Telling
a story is so much like singing a song; you need a rhythm that sways the
reader, your pitch should be perfect and the words must be crystal clear,
falling into the listener’s ear with the finest clarity. But sometimes the singer
has to throw away all these rules to sing a song. There will be jerks in the
rhythms, raga and shruthi will have to be ignored and
words will be reduced into blasting sounds. There will be nothing but energy in
that song. Such is the story I am going to sing today – My story. Well… Read
and Enjoy!
My story starts, obviously, the day I
was born. But being a family man, living a peaceful life, I have to say my real
story, the story that shaped the man who I am today starts in the first week of
9th standard; Junior college as we used to call it back then.
After college everybody laughs at that
phrase, but an unbiased perspective will tell you that there was something
about the last four years at school that gave a tint of college life. It was
marked by radical life-changing turning points, so many colours and plummeting
attendance. What you learn over there will mould your life. I learnt a lot from
Ajith. And it almost moulded my life.
For us 9th graders, 11th
graders were nothing less than Gods. Just
out of 10th standard Board Exam pressure and absolutely ignorant of
the academic importance thrust in the year, they were the symbols of the
explosion youngsters could make. They had the energy, the power, the vibrancy,
the charm… The Charisma! They were the epitome of “Fun”, ask any school
student. Best at Basketball, soccer and cricket, amazing pranksters, unbeatable
at repartee, kings and queens of wit and for some illogical reason – stunningly
good looking! Let me put it straight, for us, hanging out with one of them was
like; our ultimate ambition. Being known as, “The guy who hangs out with those
11th graders” would do wonders to your social status (which
obviously meant everything to a school boy. And a college boy. And basically
any human being in the world)
And Ajith was my hero. Boy, what is it
about him that almost makes you gay. I swear I have fallen in love with him
every time he smiles at me. How is Ocean blue eyes just throw me into an
imperius curse! What was it about him? He was tall, handsome, smart, funny,
friendly, athletic, and astonishingly popular; every girl admitted her love for
him. How does all this work? Charisma… the mystery behind the word is seriously
annoying.
Thankfully, or maybe not, I had known
these two facts much before I got into 9th standard and by God’s
grace, I got to know him in the first week of school itself. There, as I told
you all earlier, started my story. For most of my batch mates, this part of the
story might be the longest. But lucky for you, this is all there is in my case:
“Anila,
I have something to tell you. And I won’t make this long. Just 3 words” The
round faced girl with plaited hair and a beautiful big bindi turned red, her
eyes almost pooped out. “I”, followed by the most clichéd pause and a sigh for
special effects, “have a really bad stomach ache. Do you have any medicines or
something?”
“GO TO THE DOCTOR YOU JACKASS!!!” I
had cracked up and started towards the gang before she could react. “And that’s
14 by the way!”
“Sorry, always been bad at maths”
Bonus points! Ajith’s right hand man, Vinay was patting my shoulder and I could
see the boss himself beaming at me.
“Good job kiddo”, Ajith high-fived me,
and I had made my Grand Entry into the Most Prestigious Posse of City
International School. Tadaaaa!!!
Boy
was that year fun! Was there a day I had not laughed? Was there a day that was
not awesome? Started out with movies and lunch get-togethers, but soon I was
with them travelling across the country for a vacation. Late night hang-outs
and partying at bars had become a norm. Drinking became a habit and smoking
became an addiction. And girls were flocking towards me. Dream come true
moments.
I
mean, I could actually see myself a few months back, yearning to have fun, the
way you are supposed to have fun. And there I was, living the moment. In a
matter of few months school life had changed upside-down. I was the centre of
attraction in my batch – junior Ajith, as many called me! People wished they
could hang out with me, guys and gals were shy of talking to me, and my juniors
looked up to me with awe. Lived every minute of it, let me tell you. When
somebody treats you like a boss, be the boss! And when people don’t, treat them
like shit!
“Where
are you going?” My mom enquired, and that pissed me off. Moreover, the place
where I was going to… was not a place anyone would discuss with their parents.
“Mom,
I am not a kid. Please let me be myself…” My mom was always that annoying type.
You know, always nagging you, “Where are you going?”, “When will you be back?”,
“Be careful when you cross the road” and it goes on and on and on and on… Of
late, I learnt to ignore it. I seriously didn’t want anything to ruin the
moment. I was fussy about my royal stature.
“How do
you get rid of annoying Moms?” I asked Ajith one day. It seems it was a
question almost everyone in our group had.
“Get
married”
“And
how do you get rid of annoying wives?” another question popped up.
“You
can’t. Law of the universe my pal. An annoying woman is always there to ruin
the day!” Ajith was unstoppable.
So
was my mom. “Did you do your homework today?”
“Mom,
FIY, I got past 4th standard five year back!” I simply walked out of
the house.
And
as I explored new arenas of school life, started moving to next levels, even my
mom started stepping up her game. Can’t call it a game, sometimes it was
seriously annoying and got on my nerves.
“That
doesn’t even belong to me. I have to return it tomorrow. Got it just for one
bloody day, can’t you at least let me play for that one day?” – When she hid
the PSP I borrowed from my friend, so that I focus on my studies. Things got a
tad rougher when she found cigarettes under my bed.
If my mom was tough, I was the Don.
Nothing could stop me from living the life. I played my Play Station, had me
drinks and lived my life. Yeah, she was there with her constant policing, but
as they say, Don ko pakadna mushkil hi
nahin, Namumkin Hai!
Until finally we reached the, “This
ends here!” moment. Kind of too childish to describe the situation actually, because
what happened could easily be called as World War III if she anybody but my
Mom. Second term results were out and she found the report card which, I
thought I had were tactfully hidden! “WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING IN SCHOOL? WHAT
KIND OF MARKS ARE THESE?” The anger in her eyes…
“Amma, nobody studies in 9th
standard. Nobody will even see these marks. Everybody -”
“I DON’T WANT TO LISTEN ABOUT
EVERYBODY. I DON’T WANT TO LISTEN TO ANYTHING. THERE IS A LIMIT; I CANNOT
TOLERATE ANY MORE OF THIS NONSENSE!”
“Who is asking you to?”
I almost did it in my pants I swear!
The way her face turned, tears filled in her eyes, cheeks turned red, as if on
fire. She was shivering all over, never had I seen her like that. She grabbed
my hand with every ounce of strength and pulled me into my room. “YOU ARE
SITTING IN HERE. THAT IS IT!” She screamed locking the room from outside. And I
could not even move. The entire scene had paralysed my. And worse, I would miss
my movie that night!
And for a whole day, she did not open
the door. I figured she meant business. For even if I had blasted the twin
tower and my mom happened to be the President of the US, she would still give
me three meals a day!
One of Ajith’s friends had once told
me how to open locked doors without the key. You could use a safety pin; twist
it into a key and “Open sesame!” had never tried it before, but it worked. It
was well past midnight, so I figured mom must have been asleep. Thought of
dialling Ajith and meeting up. Cautiously, I moved to the living room to get
out of the house. I found my mom lying on the floor in front of the sofa. She
had fainted.
I rushed towards her, her glaring face
filled with tears still in front of my eyes, pulled her head on my lap and
tried to wake her up. She wouldn’t wake up. Brought a glass of water from the
kitchen and sprinkled it on her face, slowly she opened her eyes. Her head
turned towards me and she jerked up, “Oh! Wait, oh my God, did I fall asleep.
So sorry da! Wait, dinner is ready, eat now”
She ran towards the kitchen chiding
herself. “How could I fall asleep!? Oh my God, my boy has not eaten anything
today. Here, eat fast. Shayy! I
didn’t feed you anything, Oh my God!”
Wait, did my mom just get Alzheimer’s
or something. What was going on? I was shocked. “I am so sorry da. I shouldn’t
have locked you up. I don’t know, I got so angry, and… so,” and she started
weeping. “I didn’t know what to do. How to make you listen? How to make you
understand? You listen to your friends and obey every word they say. They are
cool, and all that. I am not. What would I do? I just didn’t know. I am so
sorry da. Here, have some more. Do you want anything else?”
Obey every word they say? I didn’t
obey everything they said. I was not their slave. Wait… I…
“Dad, I going to play with my friends.
And in the name of bloody heaven will you get my cell phone fixed atleast
today!? It has been almost a week since I have been screaming and… I want it
perfectly working today itself, alright?” My son shouted from across the room
and slammed the door.
That night my mom taught me two
things:
1. Charisma a curse. It makes you
oblivious about a beautiful world; that is just not charismatic.
2. If you set your heart to it.
You can even make a blind man see.
And today my son reminded me one thing. Life has
to go a full circle. Wonder where I kept the keys to his room?
Love
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