The dark side of the moon

In your silent mystique

And strange mysteries

I saw a fanatic dream

Resembling, a morning beam

Reflections mounting night and day

Like strong breeze by the bay

Pushing you towards the edge by noon

Into the dark side of the moon

The Boy

It was the boy that I first noticed, when I visited K’s house. His apartment located at the White Church Colony, was at arm’s length from the lush green campus of government colony, making it one of the most desirable housing locations in the city.

The boy stood near the stairs, when I first walked in with my suitcase - his presence so minimal that I nearly overlooked him even in the clean white background of the walls. His short hair, innocent face and torn cloths caught my attention only later in the day when I saw him standing in the alley. By his appearance, he must have been about eight years old but I wouldn’t say that he looked as adorable as the kids of his age. He was a thin child with a body structure made only of bones, as if molten liquid skin was poured on a skeleton and dried neatly enough to form a human child. He wore a pale red thread on his right arm (which must have been faded with frequent contact to water), a black circular lace around his neck, a faded t-shirt on his chest and a torn denim on his tiny legs which in itself seemed short for his size.

K and his family, made my stay as comfortable as possible. P (K’s wife), a lovely and polite lady was delightful to talk to and we became friends in no time. She and didi (K’s sister) made sure I was fed well and K with his amazing sense of humor ensured right dosage of laughter at the dining table and thereafter. Uncle (K’s father) did not keep well those days, but the family looked after him with immense care and patience. By the evening, I felt myself at home.

At night, we went out to attend a wedding and I saw the boy again standing quietly in the dark near the parking area. I wondered if K and P noticed him. In that small glance when we passed by, I smiled at him but the boy ignored my gesture. I wanted to talk to him and inquire his whereabouts but we hurried into the car amidst an interesting conversation.

Mornings and evenings went by, and I saw the boy time and again, but he never made a sound and kept himself dissolved in the background. I wondered if people of the building knew he existed, I wondered if K and P knew him.

Before I could make any inquiries, it was time for me to leave the city. I was neither fanatic nor I cared much about the boy, but I knew he was lonely and, loneliness at this young age was not what he deserved. Nevertheless I thought that some attention will bring him no harm.

The boy was absent when I left K’s house, but I felt his presence as I greeted K and P goodbye. I knew he was watching us from somewhere behind the cars.

I reached Mumbai the next morning, life caught its pace and before I could realize I was lost in the obscurities of the Metro again. I could see time pass through me as if I was an invisible object in its course, just like the boy who was invisible to many. Maybe we all share the same loneliness at some level or within our own inner space when our soul aches for the right person.

It was late at night when I received a call from K, after our exquisite chat I could no longer hold myself from asking him about the boy in his building. K was unaware of any such boy. He checked with his wife when I intruded further but even P responded indifferently to my inquire. I was in a state of great dilemma - How can a young boy remain unnoticed by the residents of the building, when an outsider like me remember him so distinctively.

With this puzzle in mind, I went downstairs for usual night walk. The sight of a child standing behind the cars in the parking area at such late hour surprised me. I went closer to have a look. The same boy from K’s building stood in front of me. Smiling and grinning at me with energy! But he made no sound. My heart went thumping by this sight and I ran outside with fear to call the watchman. Hearing my helpless scream, two watchmen came running for help. I took them behind the cars but the boy had disappeared.

Within a minute I rang K, and asked him about the boy again, this time specifically describing his appearance. Hearing the description K answered, “Yes, there was a young eight year old boy in our building who died in a car accident last year. How do you know him?”

Cortege on the road

Saw a cortege today while driving to work, a rare sight on the Mumbai Highways.
Couldn't see the face buried in marigold garland but the body rapped with a bright shiny piece of white cloth, stood out, in the rally of people marching together. The son, barefooted, held a small pot of fire in his strong hands took confidant steps.

Traffic in charge made all efforts to make a way but the cars kept moving. Naturally, why give way to a dead man in this busy life, for he has already reached his destination.

Uncertainty

The uncertainty of life knocked my door today. A 30 seconds phone call that a distant relative passed away, and that was it – a medical problem.

How simply and quietly a word 'passed-away' washes away an individual from your life creating a void that can only be filled with gentle blessings of time. The gates of memory open only to flood your imagination with disheartening thoughts. This loss, this tragic loss of life - can it ever be unimpaired?

Noting can fill the hollow that you feel - no sympathies, no words of wisdom, even the best of memories with that individual will turn their back against you and turn into a sad remembering. The mind goes into a limbo touching the deepest part of your brain and flashes you with events from the past.

No matter how miserable you feel, the departed will never come back. You can only addle your mind, but in these times you don’t want to feel better and submerge yourself into a deep void of emptiness.

Someplace, deep inside me, I am conscious of the thought that life is short and precious, and I would like to think that my tiny drop like existence in this ocean is dream life for many - a loving and caring family, good friends, education, enjoyable workplace, good food, hobbies, music, books are some of the things that have space in my life which many in this country starve for.

I am a happy and content man; I realize it now even more. But, I am determined - to be more humble and simple, to take more chances, to travel more, to respect and love, and most of all to be healthy and fit.

RIP! My distant relative.