REMINISCENCE

It was one of those days when I had indulged in an argument with my mother.Quite often,we had arguments and conflicts between us.Our opinions differed.Our views differed.Sometimes,I felt that we had nothing in common.

The argument finally ended with me walking out of the house.I needed some time alone.I needed solitude.I went on the terrace.

I stared at the star-studded night sky.It was beautiful.The moon shone down at me.I was bathed in moonlight.

I saw a star moving slowly in the sky.A shooting star!I was fascinated.It is said that if you look at a shooting star and wish something,then your wish comes true.I closed my eyes.

I was halfway through my wish when I heard a low rumble in the sky above.I opened my eyes only to realize that I was staring at no shooting star.It was just an airplane.I smiled at my naivety.

Suddenly,a memory from the past gripped me.I was just around four or five years old.I was sitting in my mother's lap in the balcony and staring at the night sky.My mother was singing a lullaby for me.Suddenly,I pointed to a point sized source of light flickering in the dark sky above.It was moving slowly.

I asked,"what's that,mother?"My mother replied,"it's an airplane,dear."

I wondered which pilot would be so dumb that he was flying an airplane in the night sky.He wouldn't even be able to see what was around him.But,I kept my thoughts to myself.

Now I was standing on the terrace,alone.My mother had strived so hard to shape my life.She had made great efforts for me,night and day.How could I fight with her?Maybe it was my mistake,after all.Even if it wasn't,what was wrong in apologizing?I ran down from the terrace to my house to say sorry to my mother...

BRUTALITY

"No!"the poor woman whispered,sobbing.

But,he was too drunk to listen."Please leave my mother alone,"said the eight year old girl."Please,father...".But,he didn't give a damn.

He raised his hand and slapped his wife.He thrashed her brutally.The little girl witnessed all this with terror in her eyes.She was horrified.

"You!"the man said,pointing at his daughter,"mustn't talk in the middle.Bad manners."His breath clearly smelled of alcohol.

The poor girl started sobbing.She had been witnessing this for quite a long time now.But,it was more than she could handle.

"Please,stop.For the sake of your little daughter.Please,"the lady pleaded.

Her drunk husband looked at her menacingly.He simply thrashed her again.Harder,this time.The helpless woman just cried for mercy.But,he didn't hear her cries.Nor did he hear the sobs of his eight year old daughter.

Without any reason,he kept slapping his wife.He hit her with a stick.Not once,but many times.

Finally when he had had enough,he threw the stick aside.Without a word,he went to sleep;leaving his wife and his daughter sitting on the floor,sobbing.

The eight year old girl had always wondered when all this would stop.Every night it was the same story.Her father would come home drunk.Then he would mercilessly thrash her mother.

Her mother had never stood up against him.Never had she raised her voice.She would always silently bear all the pain and suffering with the hope that it would never happen again.But,she was always proved wrong the next day.

If anybody happened to ask her mother how she had got those wounds and bruises,she would always make up a story.

Would all this ever stop? Would her father ever understand? Would her mother ever oppose the cruelty that she faced everyday?

Even the thought of these things brought tears in her eyes.But she would always blink them away before anybody could see them...

CARTE BLANCHE

"But,why?"my friend demanded.

"Because we say so",his mother replied firmly.

Well,I was in my friend's house and he was arguing with his mother about what he should choose as his career in the future.He wanted to become an advocate and so,he wanted to join Arts.But,unfortunately his mother wanted him to join Science.

Inevitably,I was dragged in their argument."You tell me,son", his mother looked at me,"what should a person scoring 95% choose to become in future?"

I hesitated."Uh...uh", I managed to stammer.Apparently,I was sandwiched between a friend,who was looking at me expectantly and his mother,who was kind of...glaring at me.

My friend sensed my hesitation."Why are you asking him?It's my life.My career.I should decide what to do and what not to",he told his mother.

"Is this the way you talk to your mother?"she asked him.I looked at them stupidly.

"You aren't big enough to make decisions about your future.It's we who decide about it", his mother told him.

As if the long arguments in my house weren't enough,here I was stuck in another one!

My friend's mother stomped towards the kitchen.He looked at me,helpless and frustrated.I tried to give him a consoling smile (although it didn't quite console him).I felt sorry for him.

I feel that a student should do something that he is actually interested in.That is what he should choose as his career in the future.Unless and until,one is satisfied with his job,he can never do it properly.So,even if a student scoring 95% wishes to join Arts or Commerce,he should be free to do so.His parents shouldn't obstruct him.That's my take on this topic.What's yours?

ABYSS

Garbage,filth,dirt,
That's all we find on our beautiful Earth,
There are no plants,no trees,
They are simply cut with ease.

If there is something,

Then there are crimes,

Crimes much sinister than in olden times,

There are bribes,rapes and murders,

Crimes that make people shudder.

If there is something,

Then there are promises,

Promises which are never fulfilled,

Innocent people are being killed,

Entire humanity is being drilled.

If there is something,

Then there are protests,

Protests by people who want a change,

Innocent people are being maimed,

Nobody knows whom to blame.

Who's going to stop this bloody game?

HOW LONG?

Although I love to read newspapers,I rarely buy them.Today was one of those rare days when I had bought one.I opened it and settled down on the couch to read it.

The cover story was about the rape of a five-year old girl in the capital of the nation.A twenty-two year old pervert had brutally assaulted the minor.She was battling for her life in a hospital.The rapist,who was on the run,was finally caught.All the people in the country were protesting...

I grimaced and turned a few pages of the newspaper to see what was happening elsewhere in the country.It was the same story everywhere.Another devil had raped a four-year old and had left her to die.A father-in-law had molested his daughter-in-law.A thirteen-year old wanted to die because she had been raped and her case was not being registered by the police.Rapists and perverts were roaming freely in the country.

For how long are such sinister crimes going to take place? For how long will the devils roam on the loose? For how long will such misogyny and paedophilia continue in our country? For how long will people tolerate such nuisance? For how long will promises about new laws be made? Finally,for how long will the voices of the people be muffled?

UNANSWERED QUESTIONS

"Why is she so poor,mother?" the six year-old asked his mother.The mother wasn't sure about how to answer him."Why does she wear old and torn rags?" he pressed.

The boy was talking about the maid servant of the house.Right from when he was small,he had seen her doing the chores of the house.She swept and mopped the floor,washed the utensils,washed the clothes among many other things.

She lived in a slum that was just a stone's throw from their house.He had never seen her relax even for a moment.After she finished the work of their house,she went to rest of the houses in the neighbourhood.

"Why,mother?" he asked again.Unsure of what to say,his mother decided to change the topic.

"Didn't you want to eat those sweets?Well..." she paused and continued,"you can have them".The boy jumped with joy and ran towards the kitchen.

For the time being,he had forgotten about everything.But,somewhere deep down in his heart the questions were still there.Questions whose answers he still did not have...

RECONCILIATION

She says no,
I say yes,
She says go,
I am left in a mess.

She says die,

I ask why,

She doesn't reply,

I silently cry.

She doesn't look,

But,I still stare,

She pretends to be lost in a book,

But,I still care.

I say sorry,

I apologize,

She doesn't worry,

Doesn't realize.

Right now I'm sitting,

Thinking about her,

Doesn't she see,

That my life's completely blur?

She is so near,

But still she's so far,

She is right here,

As beautiful as a star.

She's in front of me,

Or is it my hallucination?

She's talking to me,

Or is it my imagination?

NO PLACE LIKE HOME

A bright Saturday morning.I woke up at 6.15 am.

"Crap",I said.I had a quiz at 9.00 am.The quiz venue was around 35 km away from my house.I knew that I was going to be late.

My partner was supposed to meet me at the bus-stand at 7.30 am.I  reached the bus-stand at 7.40 am.For the first time in his life,my partner had come on time whereas I hadn't.

He was waiting for me at the bus-stand with the tickets.We got on the bus.In the bus,he plugged in his earphones and started listening to music.I've hated buses since I was a kid.I don't exactly know why!

We reached the venue in time.Then all the teams that were present over there enjoyed four hours of pure quizzing.In the end,we emerged as the winners.

I felt very happy.We got good prizes.The quiz got over at 1.30 pm.
My partner's father had come to pick us up.

My happiness was short-lived.My partner's father had brought his car.So,I was to go home in a car.

I feel very uncomfortable in claustrophobic places like cars,buses etc.To add to that,my partner's father started playing old Marathi music.

The singer started talking about Saint Tulsidas,Saint Gyaneshwar etc.My head started reeling.I felt like spewing.I hate listening to Marathi music.It sucks.I just wanted to get out of this claustrophobic car ASAP.

We reached a bridge.Below us was a wide river.A barge was moving slowly across its waters.An aeroplane could be seen flying in the deep blue sky above.There was a railway bridge on the other side of the river.A train could be seen moving rapidly.There were many cars and buses on the road that we were travelling.Almost all the modes of transport could be seen from that place...

Finally,when we were about to reach home,my partner changed the music."Won't you c'mon and c'mon and raise your glass..." greeted my ears.

Finally,they dropped me home.I felt very happy.There's no place like home...

AN INFATUATION

'Possessive pig!'

How could she have called him that?A mutual friend of theirs had told him that she had indeed said that to him.Initially,he couldn't believe it.But,later it dawned upon him that it was true.

Even now,sitting on a bench in the park,he was ripping the petals of a rose one by one and muttering,"Yes,she will;no,she won't..."alternately as each petal glided softly to the ground.He was just trying to decide whether she would talk to him ever again.

He just kept reminiscing about those wonderful days.Those days which were long gone and were just memories now.Memories that still haunted him.Night and day.

Couldn't she just forgive him for his misdemeanour?Had he not apologized to her around a million times already?Well,he had.She'd said that it was okay.But was it really okay?Not in the slightest.Nothing was okay between them.Nothing at all.

Well,it had happened somewhat like this:
Six months ago:They barely knew each other.
Five months ago:They became acquaintances.
Four months ago:They became friends.
Three months ago:They became really good friends.
Two months ago:She realized that he had been pushing this a bit too far.He had crossed the limit.So,she gave him the silent treatment.She stopped talking to him.
One month ago:She started pretending that she barely knew him.

History had repeated itself.He became depressed and from then on,he is just found sitting on a bench in the park,ripping roses apart and muttering,"Yes,she will;no,she won't..."to himself.

MOVING ON

She calls you possessive,
She thinks you're obsessive,
You apologize for your mistakes,
But no!

She says you're pretending,

The story's unending,

You think she's heartless,

But no!

Both of you part ways,

Forgotten are the old days,

Neither looks into the other's face.

There's no conversation,

No chats like before,

You're heart's uprooted from its core.

But you have to move on,

You need to move on...

SUFFERINGS

sHE CRIES,

She has tears in her eyes,

She fights,

For her rights.

But all she can feel is agony,

There's pain,

All her efforts have gone in vain,

She feels she is going insane.

She wants peace,

She wants justice,

But she feels,

She's getting nowhere with this.

Right now she's lying face down in bed,

Irrelevant thoughts enter her head,

She's feeling sad,

She's thinking about those moments that she will forever dread.

Nothing seems right,

Justice is nowhere in sight,

She just thinks she might,

Give it a fight.

Although right now there's no sign;

But,everything will be fine,

She knows,

Eventually everything does get fine.