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Creators’ Catalog I is a collection of nine selected stories compiled from the submissions of Creators Contest 2022. Held every year in the month of February, this year’s contest was required to have the following lines: “A knock on the door with a familiar voice calling out. Suddenly, all surrounding sounds drowned out, making the heartbeat get seemingly louder.” Open for all categories of submissions; this year’s collection has flash fiction, short stories and memoirs. The stories deal with themes like fantasy, experiences, war and compassion, with originality being the acceptance facet. |
Illustration by Renius Mercy
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I: A Deaf Musician
Earlier today, as my mom dropped me off at my music class, I felt different. I couldn’t hear the air, but I could feel it. And I could sense the honks of vehicles. I could smell children screaming with joy on the side of the road. In the past few days, I’ve nearly recovered. All my senses except the hearing seem to be working well. Maybe that was what my music teacher was talking about. The feeling of not being able to accomplish anything on my own has gone away. Feeling independent feels great, again.
Tragedy
I lost my hearing sense following the incident. When the festival season arrived, we started lighting crackers. Massive fires raged all over the place. An enormous cracker misfired and exploded massively, just next to me. Chaos reigned all around. As soon as I saw everyone was okay, I was unable to hear anything. My eardrums burst when I heard the gigantic noise. I was bleeding as I checked. I lost consciousness, and I fell to the ground quite unconsciously. The last thing I saw before collapsing was my parents running towards me. I had no idea what was happening. I distinctly remember getting into that ambulance, later lying on a stretcher in a hospital lobby. Then, all of a sudden, I was completely disoriented.
My dizziness arose several days after my surgery and after my operation, and everyone was gesturing and showing signs to me. I thought they were crazy until I saw my parents. They were doing the same thing as everyone else. My ears did not work, all I could hear was tinnitus and a few buzzing noises. Suddenly, I realised that I could not hear any sound. Tears started to fall down as I realized that I could not hear anything. My head started hurting and I was depressed. A part of me was screaming, “Why is it always me? Why do I always have to give up on my dreams?” Even machines were no good. I couldn’t even listen to what I was saying. I was very sad and down. I didn’t know what had happened to me. I didn’t know how to cope.
In the last few months, days have become nights and nights have become days, but the people around me did not change. Several people pitied me, saying that I didn’t deserve that. I thought it was pointless to say that. I mean who would deserve that? All of the pityings were simply unnecessary to say. Thank God, I couldn’t hear them, but I felt their pity. I’ve just given up on everything, from my music to the people I care about, to my dreams and goals, and as a result, I felt lonely. In any case, I can’t read my own words for what they are. It was so stupid of my mom to forcefully put me in the Support group. It made me, even more, worse than before. Joining a deaf man in a Support group is actually a very stupid idea.
My dizziness arose several days after my surgery and after my operation, and everyone was gesturing and showing signs to me. I thought they were crazy until I saw my parents. They were doing the same thing as everyone else. My ears did not work, all I could hear was tinnitus and a few buzzing noises. Suddenly, I realised that I could not hear any sound. Tears started to fall down as I realized that I could not hear anything. My head started hurting and I was depressed. A part of me was screaming, “Why is it always me? Why do I always have to give up on my dreams?” Even machines were no good. I couldn’t even listen to what I was saying. I was very sad and down. I didn’t know what had happened to me. I didn’t know how to cope.
In the last few months, days have become nights and nights have become days, but the people around me did not change. Several people pitied me, saying that I didn’t deserve that. I thought it was pointless to say that. I mean who would deserve that? All of the pityings were simply unnecessary to say. Thank God, I couldn’t hear them, but I felt their pity. I’ve just given up on everything, from my music to the people I care about, to my dreams and goals, and as a result, I felt lonely. In any case, I can’t read my own words for what they are. It was so stupid of my mom to forcefully put me in the Support group. It made me, even more, worse than before. Joining a deaf man in a Support group is actually a very stupid idea.
Conviction
It was difficult for me to express myself or receive anything. Scrolling through the texts, all those heart emojis just make me mad. Why do they do that? It’s obnoxious. When I had those mood swings and was feeling irritated and depressed, I thought music could help. Now, I know that sounds crazy, but it used to help me in the past. So I pulled out my violin and tried playing. Though I thought it would help, it didn’t. The tune was off as I could feel by touching it, and the strings were twitchy just like my mood. I shut down in anger, and I felt like I was nothing but a loser. A musician who loses his sense of hearing is nothing but a loser. I threw my bow away and started crying. I felt like I needed some air, so I ran off. Despite not knowing where I was going, I thought I would be cured by running away from my life. But as the clouds began to weep, I stopped running. In comparison to my tears, the tears of the sky were many. I thought its tears were bearing far more pain than mine. My tears were covered in the raindrops, and I felt nature steady my heartbeat. My needs were to be hugged and comforted by someone, and I received them from the sky. I also learned that running away won’t cure me, but will just break me further. I was soaked too much and caught a cold. But, the lesson I learned was astounding and a blessing. I went home and received scoldings from my mother but felt the underlying intention behind her anger. Slowly, as the days passed, the pieces reattached. But the shards are all too far apart and cannot be found or fixed. However, I will work through it. I thought there shouldn’t be dusk in my life.
I used to write to my mom on paper to facilitate our conversations, but I don't need that any longer. I learned ISL, which is a special language for people like me. This helped me approach anyone. After a few days of struggle, I got a few text messages from my old friend Bunty. He said, “Oi boi, don’t get depressed. You’re always smiling, and I’m never mad. LOL. Hope you’re doing well.” Another message followed, “Now we miss your sarcastic remarks here. So we’re offering you this chance to visit the academy. Sir mentioned your days a few days ago. Now, I think we can fix that. There’s a surprise waiting for you. Come to the academy on Tuesday at 6 o’clock.” Then, after reading his texts, I realized, I found someone who doesn’t pity me. My friends were again reaffirmed to me. My anger and pain caused me to hurriedly rush out that day, but now, I’m scared to place my foot out. I'm just worried about the invitation. This is a Sunday, and I got one more day. The word “surprise” sparked both curiosity and dread.
I used to write to my mom on paper to facilitate our conversations, but I don't need that any longer. I learned ISL, which is a special language for people like me. This helped me approach anyone. After a few days of struggle, I got a few text messages from my old friend Bunty. He said, “Oi boi, don’t get depressed. You’re always smiling, and I’m never mad. LOL. Hope you’re doing well.” Another message followed, “Now we miss your sarcastic remarks here. So we’re offering you this chance to visit the academy. Sir mentioned your days a few days ago. Now, I think we can fix that. There’s a surprise waiting for you. Come to the academy on Tuesday at 6 o’clock.” Then, after reading his texts, I realized, I found someone who doesn’t pity me. My friends were again reaffirmed to me. My anger and pain caused me to hurriedly rush out that day, but now, I’m scared to place my foot out. I'm just worried about the invitation. This is a Sunday, and I got one more day. The word “surprise” sparked both curiosity and dread.
Tremendous Tuesday
The day had finally come, and I was going to the music academy. I asked my mom to come with me so that we could go together to the music academy. When they saw me in the music class, everyone froze. The look on their faces conveyed so much emotion. My lunatic friends always did something crazy with me. Bunty, Swiss, Levi, and Tobi embraced me by falling on me. It was scary, but I was so happy. As soon as we greeted them with abundance, they invited us in. My teacher and I both looked into each other’s eyes. His large dark brown eyes were frightening, but they eventually smiled. Both of us communicated in our own languages. I was unable to pick up his sign language, but it continued to go well later. He spoke about everything and Bunty bought him a note. He handed it to me. It read, “Those who play string instruments do not need ears to understand. We have the other senses to feel them. We feel them by touch and vision. It’s not an issue if you do not hear, it’s not an insurmountable barrier. There is some power in music that can change the impossible. We will be happy to have you back at practice. You possess a good sense of music. If you are back, you can tune yourself. You might change something.”
My teacher wrote that note, so all I have to do is follow him. He will help me with everything. I didn’t want to admit it, but as soon as I started reading that, tears flooded. I came to know that he wrote the note himself. Both my mom and I agreed to that, so I’ll be returning to class soon. This is the surprise Bunty talked about. So, my mom treated us to a milkshake for our special dinner at Pop’s diner. I finally got a proper milkshake and some fries with everyone after many years.
My teacher wrote that note, so all I have to do is follow him. He will help me with everything. I didn’t want to admit it, but as soon as I started reading that, tears flooded. I came to know that he wrote the note himself. Both my mom and I agreed to that, so I’ll be returning to class soon. This is the surprise Bunty talked about. So, my mom treated us to a milkshake for our special dinner at Pop’s diner. I finally got a proper milkshake and some fries with everyone after many years.
Fluctuation
It isn’t just about the words. You need to do something as well. I thought it would be easy to resume, but it wasn’t. I felt resuming my music was pointless. I still wasn’t able to feel it. Despite being a cringy disabled man, I found it difficult to throw myself out of that miserable state. I saw everyone flinching from the terrible sounds I was making with my violin. Maybe, I am unfit. Violins are melodious instruments, but only if we play them melodiously. In the past few days, I have not observed any change. However, my teacher has been very attentive and very strong towards me. It was like watching Charlie Chaplin’s movies even without any background music. I could not comprehend anything. Because of my curiosity, I asked my teacher to tell me why I can’t do it and why he was concerned about me. He just grinned but didn’t answer my question. He gestured and then said that soon I will catch up. I later received text messages from Bunty regarding the questions I had asked my teacher. He responded simply by saying that I have earned my teacher’s trust quite a while ago, and I am capable of mastering this instrument. I can concentrate and be a good musician even when I do not have a hearing sense. In fact, those were his own words. His compliment and impression of me were remarkable. I’m grateful for his efforts and concern for me, so I made the decision not to let him down and to work hard as much as I can.
I gathered my thoughts, filed my nails and took out my violin. I recalled all the lessons from the beginning. I responded to the vibrations and kept playing. That cleared my mind. Later, I struggled with the notations as well. In addition to my practice, I took out my metronome and adjusted the speed and turned it out. Everything has a backup, even the metronome has a pendulum, which helped me know the speed. I asked my mom for help if I could match the speed with her. However, the beginning was not good at all. After a few days, I came to realize that I should slow down my speed. I was going too fast. I got it done later. Overpowering my heartbeat were the vibrations.
Having returned to the academy after the monsoon holidays, I participated in a presentation. My practice helped me perform flawlessly. I received praise from everyone. After getting back in the groove, we started doing real exercises. We learned about finger reflexes, stave notes, and much more. Although it took me longer to get the hang of it than others, I was still able to catch up to them in time. I finally formed my own crew. We hit Pop’s diner every day to discuss our future plans and practice over milkshakes. I could read their lips and recognize their expressions. After music changed my life, I finally gained the strength to speak. Now, I no longer need to make signs to speak, but I still need signs to listen. My dreams still seemed far away. The only thing I need to do is have patience and wisdom.
As my lessons advanced, so did my practices. Life has sped up, as it took me five years to complete my graduation. Getting my graduation certificate was an honourable and unforgettable moment. I was able to accomplish that through my passion. I solved the problem just by imagining the beats and following the vibe. During these six years, I experienced many feelings. I learned the true meaning of life. I fell down many times but rose up again. I slowed down numerous times but got pushed up by my friends. These people stayed with me and helped me a great deal. Now it’s my turn to repay the debts. I helped and built a Residential music class. It has now grown to become a very big academy in honour of my teacher and friends. My actions led to me being acknowledged by many people, and I was asked to participate in several concerts along with my master and mates. This increased my self-esteem, and today I teach at our school. It’s the beginning of my career as a teacher, but as a student, it will never end. A day without learning something is a wasted day. So I learn a lot every day. My hearing may have been impaired, but I didn’t lose hope. As long as I have that, I am capable of achieving anything. It’s now my turn to give my pupils that same hope.
I gathered my thoughts, filed my nails and took out my violin. I recalled all the lessons from the beginning. I responded to the vibrations and kept playing. That cleared my mind. Later, I struggled with the notations as well. In addition to my practice, I took out my metronome and adjusted the speed and turned it out. Everything has a backup, even the metronome has a pendulum, which helped me know the speed. I asked my mom for help if I could match the speed with her. However, the beginning was not good at all. After a few days, I came to realize that I should slow down my speed. I was going too fast. I got it done later. Overpowering my heartbeat were the vibrations.
Having returned to the academy after the monsoon holidays, I participated in a presentation. My practice helped me perform flawlessly. I received praise from everyone. After getting back in the groove, we started doing real exercises. We learned about finger reflexes, stave notes, and much more. Although it took me longer to get the hang of it than others, I was still able to catch up to them in time. I finally formed my own crew. We hit Pop’s diner every day to discuss our future plans and practice over milkshakes. I could read their lips and recognize their expressions. After music changed my life, I finally gained the strength to speak. Now, I no longer need to make signs to speak, but I still need signs to listen. My dreams still seemed far away. The only thing I need to do is have patience and wisdom.
As my lessons advanced, so did my practices. Life has sped up, as it took me five years to complete my graduation. Getting my graduation certificate was an honourable and unforgettable moment. I was able to accomplish that through my passion. I solved the problem just by imagining the beats and following the vibe. During these six years, I experienced many feelings. I learned the true meaning of life. I fell down many times but rose up again. I slowed down numerous times but got pushed up by my friends. These people stayed with me and helped me a great deal. Now it’s my turn to repay the debts. I helped and built a Residential music class. It has now grown to become a very big academy in honour of my teacher and friends. My actions led to me being acknowledged by many people, and I was asked to participate in several concerts along with my master and mates. This increased my self-esteem, and today I teach at our school. It’s the beginning of my career as a teacher, but as a student, it will never end. A day without learning something is a wasted day. So I learn a lot every day. My hearing may have been impaired, but I didn’t lose hope. As long as I have that, I am capable of achieving anything. It’s now my turn to give my pupils that same hope.
II: A Fairy Tale Life
He woke up in a dark and eerie place. Deep in the corner, there sat a girl, so small that she would have gone unnoticed, had it not been for her long tresses curling over themselves and making their way right up to his feet. Legs bent up to reach her chest and with her head between her knees, she was whimpering.
“E-Excuse me…”
She kept crying. It was quite surprising how her soft sobs tugged so hard on his gut.
He must have hiked this mountain a hundred times with his friends, and he could have sworn he had never seen this castle before. His friends had all been just as surprised, but surprisingly enough, not even half as curious as him. Their fear had got the better of them, and they had left him all alone on his quest to explore the castle.
More astonishing to him was his own lack of fear.
Unlike most guys of his age, he had always loved fairy tales. His strange fascination with these tales of magic and wonder had carried over well into his adulthood. But, even if he hadn’t, drawing a comparison to his favourite story was all too easy. The eerie-looking castle, the sad girl living at the top of the tower, her unusually long hair - this was Rapunzel.
He might not have feared much standing at the castle door, and he had no idea how he had climbed up all the stairs without even once thinking of running away; but, looking at her now, looking at her shaking with every little sob, he was a little afraid. He was afraid that he had, by a stroke of luck, landed right inside his childhood dream. The days when he used to practise fighting the wicked witch with the sticks he used to collect from the forest had prepared him for this one moment.
And just then, the girl looked up. With a slight upward tilt of her head, she looked at him, and he looked into her big, bright eyes. And that was the moment, he knew, she was his Rapunzel. He didn’t know how he had manifested his dream, but he would, and God was his witness, save this girl at any cost.
Treading through the hair as fast as he could, he held both her arms and said, “Let’s leave. Come on, get up. Let’s leave! Before she comes for us!”
“I can’t! You know, I can’t.”
“What? No, I don’t know. Why?”
“Not just me”, she said meekly. Her eyes welled up. “It’s both of us. We can’t leave. Don’t you know? Don’t you remember?”
“Rem-remember what?”
No soon had the words left his mouth that he heard something. A knock on the door with a familiar voice calling out. Suddenly, all surrounding sounds drowned out making the heartbeat get seemingly louder.
She was here. And he knew her. He knew the witch.
It all came back to him. It had been years and years ago that he had stumbled upon this castle with his friends. Years ago, he had stepped inside. Years ago, he found the girl. And never been able to leave since.
“It’s the witch again!”, cried the little girl. “She’s here! What are we going to do?”
“What we always do”, he said. “I am going to go fight her.”
“Oh my God, no! We have been fighting her all this time. And we have never been able to beat her.”
“But, she too hasn’t beaten us, yet. We’re still alive, right?”
The girl nodded but again started wailing.
Eyes sparkling with new determination, he started walking towards the door. Turning back one last time to see the girl, he grabbed the doorknob and pulled it open.
“Dad! I have been calling you forever! Why didn’t you answer? And how many times do I tell you, do not lock the door from the inside!”
He just kept looking at her, his expression giving nothing away.
“Dad”, exasperated, she said, “If this goes on, you know I am going to have to remove the lock. You know that, right?”
“You will not”, he replied, as slowly and deliberately as he could.
“All right. I don’t want to fight. I just came to tell you that lunch is ready. Come on, let’s get you your medicines.”
“No. No medicines.”
“What? This again? Why? Do you want to spend your eternity in the castle with Rapunzel? Do you never want to get out? See the real world?”
“World where witches like you exist?”, he snapped.
“Wow. Witch. Really? That’s what you call your own daughter?”
“You’re no daughter of mine. I don’t have a daughter. You’re a witch trying to fool me.”
She couldn’t do it anymore. But, she had known that her whole life. She cursed the day her father went out hiking with his friends and met with an accident. That day, time stopped for him. The irony was, that he did not remember anything from his past except the damned story of Rapunzel that he used to read to her every night. Not his daughter. Not the days they used to go to the forest together and fight each other trying to save Rapunzel, playing the hero and the villain, turn-by-turn. Nothing.
And now that she had her own family, her own daughter, she dreaded the very idea of fairy tales.
Her little trip down the memory lane ended suddenly as she saw her father stepping back into his room. She almost jumped, wedging herself between him and the door. Hearing the ruckus, her husband came rushing to them.
“What’s going on?”, he exclaimed.
“Listen, get the syringe. Come on, fast!”, she cried.
With one hand trying to close the door, her father tried to push her out. He could hear the little girl sitting in the corner, weeping inconsolably. And then, with a little pinch in his arm, he felt her fading away, till everything went dark.
“E-Excuse me…”
She kept crying. It was quite surprising how her soft sobs tugged so hard on his gut.
He must have hiked this mountain a hundred times with his friends, and he could have sworn he had never seen this castle before. His friends had all been just as surprised, but surprisingly enough, not even half as curious as him. Their fear had got the better of them, and they had left him all alone on his quest to explore the castle.
More astonishing to him was his own lack of fear.
Unlike most guys of his age, he had always loved fairy tales. His strange fascination with these tales of magic and wonder had carried over well into his adulthood. But, even if he hadn’t, drawing a comparison to his favourite story was all too easy. The eerie-looking castle, the sad girl living at the top of the tower, her unusually long hair - this was Rapunzel.
He might not have feared much standing at the castle door, and he had no idea how he had climbed up all the stairs without even once thinking of running away; but, looking at her now, looking at her shaking with every little sob, he was a little afraid. He was afraid that he had, by a stroke of luck, landed right inside his childhood dream. The days when he used to practise fighting the wicked witch with the sticks he used to collect from the forest had prepared him for this one moment.
And just then, the girl looked up. With a slight upward tilt of her head, she looked at him, and he looked into her big, bright eyes. And that was the moment, he knew, she was his Rapunzel. He didn’t know how he had manifested his dream, but he would, and God was his witness, save this girl at any cost.
Treading through the hair as fast as he could, he held both her arms and said, “Let’s leave. Come on, get up. Let’s leave! Before she comes for us!”
“I can’t! You know, I can’t.”
“What? No, I don’t know. Why?”
“Not just me”, she said meekly. Her eyes welled up. “It’s both of us. We can’t leave. Don’t you know? Don’t you remember?”
“Rem-remember what?”
No soon had the words left his mouth that he heard something. A knock on the door with a familiar voice calling out. Suddenly, all surrounding sounds drowned out making the heartbeat get seemingly louder.
She was here. And he knew her. He knew the witch.
It all came back to him. It had been years and years ago that he had stumbled upon this castle with his friends. Years ago, he had stepped inside. Years ago, he found the girl. And never been able to leave since.
“It’s the witch again!”, cried the little girl. “She’s here! What are we going to do?”
“What we always do”, he said. “I am going to go fight her.”
“Oh my God, no! We have been fighting her all this time. And we have never been able to beat her.”
“But, she too hasn’t beaten us, yet. We’re still alive, right?”
The girl nodded but again started wailing.
Eyes sparkling with new determination, he started walking towards the door. Turning back one last time to see the girl, he grabbed the doorknob and pulled it open.
“Dad! I have been calling you forever! Why didn’t you answer? And how many times do I tell you, do not lock the door from the inside!”
He just kept looking at her, his expression giving nothing away.
“Dad”, exasperated, she said, “If this goes on, you know I am going to have to remove the lock. You know that, right?”
“You will not”, he replied, as slowly and deliberately as he could.
“All right. I don’t want to fight. I just came to tell you that lunch is ready. Come on, let’s get you your medicines.”
“No. No medicines.”
“What? This again? Why? Do you want to spend your eternity in the castle with Rapunzel? Do you never want to get out? See the real world?”
“World where witches like you exist?”, he snapped.
“Wow. Witch. Really? That’s what you call your own daughter?”
“You’re no daughter of mine. I don’t have a daughter. You’re a witch trying to fool me.”
She couldn’t do it anymore. But, she had known that her whole life. She cursed the day her father went out hiking with his friends and met with an accident. That day, time stopped for him. The irony was, that he did not remember anything from his past except the damned story of Rapunzel that he used to read to her every night. Not his daughter. Not the days they used to go to the forest together and fight each other trying to save Rapunzel, playing the hero and the villain, turn-by-turn. Nothing.
And now that she had her own family, her own daughter, she dreaded the very idea of fairy tales.
Her little trip down the memory lane ended suddenly as she saw her father stepping back into his room. She almost jumped, wedging herself between him and the door. Hearing the ruckus, her husband came rushing to them.
“What’s going on?”, he exclaimed.
“Listen, get the syringe. Come on, fast!”, she cried.
With one hand trying to close the door, her father tried to push her out. He could hear the little girl sitting in the corner, weeping inconsolably. And then, with a little pinch in his arm, he felt her fading away, till everything went dark.
III: Anna & Rose
While the soldiers march, Anna peeps through the basement.
Anna is a jew who lost her family because of a man’s atrocious racism and now feels like a bird in a cage waiting for freedom!
Rosa calls her from upstairs. “Today, you don’t have to take your breakfast in the cellar. You can come up to have it!” While they both walk up, Rosa tells Anna, “Gobbles just announced on the radio that Germany won the war, and if it is true, no jew will be spared.”
“I have managed to cook for today with whatever is available, please eat full, and I will make arrangements to send you to Switzerland. You will be safe there.” Anna, due to her young age, doesn’t bother to listen carefully to what Rosa says but moves towards the radio. She tunes it to a different channel and hears jazz coming in. She makes a few moves, and her frock pulls a plate from the table.
A knock on the door with a familiar voice calling out. Suddenly, all surrounding sounds drowned out, making the heartbeat get seemingly louder. Lieutenant Herman comes demanding, “Open the door.”
The pleasant atmosphere in the room fades away. Anna understands it’s time. Rosa asks her to hide and then opens the door calmly (just to project everything is just normal), and Herman comes in and asks, “Who all lives here?”
Rosa says her husband is in the Army (though she knows he is dead and lies to people around just to protect herself and the jew in the home), and she only stays now. Lieutenant asks Rosa, “Who likes music?” She tells me.
The lieutenant goes around the home to search leisurely and goes down to the basement to see if someone is there (just thinking as almost everyone hides in the basement). Rosa feels a bit stressed when she sees him going down to the basement (as generally, Anna stays there and thinks he might find her).
He finds nothing in the basement and comes upstairs and searches around. He notices a box in the corner and asks what’s that? Rosa says we keep used clothes in it for washing (while she manages to keep herself normal though she is nervous about where Anna is). Lieutenant goes towards it and makes a carelessly random push with his long barrel revolver on the clothes to see if there is something in it. He senses nothing except the clothes. He confirms himself that the house is just having Nazis and makes a move out heedlessly and tells Rosa to turn off the music saying, “Nazis don’t like Negermusik.”
Anna watches the lieutenant’s steps going away through the holes of the box. As he goes out, Rosa closes the door, thinking about where Anna is.
Anna comes out of the box, and the room starts to sense relief.
While they both eat in silence, Anna asks Rosa if she can get help. While the patient eyes of Rosa seek what the girl wants, Anna says, “My mom thought this situation might come true one day and so she safely kept her necklace in a paintbrushes box in my home. Could you please go get it for me?”
Anna’s mom and Rosa are friends and neighbours. One day when soldiers took Anna’s parents to a concentration camp, Anna was at Rosa’s home, and even today, she is at Rosa’s home only. Rosa thinks about what the situation tomorrow would be as it’s hard to get a single meal today… Rosa says she will go get the necklace in the afternoon.
Rosa manages to go into the wrecked Anna’s home, and she notices a lot of valuable items looted and thinks to herself, “This society doesn’t want Jews, but they want their wealth? What a pity!”
She goes in and finds the necklace in a box. She is shocked to see Albert when she turns back with a relieving face. Albert is a drunkard and worst Nazi informer.
Albert: Long time no see Rosa
Rosa: There are no groceries in my home. I just came here to see if I get something valuable to trade it off. Anyways, these Jews were well off, no…
Albert: Oh, is it? In that case, how did you know there is a necklace in that box? I know you are hiding a Jew in your home, and I will not tell anyone about it. Just give that necklace to me.
He grips Rosa’s hand and asks again.
Rosa tries to push him away.
Albert goes back in a wavy motion (as he is drunk on his head).
While Rosa tries to run away, Albert pulls her back!
Albert: If you give that necklace to me, you will go home safely. Otherwise, I will rape you and get away with it.
Helpless, Rosa gives the necklace to Albert.
While Albert manages to get away from the scene with the necklace in hand, someone hits heavily on his head. With the alcohol effect and the current hit on the head, he collapses.
When Rosa opens her eyes, she sees Anna!
Anna and Rosa managed to reach home safely. But they are petrified, thinking about what would soldiers do to them (will they hang them, or will they shoot them to death) if they come to know that Albert is dead there.
That night, they notice an increased frequency of Nazi vehicles movement around their home. They think that Nazi soldiers might have come to know that Albert is dead, and no one can stop their death. By the time they try to get some sleep in that tension, it becomes morning.
They hear an announcement on the radio saying, “Germany has lost the war; Hitler is dead”. “No harm will be done to any more Jews”, a Russian voice from far fetched relief to Anna and Rosa.
Anna goes out of home in a rush and makes a few elegant moves from her lovely dance - Ballet!
Anna is a jew who lost her family because of a man’s atrocious racism and now feels like a bird in a cage waiting for freedom!
Rosa calls her from upstairs. “Today, you don’t have to take your breakfast in the cellar. You can come up to have it!” While they both walk up, Rosa tells Anna, “Gobbles just announced on the radio that Germany won the war, and if it is true, no jew will be spared.”
“I have managed to cook for today with whatever is available, please eat full, and I will make arrangements to send you to Switzerland. You will be safe there.” Anna, due to her young age, doesn’t bother to listen carefully to what Rosa says but moves towards the radio. She tunes it to a different channel and hears jazz coming in. She makes a few moves, and her frock pulls a plate from the table.
A knock on the door with a familiar voice calling out. Suddenly, all surrounding sounds drowned out, making the heartbeat get seemingly louder. Lieutenant Herman comes demanding, “Open the door.”
The pleasant atmosphere in the room fades away. Anna understands it’s time. Rosa asks her to hide and then opens the door calmly (just to project everything is just normal), and Herman comes in and asks, “Who all lives here?”
Rosa says her husband is in the Army (though she knows he is dead and lies to people around just to protect herself and the jew in the home), and she only stays now. Lieutenant asks Rosa, “Who likes music?” She tells me.
The lieutenant goes around the home to search leisurely and goes down to the basement to see if someone is there (just thinking as almost everyone hides in the basement). Rosa feels a bit stressed when she sees him going down to the basement (as generally, Anna stays there and thinks he might find her).
He finds nothing in the basement and comes upstairs and searches around. He notices a box in the corner and asks what’s that? Rosa says we keep used clothes in it for washing (while she manages to keep herself normal though she is nervous about where Anna is). Lieutenant goes towards it and makes a carelessly random push with his long barrel revolver on the clothes to see if there is something in it. He senses nothing except the clothes. He confirms himself that the house is just having Nazis and makes a move out heedlessly and tells Rosa to turn off the music saying, “Nazis don’t like Negermusik.”
Anna watches the lieutenant’s steps going away through the holes of the box. As he goes out, Rosa closes the door, thinking about where Anna is.
Anna comes out of the box, and the room starts to sense relief.
While they both eat in silence, Anna asks Rosa if she can get help. While the patient eyes of Rosa seek what the girl wants, Anna says, “My mom thought this situation might come true one day and so she safely kept her necklace in a paintbrushes box in my home. Could you please go get it for me?”
Anna’s mom and Rosa are friends and neighbours. One day when soldiers took Anna’s parents to a concentration camp, Anna was at Rosa’s home, and even today, she is at Rosa’s home only. Rosa thinks about what the situation tomorrow would be as it’s hard to get a single meal today… Rosa says she will go get the necklace in the afternoon.
Rosa manages to go into the wrecked Anna’s home, and she notices a lot of valuable items looted and thinks to herself, “This society doesn’t want Jews, but they want their wealth? What a pity!”
She goes in and finds the necklace in a box. She is shocked to see Albert when she turns back with a relieving face. Albert is a drunkard and worst Nazi informer.
Albert: Long time no see Rosa
Rosa: There are no groceries in my home. I just came here to see if I get something valuable to trade it off. Anyways, these Jews were well off, no…
Albert: Oh, is it? In that case, how did you know there is a necklace in that box? I know you are hiding a Jew in your home, and I will not tell anyone about it. Just give that necklace to me.
He grips Rosa’s hand and asks again.
Rosa tries to push him away.
Albert goes back in a wavy motion (as he is drunk on his head).
While Rosa tries to run away, Albert pulls her back!
Albert: If you give that necklace to me, you will go home safely. Otherwise, I will rape you and get away with it.
Helpless, Rosa gives the necklace to Albert.
While Albert manages to get away from the scene with the necklace in hand, someone hits heavily on his head. With the alcohol effect and the current hit on the head, he collapses.
When Rosa opens her eyes, she sees Anna!
Anna and Rosa managed to reach home safely. But they are petrified, thinking about what would soldiers do to them (will they hang them, or will they shoot them to death) if they come to know that Albert is dead there.
That night, they notice an increased frequency of Nazi vehicles movement around their home. They think that Nazi soldiers might have come to know that Albert is dead, and no one can stop their death. By the time they try to get some sleep in that tension, it becomes morning.
They hear an announcement on the radio saying, “Germany has lost the war; Hitler is dead”. “No harm will be done to any more Jews”, a Russian voice from far fetched relief to Anna and Rosa.
Anna goes out of home in a rush and makes a few elegant moves from her lovely dance - Ballet!
IV: Déjà vu
The assassin landed in the middle of the corridor with a puff of dust. He has been through the Quantum bridge a thousand times before, but his head still reeled from the impact. He looked at his watch. The time read 9.9.2032 1137Hrs. He stopped his humming ARK and placed it in his pocket. He walked to the door of the room, cocked his handgun, and wrapped it in a package. He knew he couldn’t break in. The instructions given to him were clear. “Enter the zone. Extract the asset. Kill the rest.”
The man knocked on the door thrice, paused and said “I have the package. Just like you wanted”. There was some muffled conversation inside. Then somebody walked up to the door and opened it. The assassin walked inside the room holding the package up in his hand. While he was being frisked, he looked around. There were six armed personnel (black robes) guarding another six unarmed people (white robes). He looked for his asset and spotted her lying down on the floor with a guard standing against her. The whole place looked ragged and was lit by a lone window on the sidewall. The guy finished searching for him and asked for the package. The assassin smiled, unwrapped the handgun and shot him in his head. The room erupted.
The assassin used the dead guy as a shield and shot two other people dead. Bullets whizzed past him from both sides. It was mayhem. He shot the chandelier hanging above, killing another guy. He then grabbed an M6 automatic and made short work of the guard standing near his asset. There were two more armed guys emptying their magazines at him. He ducked behind a couch and held his asset close for safety. Just then, he noticed something moving from the corner of his eye. There were a couple of white robes attacking him. The assassin moved swiftly to gun one down and used his knife to cut the throat of another one. Before he could understand what was happening, his asset moved suddenly and stabbed him with a shard of glass. The shocked assassin gathered his senses and knocked her unconscious. This moment exposed him to the black robes and he was hit by a couple of rounds. He grimaced in pain and tried to catch his breath. He then shot the gas line on the opposite wall and the explosion made the black robes duck. The assassin used the moment to slide across and gunned the black robes down.
The man dragged himself near the window. His lungs were punctured with bullets and blood was oozing out. He was gasping for air and knew he was dying. He used his watch to send an SOS message to his unit. There was no response. He didn’t want to die here. He wanted to go back and see his little girl. He then did the unthinkable. There was one basic rule his handler repeatedly told him during his missions, “Never use the ARK if you are close to death”. He wondered what unspoken horrors await if he did that. But he made up his mind. What could be worse than dying alone in the future? He removed his ARK and plugged in the current date and place. He was counting his breaths and held the ARK firmly and it kicked into motion with a loud whirring sound and started pulling him into the bridge. When he was about to pass out, he noticed that the room came back to normal as it was, when he entered. Then he heard a knock on the door with a familiar voice calling out. Suddenly, all surrounding sounds drowned out making the heartbeat get seemingly louder. It was HIM who was back again. He tried to yell loudly but it was drowned in a vacuum. He died or so he felt.
The man knocked on the door thrice. He felt a sense of déjà vu at that moment. He ignored it and brought his focus back to the assignment. He said “I have the package. Just like you wanted.”… (After a few minutes)... He was gasping for breath and knew he was dying. Then the ARK whirred into motion by itself and sucked him into the vacuum.
The man knocked on the door thrice. He felt a sense of déjà vu at that moment. He ignored it and said, “I have the package. Just like you wanted.”
He was stuck in a time loop for an indefinite period.
The man knocked on the door thrice. He felt a strong sense of déjà vu at that moment. It was pulling him back. It was a weird feeling. He wondered what unseen dangers await him on the other side of the door. Fear and doubt got the better of him and he decided to give in to his impulses. He retraced his steps back into the corridor and outside the building. He knew the consequences of his actions. He will be labelled as a deserter and will be hunted down. He came onto the sidewalk and saw a couple of cars coming and stopping on the other side of the road. Armed units got out and the assassin got ready to fight. But then they turned to the other side and aimed at someone else. For a moment he thought he was dreaming. But he recognized his daughter who is 10 years older now. She was walking toward him and the guns were aimed at her. She saw him and froze. The assassin placed himself between his daughter and the attackers and rained bullets on them. He was hit several times, but he continued fighting till he killed everyone. He gave out a primaeval yell and dropped onto the floor. He saw his daughter running towards him and smiled. He knew there was no coming back this time. Light shone on him warmly and the assassin was dead in peace.
The man knocked on the door thrice, paused and said “I have the package. Just like you wanted”. There was some muffled conversation inside. Then somebody walked up to the door and opened it. The assassin walked inside the room holding the package up in his hand. While he was being frisked, he looked around. There were six armed personnel (black robes) guarding another six unarmed people (white robes). He looked for his asset and spotted her lying down on the floor with a guard standing against her. The whole place looked ragged and was lit by a lone window on the sidewall. The guy finished searching for him and asked for the package. The assassin smiled, unwrapped the handgun and shot him in his head. The room erupted.
The assassin used the dead guy as a shield and shot two other people dead. Bullets whizzed past him from both sides. It was mayhem. He shot the chandelier hanging above, killing another guy. He then grabbed an M6 automatic and made short work of the guard standing near his asset. There were two more armed guys emptying their magazines at him. He ducked behind a couch and held his asset close for safety. Just then, he noticed something moving from the corner of his eye. There were a couple of white robes attacking him. The assassin moved swiftly to gun one down and used his knife to cut the throat of another one. Before he could understand what was happening, his asset moved suddenly and stabbed him with a shard of glass. The shocked assassin gathered his senses and knocked her unconscious. This moment exposed him to the black robes and he was hit by a couple of rounds. He grimaced in pain and tried to catch his breath. He then shot the gas line on the opposite wall and the explosion made the black robes duck. The assassin used the moment to slide across and gunned the black robes down.
The man dragged himself near the window. His lungs were punctured with bullets and blood was oozing out. He was gasping for air and knew he was dying. He used his watch to send an SOS message to his unit. There was no response. He didn’t want to die here. He wanted to go back and see his little girl. He then did the unthinkable. There was one basic rule his handler repeatedly told him during his missions, “Never use the ARK if you are close to death”. He wondered what unspoken horrors await if he did that. But he made up his mind. What could be worse than dying alone in the future? He removed his ARK and plugged in the current date and place. He was counting his breaths and held the ARK firmly and it kicked into motion with a loud whirring sound and started pulling him into the bridge. When he was about to pass out, he noticed that the room came back to normal as it was, when he entered. Then he heard a knock on the door with a familiar voice calling out. Suddenly, all surrounding sounds drowned out making the heartbeat get seemingly louder. It was HIM who was back again. He tried to yell loudly but it was drowned in a vacuum. He died or so he felt.
The man knocked on the door thrice. He felt a sense of déjà vu at that moment. He ignored it and brought his focus back to the assignment. He said “I have the package. Just like you wanted.”… (After a few minutes)... He was gasping for breath and knew he was dying. Then the ARK whirred into motion by itself and sucked him into the vacuum.
The man knocked on the door thrice. He felt a sense of déjà vu at that moment. He ignored it and said, “I have the package. Just like you wanted.”
He was stuck in a time loop for an indefinite period.
The man knocked on the door thrice. He felt a strong sense of déjà vu at that moment. It was pulling him back. It was a weird feeling. He wondered what unseen dangers await him on the other side of the door. Fear and doubt got the better of him and he decided to give in to his impulses. He retraced his steps back into the corridor and outside the building. He knew the consequences of his actions. He will be labelled as a deserter and will be hunted down. He came onto the sidewalk and saw a couple of cars coming and stopping on the other side of the road. Armed units got out and the assassin got ready to fight. But then they turned to the other side and aimed at someone else. For a moment he thought he was dreaming. But he recognized his daughter who is 10 years older now. She was walking toward him and the guns were aimed at her. She saw him and froze. The assassin placed himself between his daughter and the attackers and rained bullets on them. He was hit several times, but he continued fighting till he killed everyone. He gave out a primaeval yell and dropped onto the floor. He saw his daughter running towards him and smiled. He knew there was no coming back this time. Light shone on him warmly and the assassin was dead in peace.
V: Envy
It has been a busy day in the office. Abhi is feeling so exhausted. He said in a weak tone, “I should go to bed early tonight!” Soon, he fell asleep. At 3 o’clock in the morning, there was someone knocking on the door continuously. Abhi woke up hesitantly, and he rushed to the door. As soon as he opened the door, he was startled for a second.
Abhi shouted, “Vikram, what are you doing here?”
Vikram rushed into Abhi’s living room while shouting, “Don’t leave them! Don’t leave them Abhi!”
Abhi was in shock. Vikram is Abhi’s best friend. They studied together. Abhi got the campus placement and Vikram took over his family’s business after his father’s demise. Abhi and Vikram met each other whenever they were free. In the past year, however, due to their busy schedule, they hardly met.
Abhi tried to calm his friend but Vikram was not in the mood to listen. He said strenuously, “Don’t leave them! They are the reason for my death.”
As soon as Vikram completed his sentence, Abhi felt a jerk in his spine. He didn’t know what to reply. He said in a tiny voice “You what?”
Vikram paused. Abhi ran to the fridge and brought ice water. Soon he reached the living room and he couldn’t believe his eyes. Vikram is not there in the living room.
Suddenly, the alarm rang, making the horrifying incident a dream. Abhi, however, could not treat the situation as a dream. Everything seemed real to him. Without any hesitation he dialed Vikram but the connection failed with the message saying the user is not in the coverage area.
As Abhi was too tired, soon he nodded off. He woke up when the phone rang. The call is from his friend Fahad. As soon as he heard the news, his heartbeat skipped for a second. Abhi pleaded with Fahad to tell him that it was a lie. Abhi could not digest the news of his best friend's death. He shouted, started throwing his things and hoped that it had to be a dream.
He went to Vikram’s house and reluctantly his eyes became red. He started crying by holding the cold palm of his friend. Everyone became silent as they knew the bonding between Abhi and Vikram. It became difficult for everyone to calm him.
After the cremation, everyone sat in the living room of Vikram’s house. Everyone started memorizing Vikram’s intelligence, charm and the role he played to develop his business after his father’s death. Abhi went to console Vikram’s brother, Sid. He observed Sid’s eyes were swollen and his face looked so tired. But Abhi couldn’t control himself until he knew the truth behind his best friend’s death. He asked Sid in a helpless way, “What happened, Sid?”
“It all happened because of that witch”, screamed Sid.
“What?”, Abhi asked him confusingly.
“You know that Natasha and Vikram have been in a relationship for almost 4 years, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I know. They are so serious about their relationship. What happened between them?”
“She refused to marry and humiliated Vikram in front of everyone. To forget that nightmare he started drinking alcohol. He always used to think about her”.
“As I stayed in New York for 6 months, I didn’t know much about it. How could she do that? After all, he helped her a lot. He supported her modeling career even though their family objected”, Abhi groaned.
“Yeah, Abhi. She got a marriage proposal from the top actor, Kabir. Without any hesitation she accepted, such a shameless person.”
“Did Vikram know about this?”
“Yeah, he did. Yesterday, both of their families decided to announce it officially in front of the media. Even after I insisted that Vikram shouldn’t go, he pushed me aside and drove the car after being intoxicated and… and… ”, Sid's voice trembled.
“It happened. The car hit the tree and brought sadness into our lives”, Sid started weeping.
Abhi calmed him and returned back to his home.
On the next day, he went to Natasha’s home. “Natasha mam is not at home. She went for a walk”, said Natasha’s maid.
Abhi waited for Natasha on the lawn. Natasha came back from the walk and greeted him, “Hey Abhi, it’s been a long time. How are….”, Abhi interrupted her.
“Stop it, Natasha. How could you? You know how much he loves you. Why did you do this to him”?
“You only know one side of the story, Abhi. You don’t know how he treated me and kept picking up fights with whomever I talked to. He treated me like a puppet. I tried to change him, but I failed horribly.”, her voice shaking terribly.
Abhi calmed her, “I don’t know anything about it, Sid is saying that you cheated Vikram.”
“That moron, Sid. He has a crush on me and forced me to love him. I said this to Vikram but he didn’t believe me. That was the day, my trust towards Vikram broke down and we separated.”
He went straight to Vikram’s house and dragged Sid down to the hall.
Vikram’s mother freaked out and shouted at Abhi. “What are you doing? He is my son, leave him”.
“I wish your words were true maa”, said Sid with tears rolling down his cheeks.
“I know that I’m not your son. I feel thankful, maa that you didn’t show any bias but papa always shouts at me and treats me like thrash. The girl I love chose Vikram over me. I’m a failure maa”, Sid yelled.
“Everyone praised him, learn from your brother blah blah… he too feels the same and treats me like I’m dumb. So, I showed him what his dumb brother can do. On that night, I made him drink too much and lied about Natasha’s marriage. Poor Vikram believed and drove the car...” confessed Sid while his weeping turned into a demonic laugh.
A little while later, Police handcuffed Sid and everyone thanked Abhi.
Abhi shouted, “Vikram, what are you doing here?”
Vikram rushed into Abhi’s living room while shouting, “Don’t leave them! Don’t leave them Abhi!”
Abhi was in shock. Vikram is Abhi’s best friend. They studied together. Abhi got the campus placement and Vikram took over his family’s business after his father’s demise. Abhi and Vikram met each other whenever they were free. In the past year, however, due to their busy schedule, they hardly met.
Abhi tried to calm his friend but Vikram was not in the mood to listen. He said strenuously, “Don’t leave them! They are the reason for my death.”
As soon as Vikram completed his sentence, Abhi felt a jerk in his spine. He didn’t know what to reply. He said in a tiny voice “You what?”
Vikram paused. Abhi ran to the fridge and brought ice water. Soon he reached the living room and he couldn’t believe his eyes. Vikram is not there in the living room.
Suddenly, the alarm rang, making the horrifying incident a dream. Abhi, however, could not treat the situation as a dream. Everything seemed real to him. Without any hesitation he dialed Vikram but the connection failed with the message saying the user is not in the coverage area.
As Abhi was too tired, soon he nodded off. He woke up when the phone rang. The call is from his friend Fahad. As soon as he heard the news, his heartbeat skipped for a second. Abhi pleaded with Fahad to tell him that it was a lie. Abhi could not digest the news of his best friend's death. He shouted, started throwing his things and hoped that it had to be a dream.
He went to Vikram’s house and reluctantly his eyes became red. He started crying by holding the cold palm of his friend. Everyone became silent as they knew the bonding between Abhi and Vikram. It became difficult for everyone to calm him.
After the cremation, everyone sat in the living room of Vikram’s house. Everyone started memorizing Vikram’s intelligence, charm and the role he played to develop his business after his father’s death. Abhi went to console Vikram’s brother, Sid. He observed Sid’s eyes were swollen and his face looked so tired. But Abhi couldn’t control himself until he knew the truth behind his best friend’s death. He asked Sid in a helpless way, “What happened, Sid?”
“It all happened because of that witch”, screamed Sid.
“What?”, Abhi asked him confusingly.
“You know that Natasha and Vikram have been in a relationship for almost 4 years, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I know. They are so serious about their relationship. What happened between them?”
“She refused to marry and humiliated Vikram in front of everyone. To forget that nightmare he started drinking alcohol. He always used to think about her”.
“As I stayed in New York for 6 months, I didn’t know much about it. How could she do that? After all, he helped her a lot. He supported her modeling career even though their family objected”, Abhi groaned.
“Yeah, Abhi. She got a marriage proposal from the top actor, Kabir. Without any hesitation she accepted, such a shameless person.”
“Did Vikram know about this?”
“Yeah, he did. Yesterday, both of their families decided to announce it officially in front of the media. Even after I insisted that Vikram shouldn’t go, he pushed me aside and drove the car after being intoxicated and… and… ”, Sid's voice trembled.
“It happened. The car hit the tree and brought sadness into our lives”, Sid started weeping.
Abhi calmed him and returned back to his home.
On the next day, he went to Natasha’s home. “Natasha mam is not at home. She went for a walk”, said Natasha’s maid.
Abhi waited for Natasha on the lawn. Natasha came back from the walk and greeted him, “Hey Abhi, it’s been a long time. How are….”, Abhi interrupted her.
“Stop it, Natasha. How could you? You know how much he loves you. Why did you do this to him”?
“You only know one side of the story, Abhi. You don’t know how he treated me and kept picking up fights with whomever I talked to. He treated me like a puppet. I tried to change him, but I failed horribly.”, her voice shaking terribly.
Abhi calmed her, “I don’t know anything about it, Sid is saying that you cheated Vikram.”
“That moron, Sid. He has a crush on me and forced me to love him. I said this to Vikram but he didn’t believe me. That was the day, my trust towards Vikram broke down and we separated.”
He went straight to Vikram’s house and dragged Sid down to the hall.
Vikram’s mother freaked out and shouted at Abhi. “What are you doing? He is my son, leave him”.
“I wish your words were true maa”, said Sid with tears rolling down his cheeks.
“I know that I’m not your son. I feel thankful, maa that you didn’t show any bias but papa always shouts at me and treats me like thrash. The girl I love chose Vikram over me. I’m a failure maa”, Sid yelled.
“Everyone praised him, learn from your brother blah blah… he too feels the same and treats me like I’m dumb. So, I showed him what his dumb brother can do. On that night, I made him drink too much and lied about Natasha’s marriage. Poor Vikram believed and drove the car...” confessed Sid while his weeping turned into a demonic laugh.
A little while later, Police handcuffed Sid and everyone thanked Abhi.
VI: Inbound
A knock on the door with a familiar voice calling out. Suddenly all the surrounding sounds drowned out, making the heartbeat get seemingly louder.
It always begins with a knock. A knock followed by the harsh sound of a door slamming against the wall. A man enters, pads through the one-room like a monster on the prowl, eyes bloodshot-full with a drink. He corners the trembling child. His movements are slow and deliberate like a seasoned actor, theatrically pulling out a well worn brown leather belt. He holds it by the end, the golden buckle swinging in the air, threateningly and starts curling it around his fist. The shiny metal of the buckle reflects in his squinty eyes. He snaps it in the air, the sharp sound echoing in the small room, looking at and savouring the fear emanating from the child. More than the red welts shining on the skin, this is what he loves, what he feeds on - the palpable fear, the shining tears, the dead look in the eyes, the resigned acceptance of her lot in life. He hits the child where it hurts the most - over the wounds of yesterday and the day before, over the cigarette burns and over the fading bruises. Over and over again, the dance of terror continues. The power, the look of pure evil that sneaks into his eyes, the satisfaction of feeding on the pain of a child, a bare waif that can’t stop this barbarism because she just doesn't know better.
I continue watching from the sidelines. Can he look through me? Am I even in the room? Is this a dream?
The child wails curled on the floor, shielding her heart. He keeps kicking her, dragging her by the arms and aiming at her stomach. She shouts, “Not the bun! Not the bun!”
The man screams, “It’s not a bun, you dimwitted bitch! It's a baby, a good for nothing, dumb defective baby just like you. Now shut up!" But her whimpers continue.
I want to go help her up. Stop this man but I am frozen - mind and body stuck in limbo.
With a guttural scream, he grabs her by the hair and bangs it on the side table. And she finally falls silent. The only sound is that of the spilt water dripping from the side of the table.
He slumps off to sleep in a corner. Soon, soft snores and the rattle of the clunky window are the only sounds heard.
By the next morning, nothing changes. The man continues to lie spread-eagled with blood drying around his neck and on his face and a kitchen knife piercing his neck.
And I remember. I remember feeling the cold steel in my hand. I remember… I remember standing up with the support of the table and walking woozily then seeing his unscathed face and seeing red. So I doused him in red, took his own blood and painted his face.
No one has knocked on the door since.
It always begins with a knock. A knock followed by the harsh sound of a door slamming against the wall. A man enters, pads through the one-room like a monster on the prowl, eyes bloodshot-full with a drink. He corners the trembling child. His movements are slow and deliberate like a seasoned actor, theatrically pulling out a well worn brown leather belt. He holds it by the end, the golden buckle swinging in the air, threateningly and starts curling it around his fist. The shiny metal of the buckle reflects in his squinty eyes. He snaps it in the air, the sharp sound echoing in the small room, looking at and savouring the fear emanating from the child. More than the red welts shining on the skin, this is what he loves, what he feeds on - the palpable fear, the shining tears, the dead look in the eyes, the resigned acceptance of her lot in life. He hits the child where it hurts the most - over the wounds of yesterday and the day before, over the cigarette burns and over the fading bruises. Over and over again, the dance of terror continues. The power, the look of pure evil that sneaks into his eyes, the satisfaction of feeding on the pain of a child, a bare waif that can’t stop this barbarism because she just doesn't know better.
I continue watching from the sidelines. Can he look through me? Am I even in the room? Is this a dream?
The child wails curled on the floor, shielding her heart. He keeps kicking her, dragging her by the arms and aiming at her stomach. She shouts, “Not the bun! Not the bun!”
The man screams, “It’s not a bun, you dimwitted bitch! It's a baby, a good for nothing, dumb defective baby just like you. Now shut up!" But her whimpers continue.
I want to go help her up. Stop this man but I am frozen - mind and body stuck in limbo.
With a guttural scream, he grabs her by the hair and bangs it on the side table. And she finally falls silent. The only sound is that of the spilt water dripping from the side of the table.
He slumps off to sleep in a corner. Soon, soft snores and the rattle of the clunky window are the only sounds heard.
By the next morning, nothing changes. The man continues to lie spread-eagled with blood drying around his neck and on his face and a kitchen knife piercing his neck.
And I remember. I remember feeling the cold steel in my hand. I remember… I remember standing up with the support of the table and walking woozily then seeing his unscathed face and seeing red. So I doused him in red, took his own blood and painted his face.
No one has knocked on the door since.
VII: Memorable Moments with Grandparents
“It’s vacation time!”
Instead of going for a normal picnic with friends this time, I have decided to spend time with my grandparents in their native village. I was overwhelmed about this trip, so I quickly booked the tickets and shared my trip details with them over the phone; while speaking, I could visualize the sense of joy in their voice. When I reached the village train station, regardless of their age, both of them visited the railway station to receive their beloved grandson with so much love and affection. Believe me, the elders’ love is priceless.
We returned back home from the railway station in a bullock cart. That was the first time I was transported in that vehicle. Though it was very hot during summer, it was an enjoyable experience throughout our ride and very comfortable as well. On the way back home, my grandparents narrated various events & activities happening around so that I can get a feel of the rural atmosphere and as an urbanite; it was very interesting for me to know the little things. Everywhere it was surrounded by tall trees, huge mountains & little plants with beautiful flowers, just mind-blowing to see Mother Nature. We saw a group of people engaged in pottery activities and prepared porcelain, mud, and ceramic pots.
When I entered home, a small cat jumped and welcomed us by saying, “Meow”, surely one of the cutest creatures that can give company to old people. My grandmother gave milk to that little one and gave a hi-fi for welcoming her!
When I went out to witness the greenery, a lot of birds in the backyard were chirping melodiously & squirrels squeaking in and around the house. I was very happy to see the old couple, with beautiful hearts, feed all these creatures and maintain the tranquillity of rural life.
My grandpa walked a mile to get groceries & food items for cooking. Markets had fresh vegetables & dairy products that were directly sold by farmers at nominal prices. At least for a day, I was happy that I could carry the purchased items and reduce the burden for him. A special food menu was prepared by my beloved grandma on that day just to make sure that my arrival is celebrated and my tummy is filled with good food. Home food was served hot in clean banana leaves and everyone sat together on the floor to enjoy our togetherness. I thought grandma wouldn’t remember my taste & the foods I like, but I was very surprised to see the food menu and immediately kissed her with love. I recollected the lines I read somewhere, “Grandparents will always remember us even if we forget in our busy lives.”
We took a long walk to enjoy the scenery in the evening breeze and visited the famous nearby temple to offer some puja. In return, my grandpa showed me the farm field which we own and explained to me the various items that we grow in our field.
The moment they saw me using a smartphone, they were very curious to know about the gadgets in general since they had a simple landline to speak to neighbours/relatives, which was sufficient for their daily communications. I taught them to use smartphones and how they can use them to monitor their health, communicate immediately and take pictures of their farms & houses. I also insisted on using it, because they were staying alone in the village and needed some moral support at this age.
One fine day, a knock on the door with a familiar voice calling out. Suddenly, all surrounding sounds drowned out making the heartbeat get seemingly louder. It was none other than my grandfather knocking on the door in the evening when he saw the farm field drowning in excessive water and surrounded by insects all over the field spoiling the crops grown. I couldn’t see him at this stage so immediately wanted to help him out using the little technology I learned in my life. I used a motor pump to clear out all the water quickly and used a drone to spray the pesticides all over the place to kill the insects instantly. We washed all the crops again to make sure that it is fresh and back to normal with sunshine.
I taught him simple tech tips & how technology can be used to monitor the farm fields & agriculture process and also installed an app on his new phone which I gifted recently, to monitor the weather regularly and control the crop irrigation systems. It was pure bliss to see the smile on his face after saving his crops & land! I was blown away to see his curiosity about technology at this age.
I wanted to have a happy memory on the last day of my stay, so we took a selfie together and played some traditional games like pallangozhi, thayam & watched a movie together to cherish the good memories.
Finally, I came back to Chennai with lots of memories, experiences & learnings in agriculture. My recent trip really gave food for thought to create a revolution in urban agriculture. I formed a small team and started exploring the soil around, crops to grow, and efficient ways to do agriculture in city lands. During weekends, we conducted training sessions with nearby professionals and educated them to join us in this initiative. We also took steps to create awareness to all the youngsters & future gen people to take up farming as their hobby and spend their valuable time to change the future of agriculture.
One fine day, joyful to see my grandparents using the technology they learned to do a video call to my number, and in return, I talked about my recent initiative and showed the farmlands to them, they were so happy to see all the youngsters in farm fields along with me and blessed us for the future farming.
Instead of going for a normal picnic with friends this time, I have decided to spend time with my grandparents in their native village. I was overwhelmed about this trip, so I quickly booked the tickets and shared my trip details with them over the phone; while speaking, I could visualize the sense of joy in their voice. When I reached the village train station, regardless of their age, both of them visited the railway station to receive their beloved grandson with so much love and affection. Believe me, the elders’ love is priceless.
We returned back home from the railway station in a bullock cart. That was the first time I was transported in that vehicle. Though it was very hot during summer, it was an enjoyable experience throughout our ride and very comfortable as well. On the way back home, my grandparents narrated various events & activities happening around so that I can get a feel of the rural atmosphere and as an urbanite; it was very interesting for me to know the little things. Everywhere it was surrounded by tall trees, huge mountains & little plants with beautiful flowers, just mind-blowing to see Mother Nature. We saw a group of people engaged in pottery activities and prepared porcelain, mud, and ceramic pots.
When I entered home, a small cat jumped and welcomed us by saying, “Meow”, surely one of the cutest creatures that can give company to old people. My grandmother gave milk to that little one and gave a hi-fi for welcoming her!
When I went out to witness the greenery, a lot of birds in the backyard were chirping melodiously & squirrels squeaking in and around the house. I was very happy to see the old couple, with beautiful hearts, feed all these creatures and maintain the tranquillity of rural life.
My grandpa walked a mile to get groceries & food items for cooking. Markets had fresh vegetables & dairy products that were directly sold by farmers at nominal prices. At least for a day, I was happy that I could carry the purchased items and reduce the burden for him. A special food menu was prepared by my beloved grandma on that day just to make sure that my arrival is celebrated and my tummy is filled with good food. Home food was served hot in clean banana leaves and everyone sat together on the floor to enjoy our togetherness. I thought grandma wouldn’t remember my taste & the foods I like, but I was very surprised to see the food menu and immediately kissed her with love. I recollected the lines I read somewhere, “Grandparents will always remember us even if we forget in our busy lives.”
We took a long walk to enjoy the scenery in the evening breeze and visited the famous nearby temple to offer some puja. In return, my grandpa showed me the farm field which we own and explained to me the various items that we grow in our field.
The moment they saw me using a smartphone, they were very curious to know about the gadgets in general since they had a simple landline to speak to neighbours/relatives, which was sufficient for their daily communications. I taught them to use smartphones and how they can use them to monitor their health, communicate immediately and take pictures of their farms & houses. I also insisted on using it, because they were staying alone in the village and needed some moral support at this age.
One fine day, a knock on the door with a familiar voice calling out. Suddenly, all surrounding sounds drowned out making the heartbeat get seemingly louder. It was none other than my grandfather knocking on the door in the evening when he saw the farm field drowning in excessive water and surrounded by insects all over the field spoiling the crops grown. I couldn’t see him at this stage so immediately wanted to help him out using the little technology I learned in my life. I used a motor pump to clear out all the water quickly and used a drone to spray the pesticides all over the place to kill the insects instantly. We washed all the crops again to make sure that it is fresh and back to normal with sunshine.
I taught him simple tech tips & how technology can be used to monitor the farm fields & agriculture process and also installed an app on his new phone which I gifted recently, to monitor the weather regularly and control the crop irrigation systems. It was pure bliss to see the smile on his face after saving his crops & land! I was blown away to see his curiosity about technology at this age.
I wanted to have a happy memory on the last day of my stay, so we took a selfie together and played some traditional games like pallangozhi, thayam & watched a movie together to cherish the good memories.
Finally, I came back to Chennai with lots of memories, experiences & learnings in agriculture. My recent trip really gave food for thought to create a revolution in urban agriculture. I formed a small team and started exploring the soil around, crops to grow, and efficient ways to do agriculture in city lands. During weekends, we conducted training sessions with nearby professionals and educated them to join us in this initiative. We also took steps to create awareness to all the youngsters & future gen people to take up farming as their hobby and spend their valuable time to change the future of agriculture.
One fine day, joyful to see my grandparents using the technology they learned to do a video call to my number, and in return, I talked about my recent initiative and showed the farmlands to them, they were so happy to see all the youngsters in farm fields along with me and blessed us for the future farming.
VIII: The Yearning
TRRRRRRRRINGGGGG!
TRRRRRRRRINGGGGG
TRRRRRRRRINGGGGG!
Blared the alarm from the phone.
This alarm, just an hour before midnight, was a reminder for her that she should get to bed and end the day.
It was at that time that she heard a faint sound that seemed like it was the main door knob opening.
She wanted to go out to the living room and check if anyone had come into the house, but she was way too lazy to get out of her cosy bed. The next day was going to be a special one and she didn’t want to trouble herself.
She was supposed to be alone for the month as her flatmates had gone to their respective homes.
She went back to reading her book “All the light we cannot see”, a war novel about a blind French girl and a German boy who try to survive the devastation of World War II.
A little while after that, she saw a blinking light from under the door, it wasn’t natural but that didn’t seem to push her to get out of the bed.
She tried to put the distractions aside and went back to reading about how, during the war, despite the situations or circumstances that were in front of them, people tended to be very understanding and find ways to help each other.
She hears one more sound and is pissed with what’s happening outside her room, she texts on the flat’s Whatsapp group asking if anyone is home to which the others reply negatively.
She wanted to get back to her book, but the sudden thought of not having anyone around her got to her head and she started sobbing.
Being alone and lonely is different but when they both hit you at the same time, it is a combination that you’d never want to encounter. The deafening silence in the home until then and the sudden distractions with the sound, the light and the flow of thoughts that push into longing for someone or someone’s touch.
She couldn’t take it all. She pulled out her diary and journaled her feelings about the lonely feeling, the situations that brought her to the present juncture, the future, the plans, the schedules and the unending yearning to be with someone just to feel normal again.
She was lost in her thoughts when she saw a couple more flashes of light from under the door, she was convinced that the house was getting robbed or maybe someone sneaked inside the house.
She set aside her diary, pulled out her pepper spray from the bag and got out of the bed. She went to the door trying to listen to any noises on the other side of the door.
She heard whispers of a few people talking among themselves about knocking on the door.
A knock on the door with a familiar voice calling out. Suddenly, all surrounding sounds drowned out making the heartbeat louder.
She froze when she heard the second knock.
Firmly holding on to the doorknob, she slowly pulled down the latch without making any sound.
She took a deep breath. A drop of sweat trickled down her forehead over her cheek.
She turned the knob and slowly opened the door…
TRRRRRRRINNGGGG TRINNNNNNGGGGGGGG - The phone rang.
The moment she opened the door “ SUURRPPRRISSEEE SOBHITA!”, a group of around eight people shouted.
In a state of shock, fear and ecstasy, she sprayed the pepper spray right into the eyes of her best friend Sesh.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY SOOOO!”
She broke down into tears looking at all the people around her and hugging every person who was there to be with her at that moment.
She apologised to Sesh and sat down “Thank you all, I’m blessed to have you all here with me now. You don’t…… and sobbed again clutching Sesh.
She couldn’t explain what it meant to her when just a few moments ago, the thought of missing people around her sent her into crying to suddenly having the best of her friends around in such a short time was magical and she couldn’t control her emotions.
She wasn’t feeling lonely anymore, not at least that moment when she was with all her friends.
Maybe there is a light that brings us all out of darkness and maybe that light is our friends, family or partners and if there’s no one, just like the blind French girl, maybe there’s a German boy out there waiting to help us out of the wreckage of a life that we are going through.
TRRRRRRRRINGGGGG
TRRRRRRRRINGGGGG!
Blared the alarm from the phone.
This alarm, just an hour before midnight, was a reminder for her that she should get to bed and end the day.
It was at that time that she heard a faint sound that seemed like it was the main door knob opening.
She wanted to go out to the living room and check if anyone had come into the house, but she was way too lazy to get out of her cosy bed. The next day was going to be a special one and she didn’t want to trouble herself.
She was supposed to be alone for the month as her flatmates had gone to their respective homes.
She went back to reading her book “All the light we cannot see”, a war novel about a blind French girl and a German boy who try to survive the devastation of World War II.
A little while after that, she saw a blinking light from under the door, it wasn’t natural but that didn’t seem to push her to get out of the bed.
She tried to put the distractions aside and went back to reading about how, during the war, despite the situations or circumstances that were in front of them, people tended to be very understanding and find ways to help each other.
She hears one more sound and is pissed with what’s happening outside her room, she texts on the flat’s Whatsapp group asking if anyone is home to which the others reply negatively.
She wanted to get back to her book, but the sudden thought of not having anyone around her got to her head and she started sobbing.
Being alone and lonely is different but when they both hit you at the same time, it is a combination that you’d never want to encounter. The deafening silence in the home until then and the sudden distractions with the sound, the light and the flow of thoughts that push into longing for someone or someone’s touch.
She couldn’t take it all. She pulled out her diary and journaled her feelings about the lonely feeling, the situations that brought her to the present juncture, the future, the plans, the schedules and the unending yearning to be with someone just to feel normal again.
She was lost in her thoughts when she saw a couple more flashes of light from under the door, she was convinced that the house was getting robbed or maybe someone sneaked inside the house.
She set aside her diary, pulled out her pepper spray from the bag and got out of the bed. She went to the door trying to listen to any noises on the other side of the door.
She heard whispers of a few people talking among themselves about knocking on the door.
A knock on the door with a familiar voice calling out. Suddenly, all surrounding sounds drowned out making the heartbeat louder.
She froze when she heard the second knock.
Firmly holding on to the doorknob, she slowly pulled down the latch without making any sound.
She took a deep breath. A drop of sweat trickled down her forehead over her cheek.
She turned the knob and slowly opened the door…
TRRRRRRRINNGGGG TRINNNNNNGGGGGGGG - The phone rang.
The moment she opened the door “ SUURRPPRRISSEEE SOBHITA!”, a group of around eight people shouted.
In a state of shock, fear and ecstasy, she sprayed the pepper spray right into the eyes of her best friend Sesh.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY SOOOO!”
She broke down into tears looking at all the people around her and hugging every person who was there to be with her at that moment.
She apologised to Sesh and sat down “Thank you all, I’m blessed to have you all here with me now. You don’t…… and sobbed again clutching Sesh.
She couldn’t explain what it meant to her when just a few moments ago, the thought of missing people around her sent her into crying to suddenly having the best of her friends around in such a short time was magical and she couldn’t control her emotions.
She wasn’t feeling lonely anymore, not at least that moment when she was with all her friends.
Maybe there is a light that brings us all out of darkness and maybe that light is our friends, family or partners and if there’s no one, just like the blind French girl, maybe there’s a German boy out there waiting to help us out of the wreckage of a life that we are going through.
IX: Wakanda Forever
As a child, my favourite pastime was going for walks with my grandmother in my sweet home town and loved hearing the bedtime stories by my mother. These stories were mostly derived from the preachings of some wise holy men, whose sermons we often attended and few from the enlivening artforms of harikatha and burrakathalu which were staged during the festive seasons. Though having forty winks in between, a few stories made an indelible impression in my mind.
During one of the sessions, a holy man once said in a humorous tone, “There are only two people with eternal bliss of happiness, one who could digest his food within two hours of his supper and one who after a day-long work, dozes off with loud snores, absolutely heedless of the inmates of the room.”
The hall was filled with laughter, but I took some time to get it. With these golden tenets in my mind, I always tried to live a demure, simple yet happy contented life with my family for forty years, still enjoying going for walks and above all having sound sleep after all my household duties. Sound sleep was where I always slipped into the fantasy world of dreams which I account for avidly reading the books like Alice in Wonderland and other fairy tales that the 90’s kids usually read. Though I couldn’t really understand the subtle alchemy of my dreams and often wondered as a kid which ethereal place they come from, I eventually and more maturely tried to distinguish whether their origin was in my heart or in the encephalon, I cease to explain, maybe never can! But clearly, they made a deep impact.
One fine afternoon, after the daily devoir, I lay relaxed on my easy chair which I’m very fond of, for my siesta, alongside my french window in my halcyonic living room, when I heard a knock at the door with a familiar voice. I went and opened the door, quite surprised as well as exhilarated to see my Mom at my doorstep with lots of shopping bags from an Expo. I took her in with a gleam in my eyes and asked her for lunch, she told me she completed hers, so I fetched some coconut water for her.
Women and shopping are an inextricable combination. My sweet mom with her soft black hair and huge bindi was bustling in my living room, spreading her shopping bags on the sofa exhibiting all her felicity and I eagerly sat before her to have a look into what was inside the bags.
She took out a beautiful handwoven saree, I loved the colour, she evocatively let me know that she hadn’t bargained much since it was a direct sale by an old Mangalagiri handloom worker who is hardly accredited for his hard work. Later, she took out a cutlery set which we shared, then she came up with some doormats which were reasonably priced and she finally got to enjoy her bargaining spirit for the exquisite jute-cotton dining mats which were both cute and elegant. Lastly, she has taken out a few aesthetic terracotta pots for the kitchen and plants.
I really longed for some terracotta ear but suppressed my desire with a grin like a Cheshire cat. Perhaps, it is not easy for a married daughter to ask for and take from her parents. It was early evening, I made some tea and had biscuits, both of us loved this time of the day, and we chatted before she got up to leave. I went along with her to the porch and into the courtyard accompanied by the euphonious birds chirping and thin dulcet sounds of wind. She said goodbye and take care, turning back and walking. I wasn’t feeling deserted but when I saw her glasses in my hands, I ran my way out to stop her but she didn't seem to listen to me calling out to her and I screamed like a little girl but was quite appalled when she took no notice. I tried to run fast but then something stopped and stopped me like a wall. Yes, it was my dupatta pinned onto a nut in my easy chair. Suddenly, ALL SURROUNDING SOUNDS DROWNED OUT MAKING THE HEARTBEAT GET SEEMINGLY LOUDER. Yeah... I was dreaming, dreaming my HEART out or else how can I explain my mother having soft black hair (uncoloured, mind you!), coming to life and greeting me after 25 years of leaving to the heavenly abode, to meet her little daughter who is nearly approaching half a century of her innings. What a day!
Soon, it was supper and while getting to sleep I shared my fantasy with my husband and kids. The kids of today, you see! My little son stopped at nothing to narrate his favourite dream with a whole world of Zombies against whom he, with his brother, constructed a protective hologram around his family and town and their warcry being “Wakanda Forever”.
During one of the sessions, a holy man once said in a humorous tone, “There are only two people with eternal bliss of happiness, one who could digest his food within two hours of his supper and one who after a day-long work, dozes off with loud snores, absolutely heedless of the inmates of the room.”
The hall was filled with laughter, but I took some time to get it. With these golden tenets in my mind, I always tried to live a demure, simple yet happy contented life with my family for forty years, still enjoying going for walks and above all having sound sleep after all my household duties. Sound sleep was where I always slipped into the fantasy world of dreams which I account for avidly reading the books like Alice in Wonderland and other fairy tales that the 90’s kids usually read. Though I couldn’t really understand the subtle alchemy of my dreams and often wondered as a kid which ethereal place they come from, I eventually and more maturely tried to distinguish whether their origin was in my heart or in the encephalon, I cease to explain, maybe never can! But clearly, they made a deep impact.
One fine afternoon, after the daily devoir, I lay relaxed on my easy chair which I’m very fond of, for my siesta, alongside my french window in my halcyonic living room, when I heard a knock at the door with a familiar voice. I went and opened the door, quite surprised as well as exhilarated to see my Mom at my doorstep with lots of shopping bags from an Expo. I took her in with a gleam in my eyes and asked her for lunch, she told me she completed hers, so I fetched some coconut water for her.
Women and shopping are an inextricable combination. My sweet mom with her soft black hair and huge bindi was bustling in my living room, spreading her shopping bags on the sofa exhibiting all her felicity and I eagerly sat before her to have a look into what was inside the bags.
She took out a beautiful handwoven saree, I loved the colour, she evocatively let me know that she hadn’t bargained much since it was a direct sale by an old Mangalagiri handloom worker who is hardly accredited for his hard work. Later, she took out a cutlery set which we shared, then she came up with some doormats which were reasonably priced and she finally got to enjoy her bargaining spirit for the exquisite jute-cotton dining mats which were both cute and elegant. Lastly, she has taken out a few aesthetic terracotta pots for the kitchen and plants.
I really longed for some terracotta ear but suppressed my desire with a grin like a Cheshire cat. Perhaps, it is not easy for a married daughter to ask for and take from her parents. It was early evening, I made some tea and had biscuits, both of us loved this time of the day, and we chatted before she got up to leave. I went along with her to the porch and into the courtyard accompanied by the euphonious birds chirping and thin dulcet sounds of wind. She said goodbye and take care, turning back and walking. I wasn’t feeling deserted but when I saw her glasses in my hands, I ran my way out to stop her but she didn't seem to listen to me calling out to her and I screamed like a little girl but was quite appalled when she took no notice. I tried to run fast but then something stopped and stopped me like a wall. Yes, it was my dupatta pinned onto a nut in my easy chair. Suddenly, ALL SURROUNDING SOUNDS DROWNED OUT MAKING THE HEARTBEAT GET SEEMINGLY LOUDER. Yeah... I was dreaming, dreaming my HEART out or else how can I explain my mother having soft black hair (uncoloured, mind you!), coming to life and greeting me after 25 years of leaving to the heavenly abode, to meet her little daughter who is nearly approaching half a century of her innings. What a day!
Soon, it was supper and while getting to sleep I shared my fantasy with my husband and kids. The kids of today, you see! My little son stopped at nothing to narrate his favourite dream with a whole world of Zombies against whom he, with his brother, constructed a protective hologram around his family and town and their warcry being “Wakanda Forever”.
