"This is the story of a girl, who cried a river and drowned the whole world, and while she looked so sad in photographs, I absolutely love her, when she smiles."
She was watching TV, singing along to the Spongebob title song. Her parents were fighting again, she immediately quieted down when they entered the room. Her mother turned to her, "The rice is in the pressure cooker, switch off the gas after the last whistle has blown, I'll be back in a hour. Don't trouble your father."
She nodded quietly, well aware of how she was supposed to react to such a situation. She turned back to the blaring TV.
"Turn down the volume", he screamed. She obediently lowered the volume. One hour later, the phone rang, he picked up and began to speak to her mother on the other line. "I want to talk to mom too.", she said excitedly.
"No."
"Please please please."
"No."
"But why not?"
"I said so, that's why." A number of resounding slaps followed.
"You all assume, I'm safe here in my room, unless I start to try again."
She was clearing away her desk, books stacked up and kept into the top drawer. Clothes sorted into piles and kept in the cupboard. She quickly slipped on a pair of earrings and walked towards the living room. "Dad, pocket money please.", she urged as she tried to towel off her wet hair.
"Which movie are you going to watch?, is fifty rupees enough?", her father quipped.
"How can fifty rupees be enough money for travelling and buying a movie ticket?"
"You think that you've been born to very rich parents? We aren't related to Tata or Ambani."
"It's a morning show, so the tickets will be cheap and two hundred rupees doesn't make anybody a Tata or Ambani. If they were to go watch a movie, they'd watch it in Red Lounge for at least three hundred rupees. I won't get into the details."
"Wow, your generation really knows how to argue."
"Please mom, I'm getting late. Just be a little more realistic."
"Give her the money quickly, anyway this is just a guest house where she eats and sleeps, otherwise it's the phone or the computer. We're only good for money."
"I'm watching a movie after two whole weeks."
"You spend too much money."
"I'm getting late, please."
"Just give her the money and ask her to get lost, even if she stays at home, it won't make much of a difference."
She stands and listens to them to talk about her for a couple of minutes as though she isn't in the room, impatiently tapping her foot until her dad glares at her and gives her the money.
She walks out, tears dripping down her cheeks, dialling a number on her phone. "Hello.. Hii!.. Yeah, I've just left, I'll be standing near that corner store.. Okay, leave quickly.. Byeee" She takes a deep breath and walks out of her house.
A year later, the same scenario::
She was picking away at stray ends on the bed-spread. Her phone rings, "Hello.. Hii!.. Yeah, you've left? .. Oh, I guess I'm ready.. Just give me five minutes, I'll be out.. Byee"
"Dad, pocket money please.", she urged as she bent to extract a pair of slippers from the cupboard.
"Which movie are you going to watch?, is fifty rupees enough?", her father quipped.
"50 rupees isn't enough."
"You think that you've been born to very rich parents? We aren't related to Tata or Amabani."
"I know that."
"Your real parents have managed to earn a lot of money, unfortunately we haven't."
"It doesn't make a difference."
"Now she doesn't even try to speak to us."
"It is of no use."
"I won't bequeath my money to you when I die."
"It's your money, do whatever you want to with it."
He thrusts the money towards her, she takes it and quietly leaves, not even glancing backwards.
Another year later, the same scenario::
She looks at the dried ends of the nail polish on her finger-nails, lost in thought. Her phone rings, "Hiiiii!.. Yeah, why not?.. I just don't want to stay at home... It's so boring... Hahahaha.. We're totally going to do that... Okay, seeya soon.. Byeee!"
"Dad, pocket money please.", she says.
"I'm not in a good mood, you should go outside and stay there till late. I don't want any fights at home today."
"Okay."
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to meet.. "
"You do know that the watchmen are being paid to keep an eye on us.", he interrupts.
"Why on earth would anybody do that?"
"All of them have got an eye on us, they're just waiting to cause trouble."
"I'm getting late."
"Will you say the same thing when my body is being cremated?"
She looks him straight in the eye without uttering a word. He gives her the money, she walks off.
When she comes home, she sees that her father has her mother in a death grip. She tries to stop him and gets slapped twice across the face. Her parents continue to argue, screaming at each other. She looks at them with vacant eyes, not really listening to them. The rushing sound of the wind loud in her ears, her cheeks stinging from the slaps, until she hears her own name.
"I've been in a bad mood since morning, she is just extracting money from us. There will be nothing left for us in our old age."
"It happens, only those who earn can understand the real value of money."
"What value? Apart from my pocket money, I watch two-three movies a month. Also, I take cash for my cell-phone."
"I bought my engagement ring for twenty-five rupees."
"That happened in the 1960 or 1970's."
"She ruined my mood, that's why all this has happened. Now all our enemies are going to be happy about our misfortunes."
"You make no sense."
"Don't be so rude, he'll throw us out of his house if you act too smart."
"I'm going to sell this house, we'll move away and then you can't meet any of your friends."
"One thing has no connection to the other."
"Shut up, you talk too much."
She was silenced with a blow.
Another year passes by.
She is reading a book, lost in the pages of somebody else's life. Her phone rings, "Hiii!.. Yeah, why not?".. I know, right?"... "Okay, I'll be there in fifteen."
"Dad, pocket money please."
"When will you be back?"
"I'm just going to.."
"You know, Akshara is getting married to Naitik today." he interrupts.
"It sounds wonderful, but I don't care."
"Didn't you take today's pocket money already?"
"Please. Don't."
"Didn't she already take today's pocket money?"
"Dad, please."
She takes the money and walks out of the house.
A couple of days later, she is sitting at home and listening to music on her phone.
"Where is your dad?"
"Didn't he go out to get something an hour ago?"
"His phone is switched off, it's been two hours since he left."
"His battery must have run out, he will be on his way home."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, what else could it be?"
"We did have a fight before he left."
"Oh shit, now?"
"Wait and watch, what else?"
It's 1:00 in the night, the doors are open, the flies are buzzing about, the moon is golden in colour.
Both of them are frantic, listening for footsteps. Suddenly, their ears perk up as they hear a familiar shuffling of slippered feet. When they look at him, he smirks.
"Why are you both looking so worried? Can't I go and watch a movie sometime?"
"Without informing us?"
"I'm the head of the family."
"Dad, you just have to tell us that you're going out, you can't disappear like that."
"The head of the family also has certain responsibilities, not just lording over us."
"Stop acting like you actually care, none of you are getting any part in my will."
He brushes past them.
Another year passes by.
She is looking at the rocket-ship on the adjacent wall. Her phone rings, "Hii.. Yeah, actually I'm not feeling well... Can't make it, sorry.. Yeah yeah, I really wanted to watch that movie. This sucks... Okay, have fun... Byeeee."
Another year passes by.
She is looking at the work-material on her desk, underlining and re-checking the details in her journal. Her phone sits silently by.
Is it better to burn out than to fade away?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I don't know what's worth fighting for,
or why I have to scream?,
But now I have some clarity,
to show you what I mean."
Emotions that usually well up have all by themselves have numbed, soured and turned into an ugly mess. Witnessing a sweet exchange between two friends or lovers is probably something that she enjoys looking upon from a great distance, from far away, very far away.
A desire to possess that kind of rapport with somebody has leached away.
It's all draining away slowly.
"Heyy, how are you?"
"I'm good, you?"
"Want to meet up?"
"Yeah, sure."
"How about at the mall?"
"Malls are boring."
"Oh, lol! How about the beach then?"
"The beach is a beautiful place. I don't want to go with you. You've turned ugly, from the inside."
"Oh okay. I'll come over as usual then."
"Fine."
There has never been a dearth of negativity in people's lives. Overcoming that negative and highlighting the positive aspects of life is the main challenge. Suddenly, the challenge seems to have disappeared.
It's a hollow that is more or less like a black hole that sucks itself inwards such that it's just one free-falling downward spiral.
It's all stopped making sense.
All the fears, doubts that were suppressed in a search for something much more whole-some seem to be pouring out of her.
She had asked somebody once, "When do you think I will reach an exploding point?" It's coming closer and closer now.
She had also asked somebody, "How long until I manage to keep the insane bit of me alive and breathing?" Simply put, the essence of laughter is insanity.
"Why have you become so serious nowadays?, You've become so wary, from the jovial and bubbly person you were."
All the changes started occurring of their own accord, it was only when her friends started noticing them, that she realized that she was crumbling from inside, bit by bit.
One of the changes that she noticed very obviously was her glaring need to talk about herself, especially her past, over and over, to different people.
It made absolutely no sense.
Why this sudden urge to reach out?
Not even as a cry for help, rather as a final rant before all the screams and complaints subsided into the quiet of the hole that was slowly submerging her.
All the happy-go-lucky camaraderie that she usually enjoyed with her friends was on it's way out. Right from the uninhibited laughter to the jealousy to the wistfulness to the smile that reaches right to the eyes.
It was being blown away, like the loose pages from an old notebook. A whirl of emotions, thoughts and beliefs from the past that were descending farther and farther away from her in the same way that a feather might descend to the ground.
She was craving for normalcy- the positive as well as the negative aspects.
Or then again, maybe she wasn't.
"It's easier to run,
replacing this pain with something numb,
it's so much easier to go,
than face all this pain here all alone.
Something has been taken from deep inside of me,
the secret I've kept locked away no one can ever see,
wounds so deep they never show they never go away,
like moving pictures in my head for years and years they've played."
"Death ends a life, not a relationship."
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