Timeless Reflections!: April 2010

A Call That Never Came; And A Call That Never Ceased To Come...!

1 comments Posted by Sashu... at 12:35 PM

Ever misunderstood. Never valued. His mind whirled, pausing at these often. Why was it that she never understood? Or, why wouldn't she even try to? He had no answers. It wasn't the first week of their relationship. It has been years, and yet why did he have to go trough the same round of cajoling and wooing, all over again, every time over again? It irked him.

Yes it did irk him, to no extent. But, not for the hours wasted, and not for the silliness. But for the reason that she never could accept him, or his love. She needed him like a drug - day in, day out. Not that he complained. But a little space, some alone time; thats all that he ever asks for. But then, things turn nasty, with all those tears flowing in. And his heart would melt, as though he could hold no more. And no matter what, he'd be on his knees, begging apology for her mistakes!

Lame, it all sounded to the listener. Stupid, it felt to the passive bystander. But he knew, there was more to it. He felt responsible at times. Maybe he fell short of her expectations. Maybe she wanted more. A lot more of maybes surrounded him, strangulating him. Why was it that the male brain's pride of sharp objectivity eluded him, whenever he thought of her? He had no answers.

The cellphone rang. He picked up her call, his mind still wandering on.

"Eh? Hmmm...Yeah..."

"What?"

"Hmmm...What where you saying?"

"Now what? What did I do?"

"Hey...Listen..."

Slam! Not again, he cursed under his breath. He could not understand why she had to hang up on him, for no reason. What was it this time, he wondered. Should he call back, or not, he debated. The idea of listening to the same old insecurities and the same old complaints did not lure him. He reached for his lap top and decided to surf the net.

He had dozed off. Startled by the call, he reached over and answered her. She seems normal, he thought. Maybe I needn't remind her of our morning call, he said to himself. He tested the waters asking of her day. She seemed not to be in her usual spirits, he gathered.And he decided to hang up before the fire starts, all over again.

"Listen dear, I have my exams coming up. I guess I'll go learn now. Was sleeping. Haven't studied anything..."

"You okay? Call me if anything. Take care"

Having hung up without a fight, he felt relieved. Grabbing his books, he walked over to his room. He felt calm. She remained as a faint backdrop to his memory, while his mind wandered through the books to the friends and the many million things that mattered to everyone of his gender. He placed his cell phone at an arm's distance though.

He knew that call would never cease to come!

She smiled to herself, as she woke up to a fresh new morning. She leaned to grab hold of her cellphone, hoping to find his text or a call she missed when he'd called while studying late night. None. It did prick her a little. Always did. But she shrugged it off her mind, deciding he must have been so engrossed in his studies. And mollified, she dialed his number. The silly goose was still sleeping, she mused to herself. Finally he picked up. Sleepyhead! He seemed irked at her waking him up, that too after half past eleven. Abrupt; almost rude. She couldn't help show off her frustration. She hung up, listening to his promise of calling back once he was showered and all ready for the day..or what remained of it.

She danced her way through the day. Awaiting his call, that never came. She tried hard to resist the urge to pick her phone and dial his number through. Time flicked by. With nothing left to do, she rang him up.

"Hello..Why didn't you call back?"

''What? Hmmm...Yeah? Tell me..."

"Great. Now you ask me what? Wonderful"

"I can't believe it. Cant you even listen to what I am saying?'

"Oh..Forget it."

Slam! Her eyes watered, she felt disappointed. Maybe he was fed up of her. Maybe he didn't care anymore. Her mind speculated various reasons for this daily behavior. She could reach no conclusion. Maybe I am overreacting, he must have been busy with something, or there was some network trouble so that he did not hear with clarity; she debated with her conflicting thoughts. Maybe she keeps over-reacting, she thought. Deciding to give him some alone time, to cool off, she waited.

Time flicked by. She had found him active on his website an hour back. He still hadn't called her back. She decided to toss her ego out, and give him a call. He seemed guarded, she felt. She tried to ignore the cold aloof talk of his, and began to chatter away. But she was interrupted, almost too abruptly.

"Ohhh...Gonna study? Okay.."

"Aha...Okay..Go and study...No issues"

Slam! She felt the resentment rising in her.Sleep! Relax! Surf the net! Alone time! He could spend hours doing all that. But when ever she would begin a conversation, his mind would wander, and all off a sudden, he'd get this urgent need to study, to learn! She never understood that. She never believed she would, too.

She grabbed her copy of "Only Love" and read through...Her eyes never could resist peeking over for a text or a call.

A call, that never came.

He and She

1 comments Posted by Sashu... at 3:01 AM

Her eyes kept straying here and there, as though searching out something, or someone. Her manicured nails were painted red, he noted, as he sat sipping his cup of coffee, from across the table. Fidgeting, she sat, lost in some deep reverie. He had the urge to wake her up, to probe what was wrong, or if at all anything was wrong. But, he did not. He was not known to be a meddler; and he did not want to start to be one now. He laid his cup down, scooped all the files and documents strewn all over the table, and started to walk out. She did not even notice him. He felt anger rising in him, and yet, he knew he had no reason to. So, he stormed out of the cafeteria in a hurry, letting the door slam shut on its own.

Shaken from her thoughts, she looked around. She realized that it was more than 20 minutes since she came in for her coffee. And not a drop of it was consumed. She lifted her coffee to her lips. Cold. She cursed under her breath, pushed the coffee mug away, and shrugged in exasperation. She needs help, she thought to herself. But who could she turn to? The ex-husband, of 12 years, who had suddenly packed bags and left, to Trinidad and Tobago? The mother who blamed her for every single mistake, every single step she undertook? The friends who never would lie for her, but would never hesitate to lie to her? Or her little boy of six, who'd ask her every night where Trin-dad-to-b-go was? Who was she to turn to? She swore filthy in her mind, for, she had no answers. Nor did she have any questions left, she realized to her dismay.

His Facebook profile stared back at him. The photograph showed him smiling away. Mockery, he felt disgusted at his own reflection. The confidence of the picture gave him creeps. He read through his self-proclaimed introduction, and he could not recognize the person who he claimed to be. Someone called out to him over his cubicle. Hurriedly he closed his profile, and turned to face his friend. "What was that dude? A matrimonial site?" his colleague asked; curious. "No No... I was just surfing some stuff" he answered, all flustered. Okay, I’ll believe it (for now), he heard his friend say, amused, as he walked away to his cubicle. Damn, he felt himself angered, though he could not place why he would be so. Soon his desk was piled up with files, new tenders to be made, proposals to be made. His mind no more had the space to ponder over human nature, or at the least, his own.

The clock showed 4pm. Time for her little one to be picked up from school. She shut her system down, grabbed her wallet and keys, and walked out of her room. She did not care to look at anyone one though she felt a hundred odd eyes piercing her. The lift never works, she muttered to herself as she ran down the staircase. Her car lay stuck in the parking lot, and she failed to hide her frustration. Yelling at the doorman, she demanded the other car to be shifted. The watchman obliged in a hurry, and finally she was out in the open. The Mumbai city traffic never disturbed her. She loved the bustle, the noise, the hundreds of vehicles, and thousands of people around her. Everything was dynamic. None cared to look at her, or judge her. Everyone seemed to have just one thing in their minds, to get going. She felt wholesome, she felt relieved and relaxed.

"Mammaaa...you are late by 2 minutes and 34 seconds..." her son hurled his diagnosis at her. She could not help but smile. She scooped him up in her arms, and safely laid him on the front seat. After tucking the safety belt on, she said "Awww...Mamma is really sorry. Mamma had so much work at the office. I wonder if a jell-o could make you forget this." Winking at his mom, he said "Hmmm...I guess that would be fine. But do not repeat it. Promise?" "Promise baby. Shall we get going then?" He nodded his approval and the mother-son duo drove away. Their laughter seemed infectious.

His eyes seemed to search for her. She and her once-bright eyes, and her infectious smile which had all off a sudden died away. He did not know why. Nor did he want to know. He had never wanted to be a part of her world, and still did not want to. But he never could understand why her sadness bothered him. It made him ache too. But he knew it made no sense. He heard a car drive in, and he looked down from his balcony. She was laughing; her eyes twinkled just as before. He saw her reach out to her little one. They were in another world; he smiled to himself. And then, he went back to his desk and hid himself behind the pile of files, the load of work pending.

She got back to her floor, her son safe in his crèche with his evening friends. Once again she felt all eyes on her, except one. She looked at him, wondering why he never looked at her. Or for that matter, at anyone. Shrugging her doubts off, she smiled and sat to work. And for a change, she worked.

He looked up. She was long gone. The office was empty. He walked over to her desk. It was shabby. It was sad, except for the couple of rare hours when she smiled, and worked, and created art. He flicked open the latest ad script she had made. It was the ad for a relaxing chair. It featured a boring man in a stingy cubicle, with a pile of files stacked on the desk. The man remained hidden from view, except for the fringe of hair on his balding head. His hands went to his hair in a reflex. No, he still had his hair. He smiled to himself and walked out. He called it a night.

The fan swirled on, and the sheets of her script flickered in the wind. Pity, he did not wait to look through till the last scene.