Sunday, October 15, 2006

Is it about Words…

Anit, 29 bachelor, ambitious but confused. Finally got rid of his uneasy dream. It was already nine in the morning. This seemed unusual, but that day he had reasons for oversleeping. However, he was not sure what might have caused it, but his countenance spoke of his not-so-good night's rest.

The bright sunrays through the partially opened window penetrated mercilessly into his domain, and owed little to the state of his mind. It was a gratifying morning, sunrays enveloped the wide prairie, dewdrops dangled on the grass, and leaves rustled so as to simulate some melancholic whisper. This pleasantness was just enough for many to forget all their sorrows. Anit, however, was almost indifferent. Until yesterday, the big house with the huge courtyard in the front, where hundreds of tulips merrily blossomed, gave him a sense of contentment. But that day, a strange feeling of abomination was clouding his senses. He was carpeted by his inventory of memories. He was pulling on with his life but few alarming questions always put him into deep thoughts. Compulsive school eduaction, engineering school and the rat race to realise his dreams (do you need a sleep to do that…) in the fast track open society of endless challenges which people call US of A. The whole acquisition that he held within his existence suddenly reduced to a size his vision could not comprehend.

Even though he could not stand the continuous ringing of the phone, which was deliberately distorting the morning silence, he walked slowly toward the telephone."Anit, you are late," the familiar voice on the other side exclaimed.

He knew he was late. Had it been just another normal day, by that time of the morning he would have already been flooded with con-calls and brain storming sessions in his cubicle. He listlessly replied, "Venky, looks like the headache is going to burst my head. Friend, I think I need a day off."

It is needless to say that he was lying, but his peer had no good reason to suspect the predicament that he was in. Venky understood.

Venky and Anit had been good friends since they had started engineering school together. Perhaps it was the similar background or their identical mindset, because of which they always cherished one another's company. During his stay at the engineering school, Anit was obsessed with becoming a journalist, and the thought of updating the people was a real challenge and rushing from one place to another. But then, things did not materialize the way he wanted them to. He became an Engineer. He had no regrets, however.

Time flies, he felt. California is the place where he wanted to be and right now he is sick of it. Everyone here is thirsty about money and he too knows that he is no exception and he proudly brands himself "A BIG BULL SHIT". Whenever one turns the wireless, the news assaults your soul; the world is littered with dead children and pain. Anit prefers solitude so he avoids the supermarket and the zooming life there. It’s too complicated. Grim checkout people urgent to get home. Kids breathing asthma. Babes bawling immediate needs. Bald headed young men pushing forward, rings in their ears and girls demanding more. Car parks cluttered with stress earned money. Housewives hurrying, car exhausts, liberated women with little freedom. The exhaustion from sleek cars, too much really too much choice. Too big and too modern but too lonely for him.

The feeling of emptiness was crawling all over him that day. The silence of the room and the incessant trickling of the dewdrop from the windowpane aggravated his loneliness. Thinking of ways to get out of this predicament he turned the music on.

"Jaate jaate wo mujhe achchhi nishaani de gaya umr bhar dohraoonga aisi kahaani de gaya…" Jagjit Singh’s touchy voice in Silsilay started to fill his abysmal void. The old vintage gramophone in his plush studio apartment was inducing more nostalgia to his being. Meanwhile, his body rested on a chair and his lips moved feebly uttering the lyrics of the song, word by word. While he relaxed and sang to himself, a sudden gust of wind rushed into the room and pushed the photo-frame resting on his bedside onto the floor. Nay! He was not oblivious to the fall, but the sound of the breaking glass and the music mingled so perfectly that he thought the incident did not need any attention. After a while, Anit's lethargic legs moved ceaselessly towards the broken pieces of glass. Her face was immaculate as ever and her eyes had a radiance that no one could stand. She was still smiling even though the jagged pieces of glass were all set to make it obscure. He did not move. He stared at her eyes for some time then he thought to himself, 'Is this all true?'

Ananya was a vivacious girl. She had a charm that no one could resist. Her ponytail properly made and it was the small bindi, which was the epicentre of her beauty and the dimple on her cheeks, just an acknowledgement that she was there. She had the eyes, which made you feel like scuba diving in it and remain drowned in the deep waters for long. She was undoubtedly beautiful; but what made her different from the rest was her eloquence -- she could talk about anything, and could make anyone believe that she was the most truthful. It was this eloquence that had mesmerized Anit.

It was about two years back when Anit had met her for the first time in a technical convention. She was a journalist. A few exchange of words that day laid the way for innumerable meetings that gave them a chance to know one another in a very short period of time. She had her own ways of expressing her interest in him, and he too made his inclinations apparent numerous times. Their togetherness was hinting nothing but an inception of a new episode. Anit had a strange trait, however. He was an introvert. He did not shed a drop of tear when his parents died in an ominous car accident or did he rejoice when he secured the dream job in the campus or when he made to the Grad School he was aspiring for since his childhood. Even though he was very considerate and empathetic, nobody could discern this unless one knew him very well. Ananya, on the contrary, was an extrovert, not exactly but an ambivert to be specific. She had been explicit enough to express her love on several occasions.

Anit, even though he loved her whole-heartedly, never really expressed his feelings. All he plagiarized quite often was:
"Don't follow me, I may not lead you. Don't walk ahead, I may not follow you. Just walk beside me, I'll be there forever!"

His aesthetic sense and her sense of appreciation blended almost intricately, and remarks such as these were more than enough to soothe her heart. Time went by and with it increased her longing to hear the words of love and commitment, which he never thought worth discussing. He always said, "Ananya, I cannot commit since I have so many other priorities." For him life was all about piling degrees and climbing the ladder of success (this is one crazy word, bloody SHIT) in the corporate circles, everything else appeared to him secondary.

She used to get hurt knowing that she was not his priority; but even then her love for him never reduced. Someone had once said to Anit, "A girl needs to know when she is being loved and when she is not" This thought was not alien to him, but what he instead felt was, "One does not have to express one's love by saying it in words."

Since he never really resorted to words, sometimes he wondered, "Why do people hold so much stigma about love? Is just saying 'I love you' everything?" He was sure there were innumerable ways to express one's love. Unfortunately, he never really uttered these three words that Ananya yearned to hear so much. These words never had any value in his eyes and he had the conviction that these are better suited for the tinsel and glossy world of films and artificial empty movie dialogues.

Although the contents of the world are sometime static, we all have different windows to look at the same thing. Although his heart was filled with love, his own belief that love was something to be felt rather than to be manifested in words did not coincide with hers. She had a different view. She needed an explicit verbal conveyance of his love toward her. Their professional obligations had always kept them busy and left them with very little time to spend together. Anit ran like a mad dog always engrossed in his work but noone ever understood him or his point of view. But Anit always felt that the physical distance could be of no consequence so far as he was convinced of her love. What he never tried to do was to see the world from Ananya's eyes; and he guided himself with the belief that every action of his was as impeccable as could be thought of.

Alas! Only if he would have known that his beliefs could cost him his love...

One cannot expect the world to rotate around one's own vision. But, he was late to realize this. Meanwhile, Ananya was getting weary of his attitude, and was slowly drifting away from him. Anit was unaware of Ananya's desire to be told, "I love you." Then one night his phone rang. It was Ananya. But it was not an every day call he used to get. In fact he was not ready for what was about to unfold."Anit," she said, "I am getting married!" The news shook the floor beneath his legs... A whole world of emptiness and chaos engulfed him.

A long pause, and a feeling of ambivalence crawled over the ambience. She continued, "Although I loved you with my life, you never really conceded your love for me. I wonder if you even cared!" His quivering lips moved so as to utter, "Why? You did not even say 'I love you' for once!" He felt as if he had not slept for thousand years, and was tired of traveling endless miles of his belief. He imagined himself in the shackles for an unjustifiable crime that he had committed. He felt like a conqueror who had won the battle at the cost of things for which the battle was fought for... Moments later, the receiver of the telephone was hanging downwards from the table. But even till today a question pinged him .Is it 'the words, spoken verbally' that matter or 'the treasured feelings and the caring' that matter. Probably explicit these days is more conspicuous and carry more weightage than implicit.

He realized his loss. No he did not weep as was inherent to him. Only if life had been so much blissful, he would have just sat and cried! he said to himself. Come on buddy buck up, kaal office bhi taau jana hai….

A four-letter word (L _ V E) that every living being feels and goes through it. Try to fill that blank with the letter that first comes to your mind and without it life is like a structure similar in dimensions to that letter but empty within. But why is it that in humans sometimes it kills them, it moves mountains for them. Well is it because Adam cried for Eve or Eve cried for Adam or is it keeping humans busy so much that they miss something more important?? Speaking of crying do you realise that when you cry for someone you feel that, how much of love you hold for him/her, but not when you laugh with him or her.

Am I wrong?

This is a fictional article based entirely on my imagination, any resemblance is merely a coincidence…

Keep reading and remain connected.


At 8:25 AM, Blogger Ranganathan said...

Well Written Article!!


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