The Beautiful Game

The playground near its corners was populated with numerous small groups of friends sitting and lazing around. Meanwhile, the 14 of us covered the majority of the pitch as we started with our routine daily match of football in the afternoon. Some had bunked classes to be there on time for the match. But it was worth it. The weather was outstanding, just ideal for a football match, cloudy yet breezy. There was no hint of sun. The whole look of the day was pretty grayish, almost monochromatic. The match hence was being played with higher spirits and zeal, higher energies. On a day like that, the stamina’s increased, everyone felt like running an extra yard, dribbling the ball through the midfield like a Brazilian, it was after all ‘the beautiful game’. Our college bags were kept together forming heaps to form the poles of goals. I used to be a player predominantly on the right wing. Hence I was closer to the students sitting in chunks of 4-5 near the boundaries and corners of the playground. Time and again it would so happen that the ball would roll out of play and hit one of them. I would go to them and ask for the ball, even say sorry if it had hit a girl. But then this time even though the ball did not roll out, I noticed a group of 3 students sitting quite close to the periphery of our playing area. No wonder why I noticed them. Gauri was there. I just knew her by her name and face. She was a year junior to me, in a different course, so there was no natural way of knowing each other. I was just so madly in love with her that I had to ask a common friend to introduce me to her. She also knew me by face and name, quite lame! We used to say ‘hi’ to each other whenever we crossed paths, but that was it. I grew weak in my knees whenever I used to see her. Now this was my chance. I was now extremely eager to impress her. So I went up to her and said ‘hi’. She replied back and said ‘hi’ too. What this did was that my presence was now felt. Now I would play skillfully and try and be brilliant, and hope gauri watches it. I did just that. I demanded the ball every time my team was attacking. I gave artistic first touches, carried the ball solo through, into the penalty box quite a few times. I absolutely did not realize that it had been raining for the past few minutes now. When I did, I immediately turned to check if gauri was still around. She wasn’t certainly sitting anymore. I scanned through the playground like a hawk, saw various couples standing under trees, ‘enjoying’ the young rain. I had lost track of the ball, my eyes wandered, in pain, just hoping to catch a glimpse of gauri somewhere. I think she saw me before I saw her, because what she did next was so out of the book for her. I noticed she was under the science block roof, but then she came out in the rain, closed her eyes, and let her arms wide open, embracing the rain. I wished if I could zoom into her face, look at the water droplets bouncing off her face, and some rolling through. She just looked immaculately beautiful. I’m not sure about this part, but I think I saw her smile and look at me. I just knew I had to propose to her, there can be no two ways about it.
I turned back and saw that all my football mates were gone. By now another friend of hers had joined gauri in the rain. I picked up my wet bag and went to my classroom. I didn’t feel like going back home, and I felt like coming to college again the next day as soon as possible. With mixed ideas, I came out of my class and started for my home. I met gauri again downstairs, chatting with her friends, as the rain had ended up into only a minor drizzle by now. She saw me coming downstairs and then towards her. I smiled and said ‘bye’, she smiled back and said ‘bye’ too.

The Adult film

Jatin, my younger brother, was just younger due to his chronological age. he had matured at 'all' levels more than me much before he saw his teens, and i was almost finishing my teens by then. i'm not sure of the reason how this happened, may be because our younger lot are exposed to television and internet a lot earlier than we were. add to that the intelligence jatin was gifted with, he learnt things faster than kids at his age would. hence his eagerness to know more was inevitable, and invariably it was not possible to stop him from knowing things that were necessarily adult.
i think what made the difference in his case was that he was so keen on growing up, and being the so called 'mature individual', that he couldn't just help killing the kid in him. i would take opinions from him regarding my relationships, dad would ask him on the possible solutions if there was a problem at his work place, mom would share her kitty party conflicts with him. what resulted was a jatin, with more than enough knowledge at his age, and hence an over confident 'under-aged adult'. he would needlessly comment on sachin's dismissal, as if he was a connoisseur of cricket, he would not see commercial films like 'ddlj' and 'kkhh' and rather watch something like a 'fire' or 'satya', almost deliberately trying to show off his taste of things. all this and much more irritated me.i don't know whether i was jealous, or pissed, but i was starting to hate him everyday. the problem i thought was the fact that he himself understood his gift. i feel more often than not, if someone has a special talent, the realization of that quality tends to make the person snobbish and uselessly arrogant. jatin knew a lot of things, true, period. but he was still 12, there were things even if he knew, he couldn't possibly have understood. then why the hell were we treating him like that, weren't we responsible for his wrong grooming?
even i was just 18, i could not have answered all the questions i had. i had to come up with my own solutions. i decided to prove to my parents, by hook or by crook, that jatin was growing up the wrong way. i wanted to prove them that he is not using his gift and channelizing it in the correct path, therefore resulting into a kid who's turned into a brat. atleast this would stop all the pampering he used to get at home.
for days i tried finding flaws in him, trying to peep into his classroom, his bedroom, and when he is all alone using the computer or watching television. i tried meeting his friends too, apprehending that they might tell me if jatin had been drinking alcohol or may be even taking drugs, through friends from senior classes. but nothing of that sort popped out.
after almost a month of rigorous spying and sleuthing on jatin, i almost lost hope. i was slowly but surely coming to the conclusion that he's truly gifted and that he deserves all the attention and accolade. after a point of time, i was so convinced, that i had started talking about him amidst my classmates, praising jatin for his amazing intellectuality at 12. all my friends wanted to meet him. after all he was in the same school. it wasn't very tough to bring him to my classroom during the lunch break and introduce him to my friends. i decided to bring him the next day. as i went back home, with excitement, and keenness to tell jatin that i would take him to my class tomorrow, i saw him standing next to my mother outside our gate. even from a distance i could make out that my mother was waiting for me, and due to some reason extremely anguished. as i went closer, something in her hand became visible. it was a video cd, with its cover. infact, it was indeed the video cd of the pornographic film i had borrowed from one of my friends. after a series of slaps, my mom disclosed that jatin found it on my study table, under my maths text book.

25 minutes

This was the last thing i wanted to do. i was never one of those guys who would push boundaries. in cases like this one, if i like a girl, it remained that way till the time i got out of touch. but from my end my feelings were never communicated to the other person.
i was on the bus stand, looking at the waiting fellow passengers, who would board the bus with me. we had been waiting for around 5 minutes now. all this while when i looked at them for the last 5 minutes, although i stared at them, but with each face came a different thought in my perplexed mind. as i moved from face to face, i imagined the various consequences that could result from my actions. i imagined mrigya not opening the door at all, and me standing outside her gate and sweating the same way as i was at this moment thinking about it waiting for the bus. almost out of a blur, the bus arrived. the blur was perhaps of my coming back to present reality, almost the way its visualised in films. we boarded the bus in a civilized and decent way, everyone moving up in a que, something i've come to appreciate about mumbai. i took a window seat, a preferance all kids have, neither was i out of that mode yet. with the unbearable humidity in the city, a bus ride without a window seat could prove to be quite 'saline' indeed! anyway, as the bus moved, my mind blurred back to imaginary sequences of my trying to convince mrigya that all she needs to do is give me one chance. i saw myself telling her that it was ok if she's not in love with me initially, as i'm certain if she gives me that extra liberty of 'being more than just friends', slowly but surely she would fall in love with me someday. i would happily wait for that day, and till then make her happy with the best of my love. i saw myself telling her that i've never loved someone so selflessy, and that i could even be a dog to be with her. i saw her giggling at this, giving an expression through her eyes as if i've lost it. i loved her eyes, they justified her name. i loved her name.
the bus halted due to traffic. we had been in the bus for around 15 minutes by now. ideally it should take me 10 more minutes to reach her place, but the jam could really screw it up. even though i enjoyed all these imaginary sequences going through my mind, i mean all that was missing was a song & dance sequence like in films, but yet i couldn't wait any longer to speak to mrigya. my abdomen was feeling the cramps of anxiety and tension, and apprehension, and what not! the bus halted irritatingly at all bus stands which were amazingly,just a few metres away from the traffic signal. time and again it would so happen that the bus would stop at the stand when the signal's green, and when it moved, the signal was red again, the bus halting inevitably again, delaying my arrival at mrigya's place. at around in 10 more minutes, god knows how, i deboarded the bus, at the stand closest to her place.

these 25 minutes are like a trophy of rememberance for me. i didn't get mrigya in my life as my love interest, and i never will, but that little journey i had made will remain with me as the longest relation i've shared with anyone. even my wife knows about it. i'm sure my kids will too, once they are born.

Anil uncle’s night out

I entered my place at around half past midnight. What struck me from outside itself was that I could see the tube light of our drawing room switched on. Now that was quite strange because our landlord used to be asleep by 11pm, even that being the latest. I hurriedly got in, willing to find out the matter. As I entered, I saw one of my roommates sitting near the telephone, along with one of our neighbors. Our landlord wasn’t there on his bed. Both of the members presently in the room sat silently searching numbers through the telephone diary. On my inquiry, my roommate revealed, that Anil uncle (our landlord) hadn’t returned home till then. He had gone out to visit his doctor during the afternoon.
The phone calls these people made in my absence till then, made them learn that Anil uncle hadn’t reached his doctor. He also, quite surprisingly, wasn’t picking up his cell phone since evening. All the detective literature I had read since my school days started playing on me suddenly, and I began thinking like a sleuth. The first deduction I made was that since we had given uncle umpteen calls till now, and they have been unattended, thence his cell phone should conk off in a while. Also I figured that his not picking up the phone is his inability to do so, and not his choice, because all the calls we made rang till the end. If it was really his choice, after a while he would have disconnected them every time they rang. May be he would have even switched it off. I explained my panicking roommates that uncle must be trapped in a situation where he’s not able to attend to his calls. We checked all the hospitals where he possibly could have gone. We also called all his relatives and friends. All in vain.
I and one other roommate decided to stay awake that night. Others slept. I and the other guy gradually went into a nostalgic conversation and recollection of our graduation days. I discovered that we had common friends, whom both of us knew. We, for a couple of hours almost forgot the reason, for which we were awake, and suddenly I looked at the watch; it was 4 in the morning. My roommate decided to call Anil uncle again. As he called, I stood next to him. Something made me really apprehensive. After a few seconds of my initial nerves, I was back in the moment because of a strange sound. There was an extremely light sound of something rubbing against another, periodically. I smelt the rat. I followed the sound. I was playing Mr. Holmes in my head. I reached the kitchen following it. The sound became more distinct and louder. Now I was chasing it. It came extremely close to my perimeter, but still not found. I called my roommate to the kitchen, like Holmes would to Dr. Watson. He within a few seconds opened a drawer, and pulled out a silently vibrating cell phone. We looked at each other, astonished. Now we knew that uncle had deliberately kept his cell phone on silent mode and went away so that no one reaches him.
A score of days have gone by, Anil uncle still hasn’t returned. We are still waiting for ‘the’ news!

By de'fault'

i was staring at him for quite some time.his navy blue t-shirt went with his complexion so perfectly that it was difficult to not stare at him, atleast for me. even as a child, i knew i wasn't very keen on girls, the way other boys of my age used to crave about them. for me girls were just there for me, existing. my first crush being the immensely good looking actor Rishi Kapoor, even this guy looked quite attractive.
the gentle wind blew, caressing his hair. the curtain of my window touched my nose every now and then as it moved with the cool air passing through. he was waiting at the tea stall for someone. surely he was waiting. he hadn't ordered for a cup of tea till then. atleast i presumed so, even though i was too far away to listen to his conversation with the chaiwala.
from his appearance he looked atleast 3-4 years older than me. there was hair on his face that had been shaved recently, and had grown again. i envied his bicycle too, it just went with his personality so much. for a boy of my age,13, bicycles used to be a big deal. my bicycle was something i was willing to sell for free. it was honestly an embarrassment riding it. in every couple of days i had to go repair it for punctures or my rusted breaks or rusted chain and what not! anyway, his was good, that's the point.
after a while, came a girl dressed in a white t shirt and blue jeans. my friends surely would have found her hot. the love of my life hugged her, and then they went somewhere from the spot in their respective bicycles.
i kept staring at the place he was standing before they left.it was getting dark outside. but that was nowhere close to how dark i felt inside. there was no one at home for a while. i wanted to tell and burst out in front of my mother, about how painfull and dizzy i felt from inside when that boy hugged the girl.
now i really feel it was a blessing in disguise that i couldn't share it to my family that day. the day my family learnt that i am a homosexual, there came an immediate break in the attachment. infact, in an year after that, me and my family parted ways, for more reasons than one though. but surely, this was a major factor. now at 58, unmarried, and with no one who would look after me when i grow older, i feel a terrible void inside me. and this incident suddenly flashes every now and then. not just the boy, but the incident also reminds me of my parents who were not their with me then, and they aren't with me now.

Please love me

There was nothing cheerful about the evening. I still said “cheers”, to myself. Yes! I was drinking alone in my room. Both my roommates were away on their official work and I was back from my job place. It was kind of new to me to drink Jack Daniels all by myself, but I cherished the fact that no one else will get to touch the top notch quality whisky! It was so smooth that the first 2 pegs, no 3 pegs, wait, I don’t remember entirely, whatever….the first 2-3 pegs I drank on the rocks, neat! Smooth it was. Though things started getting blurred. My room suddenly seemed bigger than it usually was, it was suddenly not a 1 BHK anymore (bedroom hall kitchen), it looked atleast a 2 BHK. Never mind.
I got up and began my search for a knife. The kitchen was in a mess. None of us cook but it still looked so used up that nothing was in its place. To my utmost vain I couldn’t find it, the time I needed a knife the most in my life. I began thinking then, what else could be found which would be useful. I wasn’t surely in a mood to die by getting bombed through gas cylinders. The next effective way I thought was finding a rope and tying it to the ceiling fan. How would I find a rope now, only my bed sheets could be used for that purpose. I tied it on the ceiling fan and kept a stool beneath it so that I could climb up and hang. I put my head in between the loop I had made, and kicked the stool with my right foot. For a minute, I struggled…choking to breathe, vomiting out the alcohol, and then I suddenly fell down. The ceiling fan lost its hold on the ceiling wall, and fell with me on the floor. With it fell lumps of cement, which gave my skin a color tone I could have never achieved with sunscreen lotions.
I was unconscious till my roomies woke me up after around a couple of hours. They were panicking with the visual in front of their eyes, and they demanded an instant explanation of the series of events that made me do the heart wrenching act. I started- “I called up mayuri last night. I just wanted to clear it out with her. I just can’t believe two people who were so madly in love once are not speaking at all now. So what that we’ve broken up! Both of us have new partners, don’t we? So why is it so hard for her to just communicate with me and be friends?”

“So what did she say?”

“She wasn’t picking up at first…as usual. I didn’t give up this time. I kept on calling her…continuously. I kept doing it for at least 10 times, and then she picked up. You guys have no clue how she spoke to me…”

“How?”

“She said- I don’t want to speak to you…ever, is that fine with you? I said no… then she said- don’t ever speak to me again, and she hung up after that. How else do you want me to take it and react? It’s so insulting.”

“But you can’t do this because that happened? Mayuri is history ok? Sneha is your present…why do you keep going back to Mayuri’s hallucinations when you’re drunk?”

I had no answer to that. My roommate was right. Perhaps I wasn’t yet out of love for my first. Mayuri was my first love…I felt week in my knees when I first saw her. When we started going around we did so much together, we smoked for the first time together on the college staircase. Both of us surprisingly got drunk on breezers the first time we had it, we hadn’t tasted alcohol by then. I remember we were coming back from a college fest night when we had it, she had her head on my lap after her breezer. It was the first time we smooched, perhaps the most beautiful goodbye I’ve ever shared with someone. Wasn’t all this too much to get out of it? I mean…ya I cannot cling on to the relation once it’s all over, but…
My phone rang suddenly. Sneha was calling. I "picked it up".

The Magician

All of us were craving for the first round of the evening tea. by then we had already exerted ourselves enough with 2 matches of carrom.The third would start only if we get our throats wet with some 'chaa' (tea in bengali). the 'royals club' at park street saw us daily in the evening.if the club was a person, he would have been pissed by now. after our routine office timings, all 4 of us found some valuable excitement and thrill playing our 'hard fought' carrom matches till the club shuts down in the night.
i was called the magician by my friends, there were times when i started the game and no one else got a chance, i finished the whole game without passing on the striker to the next person. ofcourse, it wasn't very common. so i decided to accept the tag too, it made me happy.
the 'chaa' finally arrived, now we would light up our cigarettes and start the third match. i had lost the first two matches, so there was a hell lot of pressure on me to win this one and prove my worth to my friends. there was something wrong with me in the first two matches. i just wasn't able to concentrate, something was bothering me and strangely enough i had no clue what! the third game began miserably for me, my strikes weren't accurate enough, infact i was missing from quite a distance. the count of cigarettes smoked increased, another round of 'chaa'came. i lost the next two games with big margins. suddenly just when the 5th game was about to begin, i got up from my chair and came out of the club. i was feeling suffocated, not because i couldn't breathe, but because i wasn't feeling good at all. my mind and heart both were terribly choked, and sad, and gloomy,and....what not!
i left for my home in a taxi. my father opened the door, as i rushed in and went straight to the bathroom. i splashed chunks of water on my face and eyes, and came out with a towel. right then, my father asked me to come to his room. i smelt trouble. he normally never calls me to his room for a chat.
what he told me cleared my confusion about my awkward feeling the whole evening. my sister had run away from home, with her boyfriend. she had left a note for my father in his room. there was no note for me.