The alarm on her face was evident. She was standing in her daughter’s room. The mess did not bother her. Toys were strewn all around the floor. The bed was not done and the blankets lay on the floor. That was how the room always was, and so, she was not bothered. As she stood in the doorway, she was not even looking inside the room; she was looking at the frame of the door itself. The metal frame fitted onto the wooden frame with tight bolts gleamed in the evening sun that shone from the gaps in the drapes of the window. The metal frame was empty – where there should have been a strong, barred door, she stood now while the door itself was swung open. The door was not supposed to be left unlocked. Her daughter had escaped the citadel that she’d built for her.
“Call the doctor! And look for Pinky!” She screamed as she swiveled out of the doorway, shaking herself out of the surprise.
The first thing she did was to run out the door and reach the garden. Pinky was not a normal girl. She never had been. When she would not walk or talk properly even when she was four years old, they’d finally started to worry. They showed her to child psychiatrists and were told a lot of medical terms and long words that were supposed to explain to them why life had chosen to play this ruthless game with them. Pinky was not a normal girl. Her mind had a disease. When she’d finally learnt to communicate, partially with gestures and partially with words, she would talk nonsense. She would never be able to stick to one topic for more than half a minute. Many times, half way through one sentence she’d start talking about something else. The last time she’d spoken, she had, to everyone’s surprise, spoken in rhymes. The rhyme made no sense to anybody but nobody really noticed that.
As she grew older, her reactions became weirder. She had started reacting to the most unexpected of situations. She would inexplicably throw a tantrum which would go on for hours. There were times when her mother would lose her patience and slap her. Pinky would start laughing in glee. Sometimes, Pinky would just sit on the stairs outside the quaint little bungalow, staring blankly at the neat garden in the front yard, and at the street beyond it. She would sniff the air and tears would roll down her eyes as if she had remembered a sad incident from her past.
It was when she turned six that they decided to build the metal door to her room. She had become too violent for her parents to handle. They employed a nanny from an organization that specialized in such cases. It broke their heart to cage their own flesh and blood like a wild animal. Love is sometimes, heavier than the heart or the mind can bear. They had no choice. Her mother still remembered that day when Pinky showed a side to herself that they had never seen before.
It was during spring last year. The morning was sunny and bright. Pinky was unusually quiet, and her mother did not know whether to be happy or alarmed at this. She decided to keep an eye on her anyway. When Pinky just sat in the living room without moving for hours, her mother decided to relax herself a bit and she went into the kitchen to fix herself a snack. That was when it happened. She heard a loud, blood curdling scream that came from the living room, followed by a loud bang. She rushed out to find the living room empty. It took a few seconds for her to notice the cracks on the wall around the living room door that led to the garden. When she did notice them, she realized where the bang came from and where her daughter was. She ran outside into the garden and froze as a chill ran down her spine. Pinky, with a crazed look in her eyes that shone like a wild beast running behind its quarry, was going through all the plants, screaming and wildly plucking each and every flower. She had managed to destroy almost half the garden and the ground lay strewn with petals as if they were drops of blood left as an evidence of a ruthless massacre. By the time her mother shook herself out of the shock, Pinky had destroyed all the flowers. Her mother rushed down the garden and it took all of her strength to pull the six year old, frail, dazed Pinky away from the plants. Her mother knew now that they needed help.
That was when the door was built. For a year, they had managed to keep something like that from happening again. They had put Pinky in a room that did not face the garden, because every time she saw the plants outside, she would start screaming. For a year, they had led a life that had finally come as close as it could to normalcy. Until this moment – Pinky had escaped her prison.
As her mother ran out into the garden, she hardened herself to witness the crazy, bone-chilling, screaming monster that her daughter must have turned into. What she saw, though, came as a surprise to her. Pinky was sitting next to a rose bush, quiet and calm as a lady. She was looking up at a rose, mumbling something to herself. Her mother cautiously inched towards her, to hear if she was speaking something that made sense. After the rhymes she’d heard her speak last time, she was almost afraid to find out what it was this time. She did not realize that the rose bush had started giving flowers already. Pinky was caressing the flower and stroking it ever so gently as if she was really attached to it. The more her gestures showed love, the more she cried.
As she came nearer, her mother heard what she was saying.
“I know it hurts. I know. It hurts so much.” Pinky kept repeating this until her mother came close. She then turned slowly to face her mother.
“I tried, mother. You should not have planted flowers. They are not good. They are the balance. Don’t you see? The fragrance, the beauty – it all comes at a price. Everything comes at a price, mother. Please don’t plant flowers.”
Before her mother could respond, her phone began ringing in her pocket.
“Hello, is this Sujata?” said the voice on the other end.
“Hello? Yes, speaking. May I know who this is? …
2.
‘I’m 25 years old! Why am I behaving like a teenager?’ He thought to himself. He could not believe the nervousness he was feeling. His stomach felt heavy, his breath felt cold and his palms were sweaty. He was fumbling even in his thoughts. He felt as if he was going for an examination. Well, not quite like that. Even with all this, he was feeling a rush of happiness that he had never felt before. As he finished combing his hair, he checked himself in the mirror for the umpteenth time. He was dressed as smartly as he could – but he had been careful enough to keep it casual, so as to let the enormous efforts he had taken to get ready, be subtle.
He was going to propose to her today. It was redundant, really. They had known each other for over eight years and had been a couple for almost five of those. Their love had blossomed at a very young age and unlike most of the stories that begin so early, had survived the test of time, hormones and irrationality. Their parents being good friends had only helped encourage their relationship. Now he had had a steady job for two years, he had a good amount of savings, she had finished her studies and had begun working at a reputed company – the time was ripe. They both knew it, but young love is driven more by emotions and gestures than with anything else. She was waiting for a romantic proposal and he had been planning, preparing, rehearsing for infinite number of times.
Today, finally, had the honour of being the day. He had called her for a casual walk in the park next to his apartment. This park had been a stage for the romantic play that had been their life for the last eight years. They had first met at the entrance of this park. He was 18, she was 16. It was so much like a cheesy, romantic flick that they both felt a punch of embarrassment when they thought back to the tactless, feebly covered, unpracticed flirting that had happened in that meeting between them. He had been smitten by her since that day but it took him all of the next three years to patiently pile up enough courage to actually voice his feelings to her. They would always meet at the park and then head to wherever they wanted. They had spent countless evenings there, flirting, fighting, crying, laughing and creating memories that they would cherish all their lives.
And so, it was there that he had decided to propose to her. It was a very ordinary, small park. To a passerby, it would even appear to be a little unkempt. For these two, however, the park was a little piece of heaven that had broken off from the skies and landed on the earth. It was quarter to six now and they had decided to meet at six. He rushed down the stairs – she did NOT like to wait.
As he reached the gate, he saw her come from the other side. As he watched her walk, smiling at him, he fell in love with her anew. He made up his mind – the first thing that he will say to her this evening, right in front of this gate, would be the proposal.
“Hey”, She greeted him with a smile. The smile washed away all the resolution in him. He smiled back, took her hand in his and they went into the park for a walk.
A half hour later, sitting on a park bench, they had evaluated, discussed, judged and dissected every possible topic that was of interest to them and he was still nervous. Love is heavier than a man’s courage, he thought. Her voice brought him out of his thoughts.
“Hey I saw a very nice movie the other day.” She was saying.
“Oh, what was it about?”
“It was about this man who pretends to be handicapped. He is being interrogated by the police for some crime or drug deal or something. Nobody can make out throughout the movie that he is actually not a handicap. They finally let him go.”
“Oh ya, I’ve seen that movie. I don’t remember the name – it’s ‘The Suspects’ or something.”
“I don’t know. I missed the beginning of the movie. You know, I really feel sometimes that we call ourselves social animals but we really are worse than savages. Take this story for example. The man pretends to be handicapped. Its so disgusting. I mean, animals may not have societies but they sure don’t have so much deceit and pretension in them.”
“Ya. I know. It really is so demeaning and insulting to someone who would actually have a handicap.”
“Worse than that, you know what? I wouldn’t trust a person has a handicap next time I see one. How sad is that? I have really seen some beggars on the street pretend to be blind just so that they could get more money out of sympathy. I feel so angry at them.”
“Not all blind beggars are pretending to be blind. Some of them actually are blind.”
“I know, but how can you make out which are truly blind and which aren’t? And why should you have to wonder that in the first place? I had seen this once – I was walking down the street and a few feet ahead, there was this blind beggar. He was one of those utterly disgusting, nagging sort of beggars who just would not let go of you. He kept following this poor lady who was walking with her 5-6 year old child. He followed her for a good 500 paces before she finally turned around and screamed at him. He made a face and left. The moment she turned to leave, this beggar turns towards her, lifts his glasses to reveal perfectly healthy eyes, gives her a distasteful look and spits behind her. Thankfully the lady did not notice this or else there would have been a ruckus. But tell me, how do people like him come to exist in this world? Have we turned it into such a pathetic dump?”
“See, as far as I am concerned, I don’t really see a point in referring to the world as so small and controllable an object that our activities would make any difference to it. So when you ask me if we have turned it into a pathetic dump, I don’t know who the ‘we’ are and I don’t know how the world can be so insignificantly submissive as a dump. It’s a big wild world out there – these wild animals that you refer to as different from us, are also a part of the same world. It’s too big, its too random, and it is filled with too many people who feel they own it for me to worry about it as a whole. I’d rather just think about me, you, this park and us right now. My life, my future, my love – that’s all I’ll ever bother my mind with. Movies are for entertainment.”
She smiled at him. No matter what she would worry about, he had a knack of bringing it to a comforting solution without fail. It was getting dark. The sun had almost finished its duty for the day and was stretching and yawning in the horizon. They got up, hand in hand, and began walking towards the gate. His heart, of course, began pumping again. He could not shake the feeling that he was forgetting something, that he was not prepared enough for this. Perhaps it was just how he had been all his life – even during exams, he would check and double check his pencils, pens and other stationery limitlessly until the paper was in his hand.
They stepped out of the gate. The time had come.
“Oh look! A blind beggar.” She pointed at a man by the edge of the road with a stick in his hand.
I have to do it. This is the right time. Do not fumble.
“See? Now I don’t know whether he’s blind or he’s just pretending. I bet he’s pretending. Just look at him. He’s walking so confidently. He really should do a better job at acting to be blind.”
Just say it. Just hold her hand, look into her eyes, say it and… oh no!
“Oh, great. He’s going to cross the road now. My dear, if you were really blind, you would ask for help. At least do your homework if you want your farce to work.”
The ring! I never got a ring! What kind of an idiot proposes without a ring? What do I do now?
“What are you thinking about? You look nervous!”
“Just wait here. I’ll be right back ok?”
He left her, confused, as he dashed back into the park. No ring! What was he thinking? He kept pacing up and down in the park, willing his mind to stop panicking and start thinking – and then it struck him. Of course! A rose! Flowers are always romantic. He can propose with a rose. He looked around for a rose bush – he knew there was one around here. He spotted one with a few roses on it. People weren’t supposed to pluck roses in the park, but desperate times call for desperate actions. He stealthily approached the bush, selected the biggest rose, and quickly plucked it.
The moment the rose disconnected from its stem, he was shaken by a loud, terrifying screech that came from the road. It sounded like tires screaming against the tar. The screech went on for a few, painful, long, unending seconds until they were concluded by a resounding crash. The mere magnitude of the sound was enough to throw people into a flurry of panic. The only thing he could think of was her. She was standing out there. His mind went into overdrive. He ran out of the park as fast as he could and took in the scene that had unfolded outside the gate.
The love of his life lay on the side of the road, face down. Next to her, lay a man who he mildly recollected to have seen somewhere before. The road was scarred with dark, fat black tracks of burnt rubber that led to an SUV on the other side of the road. The car had rammed into a lamp post that now lay at a grotesque angle to the ground. The front two wheels of the car were in the air and the hood had popped open. Fumes came out of the engine and its horn kept blaring incessantly.
Within a fraction of a second, he was next to her, his hands quivering as he lifted her. As he turned her face towards him, his heart felt a rush of powerful calm that he had never felt before – she was alive, conscious, and almost completely unharmed save a few scratches.
“Baby! Are you ok?”
“Its alright. I am fine. I.. I don’t know.. I don’t know what came over me! I am glad I did it, but I don’t know how I did it. I was just standing here when I saw this car come. I wasn’t even looking at the blind man! Somehow I just knew I had to save him. I just… knew! I don’t even remember what I did but the next thing I know, I was lying here, the man was safe and there was this loud crash!”
People had gathered around them and had helped the blind man up. With tears streaming down his eyes all he could do was keep asking for the person who saved his life.
“I’m going to go see if the people in the car are alright, ok baby? You just stay here. You were really brave. I am so proud of you!”
He left her with a lady from his building who had come rushing there on hearing the crash and he ran towards the car. He didn’t even realize that he was still holding the rose. In a single moment, he had seen his whole life without her. He was just glad now that the moment was over and fate had given him back what it had taken away in that one moment.
3.
As he waited for the traffic light to turn green, Kapil glanced over at his friend sitting in the passenger seat. It had been so long and still he found it hard to comprehend how much his friend had changed. A few years ago, this man would have been talking constantly, without pausing even for breaths. His laughter was famous all over the college when they were studying together. People used to joke about it saying they should make Ravi laugh at the end of every lecture instead of ringing the bell. Now he just sat there, fiddling with his ring. Kapil felt irritated at these demure, quiet, self indulging habits that Ravi kept developing.
“Come on man, it is going to be good. Don’t sit there as if we’re going to a funeral.”
“I’m sorry. I was just lost in some thoughts.”
Kapil did not bother to ask what those thoughts were. He already knew the answer. Since the last nine years, Ravi had had thoughts of only one subject – his family. Ever since he had gotten married, his life had taken a turn for the worse. Love is sometimes, heavier than happiness can support.
“Oh just stop thinking about everything else other than the party. Its not every day that you get to attend a party at the Taj, after all. Come on, just forget your thoughts for a while. It’ll do you good.”
“You’re right. I should stop thinking about it, but I can’t. Every few months, she does something that surprises me, man. I am sick of these surprises. Why couldn’t I just have a normal life?”
Kapil stepped on the pedal when the signal finally relented. He glanced at his watch. They were late. He did not want to look bad at this party tonight.
“Look. I won’t say I understand how hard it is. It must surely be very difficult to live with her, to love her. But you don’t have a choice. She’s family. You have to deal with what you have and make the best of it.”
“It’s easy for you to say that. I just want to know why fate sprung this on me.”
“Oh, to hell with fate. If you keep waiting for justice because Fate is going to make it all ok, I think you are in for a big disappointment.”
“You really think God put us all here without a reason, Kapil?”
He was getting tired of this now. He had tried to be understanding, tolerant, and supportive. Ravi had a problem, his family was in a crisis but that did not mean that every moment that he spent with his friends should be spent in moping around about it all the time. He decided to change the subject and as if on cue, he saw a shapely, young woman standing outside the gate of the park on their right.
“I think God put her outside that gate for a reason, man! Just so we could get a look at her!”
Kapil shamelessly ogled at the pretty girl as his car approached. Ravi was not only not interested, he was also disgusted at this foolish, adolescent habit that had stuck with his friend beyond his adolescence. Without even looking in the direction where Kapil was pointing, Ravi looked ahead. And froze.
A man had walked right into the way of their car, and Kapil was not even looking at the road. For a split second, Ravi did not understand what to do. He realized he must shout, he must warn, he must move but he felt he could not recollect how to do any of those. He finally broke free of the shock and screamed, “Kapil! Watch OUT!”
Kapil turned his face to the road, and in panic, slammed hard on the brakes. As the car skidded off the road, Ravi tried to see if they killed the man. Suddenly, the whole world went into slow motion. Ravi could hear himself breathe, in and out, in and out. His breath was not only slow, it was heavy. He realized that they had already crashed into a pole on the side of the road. He felt a warm touch on his face. As he tried to crane his neck to see who it was, he realized he was stuck between the dashboard and the seat in a manner which did not allow any motion. He did not, however have to wait long to find out – it was a trickle of blood that came from under his hair.
His left hand was free and with it, he tried to feel the driver’s seat. He felt about and found a hand. He tried to reach the wrist, and found the one thing that he wished hardest for – a pulse. It was weak, but Kapil was not dead.
It was only then that Ravi realized someone was banging on the windshield. He tried to focus his mind into looking straight ahead. When he did manage, he realized he might not be thinking straight anymore – he saw a young man trying to break the windshield using a freshly bloomed, bright, red rose. Before he could think anymore, he passed out.
“I know it hurts. I know. It hurts so much.” He heard his daughter talking to him.
He thought he was at home. He wanted to see his daughter. He felt groggy, unsteady. Then he slowly regained his consciousness fully. He remembered – he was in an accident.
He felt a breeze on his cheek. The door on his side had been opened. A guy had taken his cellphone and had contacted someone – probably the last number dialed.
“Hello, is this Sujata?”
“Hello? Yes, speaking. May I know who this is…”
Ravi could not concentrate on the conversation anymore. He realized that his wife had been notified. He wondered why he kept seeing a rose everytime he focused his eyes – he could see one lying on the road right now. The rose made him think of what he had been thinking of before Kapil tried to woo his thoughts away from his daughter: the first time his daughter had managed to communicate with him in complete sentences. Well, it had been more than sentences. His daughter had, in fact, talked in a rhyme. The face of his daughter had been imprinted on Ravi’s memory – she looked as if she was in a trance and someone else was speaking through her:
“A good deed springs from every flower pluck,
For every bloom, ill fate in the world has struck!”
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