EXTRIMITIES!

Mr.Raman was very punctual. No clock could deny it! He was always there…well on time, well prepared, be it a wedding or a funeral or a friends meet or believe me ‘A shops open’. Punctuality brought a smile upon his face…The idea of reaching ages before and waiting for it to start, The ‘Eve’ of it was most important for him.

'Auto'…she shouted, running in the rain, holding an Umbrella, not really caring to hold it in place…
There, It went right past her splashing a little mud on her… ‘calm down', she told herself…The disgusted expression on her face was free with all the mud. It is after all Nitrogen, carbon and a few bad elements that I will wash down with H2O.she consoled herself, running on the road for an auto…catching one at last and climbing in hastily…she went and stopped by their house, as her Dad hopped in with the baggage speaking angrily ‘Why did you have to shop now?’ He yelled… ‘the weathers even more pleasant’, he mocked never leaving that subtle humor even if it was yelling…and the Traffic..damn..he dint stop muttering while Arti settled and looked at her watch.5:25…too early to catch a 7 ‘o’ clock train with about 10km of travel. ‘What else can she do stop themselves from reaching so early’????.She gave up, settling to enjoy the rain and plugged in her player.

Thanks, Mr.Raman smiled at the driver and added ‘Keep the change’
6 : 00 PM and there they were…already for the 7 ‘o’ clock train…she looked up, frowning at her dad, who was slightly embarrassed for his overestimation but nevertheless heaved with pride, belly out and moustache wide….meanwhile Arti called half the population…family and friends explaining her plight, pausing only to ask if they were listening…Mr.Raman nudged her after a while, ‘The phone bill’ his look read and Arti switched to texting.

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Mrs.Raman yelled at her kids…’Grab the keys and lock the house’...as Arti fetched the keys and hastened to lock, she shouted ‘Wait’, ‘let me get us some cotton for our ears, we may catch a cold’ and ran in and ran out…she ran back yet again disappointing Arti while Anup just looked on…she brought some sindoor and smeared it on their heads ‘Pray the lord for a safe journey’ she said closing her eyes in prayer and pausing.. ‘Praise the Lord if we make the journey’ Arti shouted. Arti was a mere earthling bothered about daily life, traffic, time and trains…she couldn’t recall God at such times. Anup dint speak a word but shifted the luggage to the Lift at his own pace…his face read ‘what’s the point’, she’ll take her own Good time anyway….he was disappointed at the idea of leaving his Xbox for around a week and maybe dint mind missing the train.

Arti kept glancing at her watch, she couldn’t help it…5:50 and they were still nearing the station for the 6 ‘o’ clock train….Puffing and panting they reached the platform and climbed in the right coach, while the coolie followed breathless…5:57 and they stepped into the train blocking the way for other last minute boarders and hastily paying the porter…Mrs. Raman’s bargaining skills only got better under pressure…she was justifying why seventy rupees was very genuine for that young porter who had asked a hundred…while the train moved on…
Arti recalled this incident to her dad filling time and laughed at his jokes on her mom, nevertheless making it a point to recount it to her mom later.

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Mr.chaturvedi was a staunch religionist. Every ritual he practiced and every action he executed had a religious significance. He felt conscious of it. If the act lacked it, he created it symbolizing it with myth or cipher or sometimes madness. He believed that his Life comprised of Miracles and dramatized incidents from life adding significance with his commentary and expressions. He was well versed in the Upanishad’s and Geeta and this life, he felt was significant and purposeful.

The early hours of dawn saw Mr. Chaturvedi in a deep trance resounding the room with the sound of ‘Aum’ and reading out the various mantras and chants, resonating the house with a bell in one hand and a firepit(Arti) in the other, decking every idol in their room with flowers, sindhoor, chandan and finally the incense that filled the room and out so much, He felt lifted as it got difficult to breathe…Maybe this peculiar suffocation confused him to ‘being lifted..’
Cough cough…His wife coughed from the bed, ‘oh stop it’, she whined knowing full well it was of no use….whining and getting ignored was a part of the ritual…
Cough cough…it got louder
“What’s the point in all the prayer if you suffer your wife???” Mrs. Chaturvedi’s shouts were alas drowned in the flood of chants, accompanied by the bell….
He then settled for the main ritual, he went towards his much admired Aum sculpture made out of sapphire and applied all that was applicable on the glass case in which the idol rested. He had a separate light and air-conditioning for that glass case to keep the stone long-lasting and all this protection was for the main reason that no one had touch the idol. He believed that it was charged and unless touched by someone really deserving, that which he was aspiring to become through his rituals…One couldn’t touch the idol.


"The goal which all the Vedas declare, which all austerities aim at, and which men desire when they lead the life of continence … is Aum. This syllable Aum is indeed Brahman. Whosoever knows this syllable obtains all that he desires. This is the best support; this is the highest support. Whosoever knows this support is adored in the world of Brahma."
~ Katha Upanishad .

He felt elevated as he experience the stupor that was intoxicating him… the more he concentrated on those lines…The more he entered a daze.

After the main idol was done,
He now read the Upanishad’s verse repeatedly decking every Om idol in his altar with flowers and in all the process, not touching them. While the ceremony seemed to complete, Mr.s Chaturvedi was ready with the offering that they put before all the idols and Mr.Chaturvedi sprinkled water on them all, settling down to eat the offering and after he heard his own burp, he seemed satisfied and waited while Mrs chaturvedi made him Pan from beetle leaves and nuts.

Chewing Pan and dressed in his favorite attire, A silk dhoti and smearing Ash on his forehead with three of his fingers, he set out for his daily walk to meet Mr.Avadhani and discuss the weather, politics, Bangalores Traffic, Newspapers, petrol prices, today’s generation, cricket, price of beetle nuts, quality of cloves etc…

He set out in his usual way and found that the colony seemed blocked by some commotion and mourning at someone’s death in the neighborhood. wanting to avoid the sadness, the deaths air he’d catch and the bath over his head he had to take after going home, what after seeing a dead body?, He decided ‘no-no’ and traced the main roads way on the busy streets of Bangalore to Avadhanis house.

As he walked on thinking of death and the obvious fear it caused, he stopped in his tracks looking at the wall nearby, Gaping at it…anger, frustration and Rage filling him. The wall was adorned by spit marks, dried urine and waste that was right over it…and that was not all…The wall read…”plz. Do not spit or Urinate here” and had a huge ‘Aum’ painted over it! Needless to mention, religious blackmail dint seem to work what it was meant to…It only worked on Chaturvedi’s anger, rejection, disgust and what not? He stood staring while the busy Bangalore Traffic went past him, all the noise dint seem to bother him like before…he sensed something…something beyond….



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Goutam stood first again…He was walking back from school with Arti by his side, who ranked second and eyed him with jealous mixed admiration.
‘so, she asked…what you planning for today?…Oh wait, Mr. first has to study’…she mocked.
Goutam nodded…No not until the exams tomorrow, what’s tomorrow?, he asked an amazed Arti who was sick of this genius who dint keep track,who always kept his cool, who just came and went and always stood first. Arti was ever suspicious of what he did and that was the main reason she hanged around with him, even if the whole school linked them up.
Goutam was chilled out with the gossip and enjoyed all the attention. They also studied together so Arti couldn’t understand what is that she missed???

Life was slow…They just sat in the school grounds while Goutam rested his head on Arti’s shoulder…she shook it off rolling her eyes…he decided he would bug her later…maybe in a better mood and offered her a chewing gum…They sat chewing it, not talking much while the interval just passed…next class was Physics and moments after the physics sir entered, yet after a hundred failed attempts, they seem to doze away by his sleepy lecture and decided, they’d beg notes later and began playing bingo, hangman, Tic-tac-toe, Bollywood, Hollywood pretending to take notes and keep sleep at bay……….
The Physics teach left with a note that he’d conduct a test the coming day and this shook away the sleep from their faces.
Alas, Arti moaned…Night out!


It was 2am and Goutam texed, ‘Hai ssup?’, Arti was running around in her room, books lying open on her bead, papers thrown helter-skelter, phone under a pillow and she searched it out before replying angrily…’Dreaming about ya’….He sent a huge smiley and a few hearts .she blushed but brushed away the feeling and concentrated back on Physics.
It was 3am and Arti was on phone, as Goutam explained the principle of Logic gates though both dint seem to listen to it in class that day….
Arti was still amazed and listened on….
4am and Arti seemed to doze off…she knew what would wake her and texted Goutam, his reply was instant….again she wondered and carried on….



Hai, he catcalled from far off, while Arti waved…’All the Best’ they wished each other and sat for the test. Arti struggled through the peculiar feeling of sleep and the immense feat of pouring out all that she’s mugged up in one night… ‘First plz…atleast this time…’ This line ran in her mind! She glanced at Goutam, playing with his pen and trying to pull the hair of the girl in his front…she rolled her eyes yet again and coughed loudly…their usual code…

He turned around with a stupid grin while she just scowled….15 min more, called the invigilator and Goutam was already out waiting for Arti, whle she shuffled through her pages, checking and rechecking and came out well after time….

Goutam stood smiling and they jogged out…happy to rid the exam, discussing the paper and settled in the canteen while Arti reflected, ‘Where was this calm when I so wanted it yesterday’????.Phew, she thought, the exam went great and Goutam rested on her shoulder again…she dint mind, all this peace and calm…no mugging up, and sitting with someone who really liked you inspite of your…yes, she had to admit Attitude???
She just smiled….She wanted time to stand still, let everything pause………………………………………………………..
While she relished the sensation of being free, without duty, without responsibility, without the feeling of being answerable, without all the care’s and bothers of the world….

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Of course you can!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Can you believe you can sit where you’re sitting before this screen and wonder all that’s about and around You and wonder and wonder and keep wondering….Can you believe the fact that we can play with words…mere alphabets we have memorized and we’re bringing meaning in…what not? We’re bringing Science, Religion, Poetry, Madness, Imagination…I’m even trying to explain what I’m explaining with what I’m explaining. Can You believe that these series of dots put together at some time, take a shape willing to express anything you want…. can you believe, you’ve tuned your mind to think in your language, feel in your dialect and bring it out along with the correct spelling, expression and punctuation. Can you believe, this is called education…This learning, partly subconscious and partly conscious…has taken years of your lifetime, childhood, most of your school life which otherwise I bet you, You wouldn’t even have dreamt about it…..Can you believe these alphabets You are using to generate feelings, create emotions…Can You believe, that a few alphabets together and you are able to cause Love, pain and hatred and sometimes new and peculiar feelings in the person you desire…Can you believe that these alphabets are connecting people far off across the globe, with technology aided…Can you believe these mere alphabets are more branded than Tommy or Reebok…No imitation possible whatsoever and it’s the damned same all around the world…Every person with the ability to read and write, what we call literate is able to commute with the same alphabets….so branded, globalised, Internationalized, so coool………….Can you believe, all this started out with a sing song in your PP’s where you read the alphabets and saw pictures to remember them…Can you belive you’ve trained your mind enough and far from when pics formed first and the word later to… listen to the words, see the text and then imagine the picture….Can you belive you can now follow these multipath and not feel any endeavor.. can you believe you can shift and use parts of your mind the way you want... and with this immense education that’s so hyped about, you are not never taught to balance your sides….Can you believe, that your physical actions actually help enhance the respective sides of the brain and this interconnection is not taught but we memorize every country and continents Map(Todays education, they do). Can you believe we’ve leant to use the alphabet to describe this drained out feeling…after your saying something and dunno where its leading to…Can u believe, your subconscious somehow relates this to life…can you believe that what you’re doing, learning will give you what you want?, that happiness and joy…Can you believe in what u find happiness??? Can you believe that the path your seeking right now is correct? Can you believe that this existence, this breath, this provision, this education, this time it takes for it all…This birth has a purpose???Can you believe mere alphabets have made an irregular pattern of thought leading me nowhere…can u believe your subconscious always ends in what you want??Can you believe that to bring order from this chaos…there has to be a pause…………..

His Art...His Life...

He wanted to capture that ‘breathtaking beauty’. It was his imagination, delusion but it was certainly there…he sat down to sketch, fidgeting in his chair, elbows on the table until he got that correct comfortable position. It was past midnight and the only sound was his own breath and a queer sound that always accompanied darkness… ‘That led the blind to their destination, that which could answer your queries only if you listened while it answered…’ This, he often wondered, if his ears already held in them, like Inertia of sound…all the sound couldn’t really be shut at once and the leftovers were not without use…

The toes formed…tender and feminine. He began shading the right parts near the nails…This monotonous act got him thinking while his subconscious was absorbed shading…at times he thought of the outcome, the finale, the masterpiece completed…this alone gave him the purpose to stay put…only while he knew that every dot, every stroke, every shade, every movement, every blink of his eye brought a new perspective to examine and perfect it until he fell in love with his art more and more. At times, the very thought of how those subtle nuances could bring in more life was refreshing…This thought was an elixir to his life and art, quite synonymic now.

This delusion was demanding more life from him this time, he was being lost in a flood of feelings as this work of art took shape…Now he longed to see that girl, who played with his senses, she controlled his emotions and yet he loved her…he began to get a queer sensation that she was watching him sketch…he felt silly, but nonetheless assayed hard to make it impeccable.

He dispute whether or not to sketch a necklace and decided he wanted a slight chain, almost like it wasn’t there and got distinct only if one looked on… with a loud locket that fell down onto her bosom. As he got to her lips, he felt a deep ache, he deciphered its cause was to see it ending …The joy was to conclude.
He was quick with the nose, proper position, a deep breath and a quick stroke…Lo…you could believe it had a perfect bone and muscle behind it!

Dawn broke and she was almost there, only her hair needed shading and he accomplished it patiently, feeling burnt with ecstasy…he paused by every stroke, only to review and relish the feeling.

As she came by, he felt endless stripping pain…a low and flashy feeling in his stomach…
He looked into her eyes and the pain deepened…he only looked on…sighing with longing, she was his masterpiece, his own, his Life and the more he finished it, the more he seemed to lose himself…to what? It’s a mere sketch…This thought never crossed his mind. Far from reality and letting the madness rule, he never once felt it was a sketch…a play of his pencil… a piece of wood, graphite, wax and calcium carbonate and to ice the cake, his imagination????

The doorbell brought him back from wherever he was…maybe from the world of art and its elation… his very breath and Love… ‘Breath and love’, he reflected…what else would you want to survive??? He stared at the girl an knew he was in love… he was looking at the love of his life…smilingly, he got up to push his chair back an carried that smile to the door…later wishing he dint make such a bad impression, but there he was watching open mouthed, gawking at the figure whose one hand was playing with a chain and another caught a newspaper picked from the doorstep and said “Er…Hai…I’m Synthia…I moved into the neighborhood right yesterday, can I borrow the newspaper?”