One among many illusions

I was never able to love or rather adjust with my one bed room house in Hyderabad, which is not mine - I have a room mate too. Though my room mate showed the mercy of leaving me alone in the bed room, giving me complete freedom, I was dissatisfied with the house altogether.
After the transition to this one entry- no exit, two windowed house in the big city, form my vast-wide-large village house which was almost transparent to have enough windows with always open window panes and walls away from a hand stretch, I felt my wings tied around.
Due to my long sleeping hours in day and longer reading-writing hours in night and strange stares at him on his timely jokes my room mate decided to start his life in the hall. I jumped from my cot to table , table to chair and chair to cot trying different permutations and combinations with these three objects in my room to stop my restless attempt to find peace. In this heavy routine I was never able to find some time to realize my room mate's futile
attempts to understand what I am trying to find out in this house - which I named peace and comfort at times.

'Hmm..I was thinking....' I paused for a minute and saw a question mark cropping up on my friends face. He didn't ask 'about what?', but I heard.
'Can we shift to a new place?' I appended.

'But whats the problem with this house? '

A question to answer another question - the long used habit of humans! I left the conversation. Two questions stared at each other for some time and evaporated in the dusty air of the City.

I went back to my room - which was not mine - to see the lizards, cockroaches and mosquitoes - to find comfort between them. Cursing the howling and screaming of the students in the upper story, I formed a DNA helix structure in my bed and tried to sleep with open eyes.

I woke up at 2.00 in the night and turned on the lights. I started writing a story about the lilac color of the sky in the evenings but reached nowhere. An insect flew into my room when I switched on the lights and got trapped in the labyrinth of the numerous broken cobwebs left by the spiders. The insect fluttered its wings and the sticky cobwebs trapped it well inside. I felt a honey bee quivering inside me.

It was Christmas holidays the coming week and we both planned going home, locking the house for 9 continuous days. After one full day travel when I reached home, I had a complete plan in my head to what to do at each day, hour and minute. I saw my room, my table - no dust, my cot - hard to find wrinkles, lying steadily with the bed sheet smelling of naphthalene, all windows open. The smell and feel of my home, but not my room.

Thinking about as what to do first and changing the priorites of the Do's in my list I spent one full day, doing nothing. I missed the lilac sky at 6 in the evening as I was talking to my sister that time. I pushed the visit to the mango groves and paddy fields to the coming days.

At sharp 10 in the evening I went to bed to sleep like a cat. With my hands crossed on my stomach I lay there thinking about how I used to sleep at home. I changed the position as the previous one was too steady for a sleep. Keeping the pillow on my four sides, inside and outside the bedsheet, upside down, all possible angles I tried to sleep. I was not able to! I sat on my bed, drank some water and looked at the wall clock. Oh yes! the clock is missing, the 'Tic-Tic' is missing. I took the old clock back which was shifted to kitchen, with my shifting to the City.

I jumped to my bed and tried sleeping happily. Five minutes went by...then ten.I am still awake! Is it because of the 'Tic-Tic'?

I went to my table, opened the drawer and saw the Cards and letters I got from my friends. My certificates, diary, old pens, pencils, eraser, name slip collection, a toy car, a box full of old coins...
When I woke up at 8 in the morning I was sleeping on the chair leaning against the table. Two more nights went by, so many things came into and went outside my room. My sleep neither came inside nor went outside - it was missing!!

Fourth day morning I went back to the 'City' lying to my parents about 'some urgent work'. I never bothered about lilac evenings while I was at home. They are memories to cherish when you are away.
Back to city! back to My shabby room. Dusty, suffocating air around, I saw lizards and cockroaches running away from my books and bed. My bed didn't smell of naphthalene but was homely. I saw the round black mark near my bed, which my oily head made during my days here. I sat on the chair tired, looking around for some time. 'Zzzzz...' a honey bee wooing around. Did it find a hidden flower? or escaped into a garden?

Cuckoo and two women

I was walking. Was the road empty? I didnt know as my thoughts were all wandering about. A drop of water on my shoulder! I woke up partially from my dreams. Paused for a minute, a sigh...Was that your tear drop? I thought I would smile, but didnt.

"DING..." tolled the church bells.

A starched white sunday sari whispered beside me.That was time to wake up from a day dream. Sundays were boring but that never gave the freedom to sleep on a crowded road.
But still I sat on a green wooden bench beneath the Badam tree.












The bench was not completely green. The paint was stripped off at several places. The restless hands of the endless lovers had been working on them unconsiously. Only loveres were allowed to, or atleast supposed to sit on those bencehs. I too sat on the same bench.

One big 'I Love You' on the poor tree trunk. Who loved whom? Though not lovers, youngsters prefer to write that on all lonely places to get some hidden satisfaction. I thought I would smile, but didn't.

I tried to remember my talk over the phone yesterday. Did I ever say that I love her? Oh I don't remember! Such a poor memory I have. What if I told that? No no..my hands are not shivering! I am sure I would never say those frivolous words ever to anyone.

"Cooo"... Cuckoo came there in her black gown with all the other women in whilte starched sari. And she said the worng thing at the wrong time as usual; a 'Cooo'.

'Don't ever sing back to a cuckoo - it will bring sad memories to you' - I remebered my Grandma's words.

Confused I am always when Cuckoo sings.

'Sing along with the cuckoo until it flies away!' my Mom says.
Cuckoo never knew so many people are concerned about her song, or it leaves somebody like me in confusion.

'Coo' said she again and I heard her wings fluttering. Did I sing back? Or the cuckoo started singing after hearing me singing 'Coo Coo'. Did I say? Did my Grandma hear? Didn't my Mom hear?