Straight from the Heart

The truant cloud broke away from a large lump of fluffy mass that seemed to have got stuck in the centre of the large cavernous hollow of a ravine. Probably it was tired of nestling amongst the green thicket of trees and longed for some human company. As it floated leisurely upwards, I noticed it changing its colour-from a dull grey to shades of white that grew more brilliant as it came out of the shadows inside the ravine into the pale sunlight. “Welcome to Meghalaya-our humble abode”, said the cloud as it came to rest within inches of my nose. Christopher Marlow’s poem seemed to keep coming back again and again as we left the crowded city centre of Shillong and started our journey towards Cherrapunji-the place that had the reputation, till recently, of being the world’s wettest place! Shillong, like any other hill station has become congested over the years. So much so that the main centre of the town (Police bazaar area) looks like one big mass of concrete in all sorts of shapes ...

Click clack, clickety-clack listen to the song of my wheels! Where shall I take you for a holiday, pray tell me please? Take me far away where the concrete city can no longer be seen. Past the miles of open fields, decked in a carpet of green. Take me past that unknown village that has huts thatched or tiled. Where the little boy stares in wonder at the train speeding by! Shake-Shake, rock-roll, rest awhile as we speed you away. Past the distant hills and the tall palms that stand by the way! Take me over the mountain brook that winds its way through the hills. Shining like a silver streak when the world with sunlight fills! Take me past the wooded stretch with trees that aim for the sky. Tooting with sheer joy and excitement as we pass them by. Faster and faster, speeding past, a world far from home! To days full of happiness, good food, relaxation- and so much more!

Many years ago, when I was still a child, my father had read me a story from one of my story books. The story was as follows : Once there was a fight between the sun and the clouds. Both were out to prove that the other one was inferior to it. The sun boasted about its power and glory while the clouds spoke about how it was the preserver of life on earth and how it could provided much relief to everyone when the sun was at its tyrannical best. To sort out the matter amongst themselves, they decided to test their skills and see whether one of them could out-do the other. As they looked down from the heavens, they saw a frail old man walking down a road. The man wore a coat that covered him all the way down to his knee. The sun and the cloud decided to target this particular man. Whoever could force the man to remove his coat would be declared as the more superior of the two. Both Sun and the Clouds agreed. It was decided that the clouds will try its luck first. It suddenly turned al...

The setting was absolutely perfect! Just like Raj Kapoor and Nargis when they had met, under a single umbrella,on a rainy night. The sky was streaked with flashes of lightning. The rain that feel in torrents Were blown waywardly by gusts of wind!   Under a tarpaulin shed we stood, Battered by winds and the wayward rain. Our clothes wet in patches And rain water dripping down our faces. Suddenly a corner of the tarpaulin gave way, Forcing us to come closer! It was a moment worth waiting for!   But wait!!! Something is wrong it seems. The script unfolded in sharp contrast to my dreams! The lady with whom I was sharing the shelter, Was old enough to be my grandmother’s elder sister!

He measured barely upto my knee, in height. Standing at the Zebra crossing, striped black and white! Waiting patiently, though impatience was written all over his face. Waiting for a gap in the evening traffic, so that he could race! I was waiting too, so looked at him and smiled. A boy he was, merely eight or ten years old. Ragged clothes, matted locks, he sure was a boy from the slum. His smile though was radiant, and his face, certainly not glum! Bright were his eyes, sparkling like the stars. He hummed a tune, poverty, for him, was not a bar! Held tightly were plastic packets, in his little clenched fingers. Daily ration for his family, some potatoes, rice, salt and ginger. So it was the prospect of food that made him happy, I thought. A lone meal at the end of the day, served piping hot! “Where do you stay”, I asked him, just to make some talk. “On the pavement across the road, he said as we began to walk. “I live with my mother, and my little sister, on a cot...

He slowly retracted his footsteps from the place, after making sure that the last person had left fully satisfied and happy. With a smile on his lips right from the time the first guest came in, he had gone about the task of receiving the guests, imploring them to enjoy their meal and finally bidding them goodbye after checking whether they had indeed enjoyed themselves and have had their full. Not that everyone was happy. A few special ones made it a point to find faults and bring them to his notice. Whatever they said, he bore it all, with a smile, and a promise to see if it can be corrected. After all when the heart is heavy with grief, probably there is no room left for the heart to feel more pain. Beyond the point of saturation, its like a feeling of numbness and any further hurt doesn’t cause much reaction. The footsteps were laboured, each one slower than the one before. Fatigue was beginning to overcome him, the toil of the whole day making his body ache and his old bones scr...

It was an intoxication of a different kind! Am not sure whether it can be called anything other than intoxication. Just like any other intoxicating substance this also began to with a slow sort of feel good factor. In the beginning, it was just that….a sort of feel good kind of state where the mind and body begins to relax and get ready for going to the next stage. Then comes the feeling when one realises that one is losing control over the mind and body. The drug begins to dictate terms, the mind loses control and the motor neurons that are responsible for carrying instructions to different parts of the body begin falling asleep one by one. Starved of any specific direction from the central command, the parts of the body start to behave on their own free will-the foot starts to tap, a finger swings in a certain rhythmic motion, the head begins to nod. Finally, like one huge sweeping gesture, the drug takes full control and makes the body enters into a trance like state! This is preci...