spell of dizziness....her phone started ringing again, it was the same unknown number, she frowned at the screen, didn't pick up again...She left a bit early that day, thought of repairing her watch again...the shop was just across the street near her office, in fact she got most of her watches from that particular show room itself, but these days she spent more time on repair jobs than anything else...she often thought of buying a new watch, one with the latest design and all, lovely and sleek but never got around to buying one. The woman at the counter knew T quite well, she smiled at her and raised her eyebrows, “you want to repair it again?, T smiled wistfully, “Well..I don't know what else to do!”. She went ahead with the paper work putting the faulty piece of machinery in a plastic container, asking T to wait....T sat herself on the couch thinking why didn't she buy herself a new watch? What was so hard about breaking routine? In recent times, all her days seemed the same, all merging into the same shapeless mass, there seemed to be the disturbing undercurrent of things being meaningless, unreal...What if the man on the bus, the mad woman on the street were the anomalies in the otherwise perfect mundane system, anomalies which disrupted the smooth nothingness that her life had become...The woman at the counter was calling her name, T seemed shaken by the trail of her thoughts...

“How much?” T asked reaching for her watch, “No charges my dear.” The woman smiled at her sadly, “Some things can't be fixed.” T stared at her, what did she mean? She mumbled her thanks and went on her back home. The evening was much cooler, a gentle breeze soothed her prickly nerves...the city enjoyed a brief spell of respite from the heat, although the next day would be as hot as it was today and the day after would be the same....a repetitive cycle that she seemed to caught in, like a glitch in time....She couldn't shake this thought that something seemed off with her world lately, something was not quite right....She went to bed that night trying to make sense of it all but her brain was too tired to function and soon she was fading into the darkness....

The next morning found her standing at the bus stop...It had been about 10 minutes, but to T it seemed like an hour in the sweltering heat...It was a hot humid day in May when hot air rose from the street and the glare from windows of the cars stuck in traffic gleamed silver. She glanced at her watch again, it was 10:30 am again, the watch had stopped working yet again...She sighed in defeat, what's the deal with her and her watches, every single one of them would give up on her after a while....she was sick and tired of getting them repaired, for they would stop before long....

“If you're lost you can look - and you will find me

Time after time
If you fall I will catch you - I'll be waiting
Time after time....
Time after time
Time after time
Time after time....

...Time after time"

Hokum

Often these days I feel blinded and dazed,

Flooded with the cold light of scrutiny..

The one judging me, is none other than me,

Which is quite an irony...

So I try to look away..

But I feel drawn to look, at this grueling image of self dismay!

As my eyes settle to the piercing light,

I see clearer...

Self-knowledge and objectivity is not such an burden..

I realise that even as I look away.

No truth is absolute, no fact set in stone.

In a world of changing and intermingling faces, I think I like mine the best.

Deranged?

It was raining that morning, as she walked to her office, a rain of soft mist that caressed her skin...She decided to ditch the umbrella and enjoy the fresh feel of wind and water. The walk was hardly five minutes from the bus stop, but it seemed longer and pleasant somehow. Cars whooshed passed her, spraying mud in a fine curtain. She regretted wearing a white cotton suit today, what made her choose such an outfit on such a day was a complete mystery. The thought passed gently away with the
wind, it was too beautiful a morning to fret about mud and stains, she reasoned with
herself...and also too beautiful to be spoiled by....
A car honked by, startling her from her reverie, she was grateful, she didn't need to complete that train of thought...that lead to very dark places...She focused instead on the day ahead, since her work place was near now, she had almost reached the gate. She had a dull day of work to look forward to, same billing and accounting, filling books and ledgers, of course everything was computerized these days....Yet it was better than dwelling in the dark corners of her mind...She seated herself at her cubicle
with a cup of coffee, and started working on the files she had left yesterday. Her husband had gone on a work trip, her family lived elsewhere, she would have to return to an empty flat...which was fine otherwise, she liked being by herself, but these days, she never felt alone...the coffee left a bitter taste in her mouth, she felt her throat drying up in a hurry, she struggled to her feet to get that glass of water.....She felt better after a glass or two, and made up her mind to concentrate only on the numbers on the desk, but wait a minute, does the corridor seem to grow and shrink at the same time? She shook her head in confusion...
“Hello there!! Early today?” It was Shekhar, her colleague, a leech in human form, always looking for ways to dump his work on her but always pretending to be her only friend. She smiled back gratefully, at least the momentary lapse to wonder land had passed because of him. Sometimes, the worst of people, unwittingly would do you such a favour!
“Well, had nothing much to do at home anyway, with Manoj away...”
“Oh right, right...I was wondering if you could help me with these files today....” His voice trailed off, she found her gratefulness turning into annoyance quickly. Oh the rat bastard!!! Before she could answer, the phone at her desk started to ring in a shrill mono-tone. She quickly held up a finger indicating him to wait for a bit, and ran to her desk.
“Hello?” She gasped into the phone. There was no answer, or was there? A faint, guttural breathing on the other end....She felt her body go cold, it was him or he was it!!! The scary phone calls she had been getting lately, ever time when she was alone....He didn't speak, no threats or anything, but just the sound of the rasping, raw breathing, would drive her insane....She was getting worse with each phone call, her mind slipping quietly inch by inch into the dark...
“Who was it?” Shekhar asked, looking at her curiously. It was HIM!!! She wanted to shout...but didn't risk that, instead just shrugged her shoulders in a non-committal way. “Didn't want us to know, it seems...” she put down the receiver gingerly, “You were saying?”
The morning passed sluggishly, the rain now falling relentless, leaving all pretense of gentleness...It was still dark out towards noon, and soon it was time for lunch. Usually she would get her lunch from home, but today she had forgotten to pack her food, since it was a late morning for her, staying awake till the wee hours of the day....imagining his face in every shadow...she shivered uncontrollably. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and given the amount of strain she was under, she couldn't help but scream and scream and scream....It was wasn't him, of course, it was the leech, visibly shaken and totally shocked. It was a small sense of satisfaction to scare the shit out of the leech, but yet she felt so cold, cold....
“What is the matter with you?!” He exclaimed, bewildered.
“Oh, nothing...just a little jumpy, I guess, haven't been sleeping well lately....”
“Oh okay....you are not being stalked by some psycho, are you?” The leech thought that was rather funny, and laughed in short husky barks. She looked at him, appraisingly, should she tell him, should she let him in her dark secret, that there was indeed a dark mind behind all this...
“What do you know about this?” she demanded roughly. He looked at her with genuine surprise, “What do you mean? You mean are you really being stalked or something?” She decided not to tell him after all, what good is a leech outside of primitive medical practices? She laughed then, at herself, at the bleak, bleak situation and the stupid “effing” leech!!! He seemed to have bought the lie, bitten the bait, the hook and all...well and good!! Her thoughts were losing some of their clarity, if the history of a day such as this was ever written, it would document her slow slow descent into madness and chaos...what a laugh! What a lark!! She had to stop her thoughts from running wildly, like a bunch of bad hyenas, laughing and running, laughing and running...It was his frank curiosity that awakened her, rather shook her, otherwise she was on the ride to the “la-la” land...
“What is it?” he gently shook her shoulders. She smiled then, sheepishly. “Nothing, nothing at all!!”
Time is so funny, sometimes years pass by and nothing of significance occurs, yet in few days time such sinister events develop....She remembered him from her childhood days, he would play hide and seek, but you couldn't catch him of course, he was long gone like the mysterious cat Macavity...

“You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in the air—
But I tell you once and once again, Macavity's not there!”

Frankly, she had about enough of this shit, if he decides to show his face, she would be ready for him. The day had turned to be the wettest day of the month, and the rain showed no signs of letting down. She would get stains on her pristine white outfit, oh what a day, a lovely, lovely day!!! It was him, she knew, in her mind, playing tricks, planting ideas, her thoughts had betrayed her....again. She reached home around eight, wet and grumpy, her white suit ruined, such a rain couldn't be withheld by a mere umbrella...Manoj had asked her again and again, to get a driver's license and to use the car....she couldn't trust herself behind wheels, her thoughts were never her own...Jangling of the keys, followed by creaking of the door, and she was home...alone and it was dark....She switched on the light.

Following morning, the sky had cleared, and the air was crisp and cool. Rays of sunshine warmed her face, tinting them with a soft rose glow. She awoke with a smile, stretched her limbs lazily...her hands...her hands were red? With blood? All traces of sweet slumber disappeared from her face, oh God, did he hurt her? She stood up shakily from her bed, the sheets were streaked with clotted blood, maroon and red....her knees felt so weak and wobbly, she couldn't stand on her feet anymore, and fell down in one quick motion...started crawling towards the bathroom...I need to get rid of the stains....OH the STAIN!!!!! The memory came tumbling back...it was him last night, he had come into the light, the ordinariness of him infuriated her, her ghost, was a thin man with balding head...and somehow she had lost it, hurt him and her...oh the PAIN!!! and the shame.....
“What's wrong, dear?” She looked up from the wash basin, startled by her reflection, she looked like an hunted animal with crazy eyes...Manoj stood at the bath room door, with his morning tea on one hand...Oh what a strange world, the crazy and the sane in juxtaposition...She looked at her hands, they were clean! She turned to face him, guiltily, “Oh nothing, nothing at all...”
“But I heard you scream?” He looked confused, her dear silly husband....She just smiled, hoping it was answer enough, “You must have been mistaken...” She remembered the sheet, and darted out into the bedroom, and they were clean, sparkly clean, she signed, relieved, she hated stains after all...but what happened to her ghost-man? Where did he disappear?

“At whatever time the deed took place—MACAVITY WASN'T THERE !”

The concept of me

"These days I just can’t seem to say what I mean. I just can’t. Every time I try to say something, it misses the point. Either that or I end up saying the opposite of what I mean. The more I try to get it right the more mixed up it gets. Sometimes I can’t even remember what I was trying to say in the first place. It’s like my body’s split in two and one of me is chasing the other me around a big pillar. We’re running circles around it. The other me has the right words, but I can never catch her."

-- Haruki Murakami

Everyday when I leave home, I choose the clothes I wear and my thoughts, and my belief...

The kind of mask I don on is quite fluid and mobile,

It becomes the very essence of me, at least for a while.

The confusion comes at the very end of the day,

When I am not sure of what I am today.

What to believe as my own,

when I can assume any identity I am shown.

It's quite like this thought I get each day,

When I look at myself in the mirror...

Is it me staring back or merely a reflection? 

Azure

Through the sunlit corridors, the dream came back to her.....she remembered waking up restless but the essence of it gradually slipped away with morning light. It had been five years since she left the world outside these walls, she didn't miss much, she didn't need to, the medications gave her a false sense of peace. She had another session with her doctor today, she didn't look forward to it....the talks brought back memories of a different life, a different time.

To imagine an asylum in a place like Goa was quite incongruous, but in the Institute of Psychiatry and Human Behaviour, on the outskirts of Panaji, the health of its patients are taken very seriously. So amidst the picturesque beaches and the quaint roads of North Goa, it was ironic to find a Institute quite like any asylum anywhere....She couldn't really complain about the place, a modern building but it had wide open spaces. One couldn't really hear the sea, but she would often hear the vacant cry of the seagulls and the waves breaking against the shore....she could almost see the wide expanse of the sea, blue and infinite. Maybe it was the medications that gave her such vivid images while the life around seemed dull and colourless. Later in the afternoon, she was ushered from her gentle world of reverie to the harsh bright reality of her analyst's chamber.

"Did you have the dream again?" She looked at him, puzzled that he had felt the need to ask her the same question everyday but she supposed any doctor would ask the most inane questions as if to make one feel better which of course didn't work, at least in her case. "Yes," she murmured, dreading the next query.

"Could you describe it for me?"

Sure she could, but she didn't really understand how that would help her.

It was the same corridor, except it was washed of all colour...are dreams in monochrome? She saw herself laughing, holding the hand of a small child, a boy with soft blue eyes. They ran through the corridor, the walls dissolving behind them, she could hear the sea beyond them....

"So you were leading him to the sea?"

She nodded, struggling to fit in the harshly lit office with her soft light washed dream.

They were on the shore, the sea was blue and deep, quite inviting, the tangy smell of salt and fish mingled with the shrieks of the sea gulls, tantalizing...she was teaching him how to swim, she could see how much he enjoyed the sea, as much as she did...and then there was a gap in her memory, everything seemed blurred and faded...
"But this is new, you remember teaching him how to swim?"

She nodded again and then she was struck by a sudden image, less fractured than before....

It was the same boy, now grown, almost a man but still a boy, laughing with his friends in the sea...and then it was all blue, as if engulfed by a gigantic wave....
"Would would like to talk some more?"

She looked up, remembering those laughing eyes, "He dies, right? Is that how it ends?" she asked resiliently, her voice shaking.

"Who dies?" Again a redundant question but necessary.....how?

"He dies..." She remembered him now, his soft palm in her hand, tugging at her heart,"My son..."


The picture was complete now, she knew why she was here and why she dreamt of the same thing every night...she didn't know yet why she was made to remember and relive them again, the lost moments, the gaps in her memory...a vicious cycle of repression, medication and therapy...she was awake for now but for how long? Maybe the dream won't haunt her anymore, or would it?


"To sleep: perchance to dream"- Hamlet

Vanilla

She woke up to a bleak morning filled with shrieks of the alarm clock and blares of the traffic outside. It was still early, but the city followed the age old truism of going to bed early and starting the day very early. She made her way to the kitchen, putting the kettle on, and brushing her teeth. Housewives are adept at multitasking but somehow time was always running out. Next few hours passed in a daze, getting breakfast ready, the maid had taken the day off which meant dirty dishes at the sink and more clothes which needed washing...her son, was especially lazy and difficult in the mornings and her husband, indifferent, like always. It was only after eleven she could find some time to enjoy her tea, with the newspaper. Though that didn't cheer her up much either, every other day she would catch sight of some depressing incident or other, some one killed, or robbed or molested...everyday it seemed to her that existence was so futile and meaningless, if there couldn't be a philosophy behind this perpetual grind, at least there could be some flavour....every day, day after day, so bland, so vanilla.....

She remembered those early years of marriage and moving into the the rented flat, right in the heart of Calcutta, near Chandni Chowk Metro....the first flush of romance like the bitter sweet chocolate...lately every bit of the aftertaste is gone, not even faded, just gone...she didn't find joy in her son anymore, he was too much of a brat. Though, he wasn't completely to blame, her in-laws pampered him too much and she was too tired to undo the damage...so he grew with the false sense of belief that the world revolved around him and his snotty demands...she smirked thinking that it won't be too long before he would realize the hard truth...She bit her lip, it wasn't healthy to have such terrible thoughts about her own son, her flesh and blood, but she couldn't help blaming him somehow for creating such a rift between them....it must be that, initially believing her son to be her salvation she had poured all her energy into his well being, then suddenly realizing she had lost so much in the bargain...was it worth all the pain, she wondered at times. The bell rang, interrupting her reverie. It was the maid, “Boudi, astey dayri hoye gaylo (Boudi, sorry I got late)...”

After the late noon lull, the frenzy of the morning resumed in full force, school was over but it was her duty to make her son sit down for homework post lunch. Before long, the nosy kakimas and jethimas (aunts) of the apartments next door would come for tea and some mundane chit chat. The same old gossips and how they disapproved of everything and everyone.... “Tui boddo chup chap thakis re aj kal, Arpita, kichu hoyechey (you are too quiet these days)? Sujoy asheyni akhono (When is Sujoy coming)?” one of her “well wishers” asked masking her glee in false concern. She wondered if these people had also led to the chasm that had engulfed her marriage, maybe if she had been less polite, the neighbours wouldn't hound at her doorstep every evening and she would get some time with her husband....

The reasons were many yet none, but the fact was one, she never felt so alone before....She had built a house around the three of them, and now it seemed she was the only one inhabiting it...Sujoy had his own space and her son, lived in his own world. The phone rang, it was her mother...she seemed so querulous, Arpita regretted missing out on her fortnightly visits...but she felt terrified whenever she visited her mother, she was so old and so alone...sometimes Arpita feared she would end up like her, though her father had been dead for long, the lonely days of her mother had started early, she could understand her mother better now, the signs were always there. The bell rang again, it was Sujoy.

“Uff, era abar chole ascheychey (Uff! They are here again!)” he whispered, grabbing her arm roughly, “eder tara tari katao bole dichhi, roj roj er keyton (you must get rid of them, such nuisance everyday)!!” He stormed off to the bedroom. She stared at his retreating form, blinking nervously. She made some excuse for him to them, like she did everyday and then went to the kitchen to fetch more tea. As she went to the bedroom to give him his tea, he caught hold of her arm again, this time he was gentle.

“We need to talk.” He whispered urgently. She was surprised, “Can't it wait? They will be gone soon..” She was about to the put the tray down. He glanced outside, irritated and strangely nervous. She decided to hear him out. “They could hear us you know, the walls are thin, if this is really important, it wouldn't be nice if they heard us...” She sat herself on the bed. He signed, clearly in agony, he knew how much she hated having her emotions bared in front of people, how alike they were in that aspect...But he needed to tell her, so he took a deep breath and spit out some words. At first she couldn't make anything of it...she knew that he was under tremendous pressure at work but his promotion was long due and they were thinking of shifting to a new apartment, their own this time, near Behala. But why would he want her to keep this rented place, and what was he trying to tell her....She stood up suddenly, toppling over the tray by the bedside table, which crashed with a loud clank, shattering the glassware. He was leaving her! For some someone else! She screamed then, the words hitting home, not caring for the thin walls and the vultures outside...she ran into the kitchen, bolting the door.

Sujoy was transfixed, he stared open mouthed at the kitchen door. The kakimas came rushing in, “Ki hoyechey? Ki hoyechey (what's wrong)?” And then there was chaos...everyone of the tenants had assembled in the small room somehow in half an hour...there was so much noise and so many people trying to figure out what needed to be done...Sujoy was in a mess, and his son was traumatized....they wondered if Arpita had hung herself or was she planning to ingest poison or had dramatically slit her throat...the slow evening had turned into a nightmarish ride...with people and faces, and yet the kitchen door was determinedly shut, eerily quiet. An hour passed, the the door remained shut. Sujoy was forced to call the local police station. He twisted his hand in anguish....No amount of knocking, pleading, threatening and banging had proved effective...there was only one way out... “Break it open” The old uncle said, powerful emotions raging in his voice, “Bhenge de re...” The flood gates broke down, people hurled themselves at the door which initially creaked in protest, finally giving in...

There she sat on the floor, unharmed and unmoved, her arms around her knees...she had a strange smile on her lips, the same “Monalisa” smile women have at times....claiming her victory over him.

“Mona lisa, Mona lisa, men have named you,
You're so like the lady with the mystic smile,
Is it only 'cause you're lonely they have blamed you?
For that Mona lisa strangeness in your smile?”

-Nat King Cole  

The cure for madness...

Today when walking down the street, I saw a madman.
He had no clothes, he had no shame,
And a head of filthy hair to tame...

What gave him this sense of elation and joy?
This thrill of being free of shame and coy?
People stared at him, wondered at his state...
Laughed at him, then felt sorry and even pitied his fate.

Did he really care, this madmen for our worries and sympathy?
Would he even grace us with a glance?
What had put him in such a trance?
Was it some extreme ecstasy or some terrible loss?
I wondered, watching him from the street, across.

I quite envied him,
What fun would it be to give in to every whim!
Not to care about a thing,
Once could dance around and sing...
Yet watching him from this side of the fence,
I knew I could never leave this pretense...

I could never leave the ways of the madhouse I live in,
And let the madman inside me win.


“I have found both freedom and safety in my madness; the freedom of loneliness and the safety from being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in us.” 
-Kahlil Gibrain, The Madman