Yearning

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The fireplace crackled to life, glowing a fiery orange and spreading much needed warmth in the living room. The chimney of her little cottage puffed out smoke that soon blended with the dark stillness outside. Esther donned her apron and got busy in the kitchen. She had done up the house with holly wreaths, bells and fairy lights; in a corner stood a beautifully decked Christmas tree.

Occasionally, she stole glances at the window. It was snowing heavily outside and the streets were empty. Had she just seen some one at the gate? She wasn't expecting any one but she couldn't stop herself from hoping. Her husband was long gone, leaving her to raise their only son who ended up featuring in the “Wanted” list of the state police. He spent his life moving in and out of their village, dodging the cops playing a never ending game of hide and seek.

Her thoughts lingered around her child, refusing to dissolve. Darling Danny. The one with blue eyes that easily melted mama’s heart. She felt a sudden yearning for him on that Christmas Day. There was no way she could reach him. “That could prove dangerous for both of us” he had said when they met a few months ago. Nevertheless she laid the table for two and made his favourite dessert.

The wind chimes sang into the night as she sat down to have dinner all by herself. She had been staring at the empty chair in despair when she heard a soft knock at the back door. “Merry Christmas mama!” he whispered and hugged her tight much to her joy. “You’re home at last, Danny!” She couldn't stop the tears as her fingers felt the warm wetness of a fresh bullet wound.

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Unsure

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Bhumika bit her lip and glanced at her watch as she walked back and forth on the platform. Suddenly there was a deafening hoot and before she could calm herself down, the Kerala Express to New Delhi chugged into the station and screeched to a halt. She looked out through the window at her parents after stowing her luggage. Her father seemed to know exactly how she felt. Anxious and unsure.

“Don’t worry, you will be fine. And we are just a call away” he tried to reassure her. She exhaled deeply in the hope of releasing some of her anxiety about what the future in an alien land had in store for her. She waved till she lost sight of them as the train sped away. She had been excited upon clearing the interview and gaining admission into one of the best colleges in the country but when it was time to leave the comforts of her home town and family, she wasn't sure she could cope.

She thought back to the day she had learned to cycle. Her father used to support her by holding on to the back of the seat while she tried to pedal. Initially she would keep turning back to look at him but soon she was sure of her father’s presence behind her. It had made her confident. Then one day, she had cycled quite a distance before she realised that her father had quietly let go. But he was there watching over her.

As the train stopped at the next station, she felt her muscles easing up. She felt the invisible presence of her parents, ready to hold her hand whenever she needed them. As always, it made her confident.

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Outdated

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“Mama, it’s so simple. Why do you create a fuss about nothing?” my daughter was exasperated. She left for work after her daily reminder “The green button to pick a call and the red one to disconnect.” I nodded, shut the door and looked around. Next to every electronic device gleamed a yellow “Post-it” with operating instructions.

I sighed, feeling confused and outdated in this huge city half way around the earth. It felt as if the whole world had moved on to climb the technological ladder leaving me behind. Everything was done by machines. The grandchildren played on the computer, least interested in going out in the open for a game of bat and ball. They entertained themselves conquering kingdoms, slaying demons and crushing candy. The books I had carried for them all the way from India lay untouched. They said they had a library in their laptop. I still haven’t believed it. 

A feeling of helplessness enveloped me. I wanted nothing to do with these new ways. I felt out of place, like an extinct reptile. But the words of my granddaughter came with a glimmer of hope.

“Tell me a story Nani.” she had said. I couldn't help smiling. People still enjoy stories! I sat her on my lap and told her stories from my life. She was fascinated by them, the tales of a granny dinosaur.



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Kindness

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My sister and I got busy in the kitchen. She read out the ingredients from mom’s recipe book and I arranged them on the counter. Both of us aren't too keen about cooking, but we were determined to bake cupcakes to make a birthday special and memorable.

As I mixed flour, eggs, chocolate, sugar and the remaining ingredients, my sissy whipped up butter, sugar and cream cheese. Together we poured the batter into moulds and licked the mixing bowl clean as they got baked. When the lovely aroma of cakes wafted from the oven, we couldn't stop ourselves from believing that we had put together perfectly the ingredients to happiness.

With the frosting, they looked beautiful and delicious. We carried the tray of cupcakes to the flat where Mr. Sen lived. He opened the door to our collective “Happy Birthday”. He was touched by our gesture and had tears in his eyes when he said “I just received a virtual cake on Facebook from my daughter in the States. I don’t think I’ll ever find out how it tastes though.”

I looked at my sister. She nodded and I knew she had read my thoughts. “In fact Mr. Sen, we baked these on the request of your daughter.”

“She wanted it to be a surprise you see!” I stammered. We climbed the stairs back to our flat in silence, overwhelmed by a deep sense of satisfaction gifted by a simple act of kindness.

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Grief

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The morning sun was hidden behind grey clouds and the wind brought with it soft sprays of the morning rain. It was getting cold and the inmates of We Care hospital slowly made their way inside after having spent an hour in the beautiful garden with Janet, the social worker. She came thrice a week to hold hands, listen and speak to them. They could say anything to her. She would listen patiently without judgement, sometimes responding with a few lines of poetry or a mere nod of the head or engaging them in a fun activity. That seemed to be enough for the patients who had been admitted there to recover from the shock of bereavement.

Once the group session was over she had a few individual sessions. Janet walked to the cafeteria where Maya waited every day to share her pain, the tragic demise of her husband. As she listened, offering her thoughts occasionally, Janet was taken back to the days when she herself had been stricken with grief when her son, barely five, had left her to be lonely forever. They had been playing at the beach when he spotted a shiny object in the water and ran after it, never to return again.

Janet was devastated and had withdrawn into a shell. She was an emotional wreck for several months until her friend, a psychologist at We Care had suggested she come in regularly to meet others who were also battling the pain of loss of a loved one. She had come a long way from there, learning to cope and simultaneously lending a hand to other grievers. She was glad she had someone to steer her through troubled times and so was determined to do the same to others too.

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Fear

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Thirty two pairs of curious eyes followed me as I walked across the classroom on my first day of school. It was the middle of the term and I was taking the place of a teacher who had resigned. “Good morning, how are you feeling today?” I asked. The children seemed to be puzzled. Nevertheless, they answered “Fine ma’am, thank you.” I could see that they were exchanging glances, their eyes communicating in a language I could not fathom. Were they up to some trouble?

Since it was the first day I wasn't too keen on beginning a lesson. First, I needed to get to know them and make them feel comfortable. So with a smile, I started asking their names and things they liked. The tension in the air was palpable. Some of the kids didn't even look at me in the eye. Did they have trouble accepting me as their new teacher?

Things continued this way for a few more days though we were well into our Math lessons. I didn't give up hope. Then one day the unexpected happened.

“Akanksha!” I called out to a girl in my class.

“Yyyes ma’am…..ma’am I am sorry. Please ma’am. I will learn up.” She was trembling, her words reflecting some hidden fear.

“But what are you sorry for?” It was my turn to be confused.

She looked down without answering when a boy spoke up “Please don’t use that stick ma’am.”

I followed the boy’s gaze and saw a cane on the windowsill. I picked it up and threw it in the bin. “We don’t need this.” I smiled.

Suddenly the clouds of fear parted and I saw sunny faces. I was sure that the rest of the term would be full of fun and learning.





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Content

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Her wardrobe was an explosion of colour and glitz. Radhika was spoilt for choice when it came to clothes, accessories and almost everything else she wanted. She was the pampered wife of a millionaire who went on endless business trips around the globe in search of better deals and more money. They owned a lot wealth and lead a lavish life; an outsider could never find any flaws in their life.

Yet, as she stood in front of her cupboard trying to decide what to wear to the party that night, she felt a strange sense of emptiness. She couldn't fathom what it was. Maybe it was time to shop for new clothes and bags. Maybe the diamonds had been worn too many times and it was time for a new set. Or could it be because it had been long since a holiday in an exotic resort in a faraway land?

What was it she lacked? Why did she feel empty? Her thoughts were disturbed as she looked down from her window at the adjoining slum. Where did these people come from? She watched with shock and disgust as two urchins sifted through the garbage, picking bottles and jars. When their sacks fattened up with objects of glass and plastic, they exchanged them with a man, for some money.

The children dashed to the nearby shop that sold fly infested samosas, pastries and snacks dripping with oil. Radhika watched them munch hungrily on the samosas. Their faces burst into smiles as they wiped their oily hands on their knickers and prepared for a nap near the stinking pile of garbage. She then realised what was wrong. She had never once felt content.





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Emoting A to Z

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“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart”
               - Hellen Keller

Emotions and feelings are better experienced than explained. I have always found it intriguing, the myriad of emotions we humans are capable of going through. They add a lot of colour and layers to an individual. Though most of us are capable of experiencing various emotions like happiness, love, sadness, anger fear and so on, the triggering factors, their depth, our understanding of them etc greatly vary. Their expression too differs from person to person.

I am an emotional person and I can almost feel myself plunging into them at all times. At the same time, I like to believe that I am very much in touch with my emotions or in other words I can name the feeling I'm going through at a particular instance most of the time (of course there are times when I have mixed feelings or unidentifiable feelings). I think that being true to one's emotions makes me authentic and real. It also helps me express them better.in a manner that benefits the situation.

What remains now is the Theme Reveal for the A to Z blogging Challenge in April. Let me put it simply, it is Emoting A to Z. Since I am a novice blogger and this is my first A to Z challenge, I wanted to select a genre of writing outside my comfort zone. I have penned a lot of poetry and reflections about social issues but have very few stories to my credit. I want to change that by the end of this challenge. In April, you will find short fiction (within 300 words) dealing with emotions, one for each letter of the English Alphabet.

I hope you join me in this emotional wagon from A to Z. You can be assured, these words are straight from my heart and head. I would love to pull in at your station. Do drop in your comments and links to your blogs. We are together in this!!

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