Thursday, February 2, 2012

New Story

Lets tell a story
Neither your nor mine
Just a story


manikchand said...

Couple of four year olds needling you at the Thane station Platform 6

Or the story of the Trees outside

Kalpana said...

@Manikchand-thanks for visitng

Anonymous said...

It is a story of neither your not mine. Just a story. It is not finish yet. So lets play the game of finishing it.


Four years from now exactly in the same day I met with myself in the park across the subway. But he was twenty years junior to me. I recognized him instantaneously because I was ‘he’ just twenty years back. I liked him not because he was ‘me’ but because he had the dream and the energy of what I wanted to be. Strange, I thought, I hated myself twenty years back because I had those attributes; restless, stubborn, inquisitive. I wanted to do something but did not know what was that it was frustrating in those days. He was in black tee, blue jeans and a sneaker. I knew it was not his tees he had borrowed it form a friend, it was Tommy. I knew he didn’t have the money to purchase it.

Nowadays I am not frustrated; you can say I am contend. Somehow I had compromised with myself. I had a stable job and a family with a dog. Family implies my mother and wife. I have no kids and I never wanted to have one. Don’t get me wrong. I like kids, but it comes with a condition. Form me they are pure bundle of joy not a pain in the ***. So, if they are not crying and playing with me and not pooping or peeing I like them. So, what I am saying is that I had gone into a compromise with myself. I will be happy with what I get and will not seek more. The key to happiness, is it?

I just called him from the back, ‘hi’I said, he looked back. Same black hair, dark eyes, with a cut in the cheek. Still now I have the cut. Not a birthmark but a reminder of a childhood fight when I was attacked by a blade. The red and white logo was prominent in left chest of the tee. I wanted to start a conversation with him. Just talk to myself only in this case ‘the myself’ is twenty years younger. I knew he won’t like talking to me, I usually avoided strangers.

‘Do you have some light’ I asked.
I knew he had a lighter; I used to carry it during that time. It was a gift from a friend from the college. He gave me that same lighter, a black “zippo” with a skull engraved on the body. I searched for the pockets and there was no cigarette. I had quit cigarette since ten years. But I had to show in front of him that I still smoke or else it makes no sense to stop him.

Sorry, I left the packet in the home. Why don’t come with me and have a smoke. Let me buy it from the stall below the subway.
He followed me, it was strange. I never did it. I never followed a stranger. But I was not a stranger for him. I was him just twenty years in future same body, same blood and exactly same DNA sequence. So, we walked cross the park and went to the stall and bought two IK.
It was my first puff after ten years and the taste was strange very alien to me. He started making rings by curling his tongue and flicking it when he exhales the smoke. I used to do it when I was him when I relished a smoke, twenty years back.


Beyond Words.............. said...

I started a conversation with him, a usual query to a stranger, though he was not actually, "what do you do?" A glimpse of his restless behavior was evident through his talk. He replied 'learning graphic designing'. I complimented him " you are a creative guy". He got back spontaneously "yeah creative and there's lot of earning too" Yeah money that is what you desire most during youth. I too desired it, made compromises, adjustments and thus reached the position where I am today. While relishing the puff and the commotion with that boy a thought hit me that in our battle to earn our daily living we gain a lot, but we lose ourselves, and some moments in life tries to remind us of the spark we miss while completing our daily errands.
It was already dark by then, we had already moved on to our third cigarette in between our conversation, and it was interrupted by he calling up someone to ask to pick him up from where he was with me. Within 5 minutes we saw a motorbike coming towards our direction. The boy signaled it to stop and both of them threatened me and looted me of all my belongings- Rs. 2000/- in my wallet, my new cell phone and gold chain received from my in-laws. And while returning home on foot I realized it was not 'me'whom I had met.

Anonymous said...

a nice move from surrealism to realism...

Charu Rishi said...

awesome job guys... loved reading ur story

sm said...

to many stories to be told

Binu MID said...

listening . . .

just finished telling mine