Awesome Blossoms: Horn OK Please (11 page)

On one side, there was a small calendar with
images of Indian Gods and Deities. The rubble of semi-burnt incense sticks was spread around the place. The driver had also lit an incense sticks when we were getting inside the truck. It seemed that he wanted to put on a good show and give the children a jolly good experience to remember. I suppose he did more than succeed.

There were a few cassette tapes
lying near the hood. Those were the days of cassette players, not CDs or MP3s. To make the ride more enjoyable for us, the driver wanted to play his favorite music. He fumbled around till he found what he was looking for in a heap of loosely thrown cassettes. There was no way I could figure what he was playing but it sure sounded extremely depressing. 

I was expecting nursery rhymes, not songs from a lovelorn singer from 1950s! Everything about the song was depressing not that I understood a word of it. Maybe, it was because of listening to such songs he always looked unkempt and filthy.

Then unable to hold back my curiosity, I asked him, “What are those numbers written on the gear stick?”

“To keep truck running, we have to shift gears according to the
terrain”, he answered in a plain tone, “It’s just like life. Sometimes high, sometimes low”

“But h
ow do you right speed based on numbers?” I asked again, unable to fathom what he said.

“You learn with time and experience”, he answered as he looked out of the win
dow to avoid further questions, “Enjoy the ride. Don’t think too much”.

I
realized it was best to keep quiet. I started looking around again and noticed posters of a Bollywood movie actress pasted near the back seat and the sidewalls of the truck. I couldn’t fathom the fetish truck drivers have about posters of movie actresses then but I do suppose I know it now. In fact, these romantics even name their trucks after movie stars.

The smell of grease and diesel filled the cockpit as the truck moved noisily and slowly. I watched
the loose mirrors and decorations clang against each other. The chiming of little bells that hung from the ceiling added more melody to the ride. I hoped it would drown the depressing song.

I glanced
at the grumpy driver from the corner of my eye. For a fleeting moment, I envied him. His life seemed totally awesome to me. He had the opportunity to drive such a big vehicle without restraint and see new places and halt whenever he wished to. He didn’t have to worry about his uniform; he didn’t have to polish shoes either. And the most important of all, he didn’t have to worry about grades and school. The thought kept crossing my mind. But little did I know about his perspective towards his life. At that age, everything looked cool and exciting to me.

I
wanted to become a truck driver then as opposed to my earlier dream to become a journalist.

Just that when I would own a truck, I wouldn’t have silly posters or garish decorations inside. Everything around me has to be pink. I’d rather have stuffed toys, clean seats and comic books. I’d certainly not have audio cassettes of depressing songs sung by dead, depressed singers of yore.

I never realized when the ride came to an end. We were there at school already.

The helper at school helped us alight from the truck. Before getting down, I looked back once at the driver. He was finally smiling. The look in his eyes told me that he must have a daughter and would be missing her terribly. Though for a brief moment, I think I saw a human being in him.

Maybe, the loneliness of the ride teaches one many things. Looking back, when someone tells me that life is a journey, I tend to agree. We change; our perspectives change overtime as we grow older.

But one thing remains. Me
mories. Fond memories. Like the truck ride will be for me. I’ve never been inside a truck ever
after. Maybe, I never will. I’d rather cherish the memory. Horn OK Please.
 

***

CHAPTER TEN

By Deepa Venkatesh

***

We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.

- Winston Churchill

Moments That
Matter

I
t was a typical lazy day in the small village nestled in the rolling hills of Himachal Pradesh. The vast expanse of sprawling wheat fields defined a small farming community. The early morning sun bathed the fields as the farmers went about their daily chores. The world was at peace with the village and its inhabitants. Life seemed to love the quaint, old village a little bit more than the rest of the world.

Amidst the small clump of about fifty houses that defined the village, the prettiest one was where the flowers bloomed. Destiny was smiling at Ananya; a beautiful girl with jet-black hair. Barely into her twenties, Ananya was no
t a child nor a woman. She was in the cusp of transition. She was now a tall, slender woman and her features were delicate and charmingly etched.

There was something in her face that was like a flash of lightening, but then she was altogether like a flame – lively, swift, and light. Her large, wide-open eyes seemed to scatter sparks; they glittered like diamonds. A smile
donned her lips that bore the freshness of a rose at dawn. She was happy today, happier than ever and she had no idea why. 

Her hair was neatly pinned back by white hair band and she was dressed in a neatly ironed white top and a blue skirt. She hurriedly stepped out of the small hut and walked briskly across the courtyard towards the gate. She took in the crisp, morning air as she glanced at the flower patch that adorned her garden right in front of the sprawling lawns of the house she loved to call home.

She felt a sense of pride as she paused and looked around to see the morning mist being bathed by the sun that made the dewdrops shine on the moist, green grass. The flowers were in full bloom and seemed to reflect Ananya’s happiness. Her small village was nature’s gift to the world while her home was her parent’s gift to her. Of course, the flower patch was her gift to the village. She lived in a perfect world.

She smiled as she jumped over the picket fence and chirpily sauntered across the courtyard of their neighbor’s house. Not that she was not happy to meet Aunt Shreya, the soft-spoken widow in her mid-fifties who was her neighbor, she was particularly happy that today she had a reason to meet her. After all, it was not everyday that Ananya would have an excuse to walk into Aunt Shreya’s house.

Today was different. Her own mother had sent her to meet Aunt Shreya on an errand. Her heart was jumping for joy for it was just another excuse to meet Rahul, the handsome twenty-something son of Aunt Shreya. Ananya always cherished the maternal love Aunt  Shreya showered upon her.

Ananya loved it every time she could meet Aunt Shreya or be in their house with her. After all, the house was also Rahul’s home. Rahul, the tall, handsome young man was now a farmer. Aunt Shreya owned a small farm where Rahul toiled to grow wheat. Their backyard housed a cowshed where she kept her five cows.

Rahul’s father had joined the army since he didn’t like being a farmer. He had died in a skirmish at the border when Rahul was barely twelve. Rahul had no choice but to grow up quickly. It was his emotional maturity and responsibility that made him become the eye-candy for Ananya. As childhood friends, their friendship had bloomed over the years and now blossomed into something beyond, after his father’s death.

Ananya thought about her mom
who had sent her to Aunt Shreya’s house to bring back a brick of cottage cheese. As she knocked on Aunt Shreya’s door, she secretly wished it would be Rahul who would open the door. She waited patiently at the door as she smiled listening to the soft mooing of the cows from the backyard. The clanking sound of buckets and pans made her hope that the man of the house would be equally delighted to see her.

The raspy sound of clanging pails was something she loved to listen to since it was her childhood friend who would be at work. Rahul never ceased to make her smile no matter how low he himself had felt. It was his pleasant disposition and the respect towards the other gender that made him earn Ananya’s respect and affection.

“Wait up, child, almost there!” Aunt Shreya’s voice came from behind the thick wooden door of the house. The door creaked open and a pleasant face smiled at Ananya and said, “Come in, my child. I’m so sorry! I took so long to open the door. It’s my age, you see?”

“Aw, come on, Auntie! You’re still very young and beautiful! I’m here to pick up a brick of cottage cheese my mom sent me here for”, said Ananya, conscious of the fact she was blushing and Aunt Shreya could sense it.

“I’ve only popped in for a brief moment to say hello, aunty Shreya. Is Rahul not there?” Ananya said in a hurry when she saw her blushing. She could make out that Ananya had actually come in to get a glimpse of Rahul.

“Why
are you standing at the door then? Come inside! I’ve got things to do. I’ve got to get back to the cows. Don’t I really know why you came here for, my child? He’s somewhere in the house” said Aunt Shreya and winked at her. Ananya was unable to suppress her glee as she stood at the door sporting a wide grin as her eyes searched for Rahul inside the house.

She always felt at home in Aunt Shreya’s house. She made herself comfortable on a rocking chair as she sat listening to Aunt Shr
eya hum cheerfully and started humming along with her. She did seem a bit extra cheerful that day but Ananya let it pass.

“Aunty
, you’ve got a very sweet voice but I’ve never heard you sing?” said Ananya, unable to hold back her enthusiasm as she cut Aunt Shreya’s humming. She loved her for the old woman was always cheerful and full of life. Probably, Rahul had inherited his cheerfulness from his mother.

“
Well, I’m not really a singer, Ananya. I never had any time for hobbies. There’s always so much to do around the house”, said Aunty Shreya as she disappeared into the kitchen to fetch the brick of cheese for Ananya.

She always
enjoyed the freedom Aunt Shreya gave her. It was her house too. After all, it was her best friend’s house. It was a sprawling old bungalow with a courtyard at the center of the house that was open to the sky. Just a few rooms but Aunt Shreya was a stickler for cleanliness and she’d always kept it spic and span.

“Isn’t
Rahul working too hard now a days in the fields? We rarely meet anymore”, said Ananya, her disappointment showing on her face.

“He
’s got no choice, girl, you know that. Since his father died in the war, the poor boy never had a childhood. I always feel bad that he had to grow up so quickly. Probably the only good thing that happened in his life is you”, said Aunt Shreya as Ananya stared into vast emptiness that suddenly seemed to appear in front of her from nowhere.

Aunt Shreya smiled mischievously and disappeared into the kitchen once again as Ananya stood silently in the room, clutching the brick of cheese tightly. Rahul was nowhere in sight. Something weird was going on. Aunt Shreya was running away from Ananya that day.

Not wanting to overstay her welcome, Ananya took the cheese from her and was about to leave when Rahul walked into the room and announced, “Anybody mentioned my name?” He stood in the doorway and smiled gently at Ananya. Time stood still as Rahul looked into her eyes.

“I…I’ve got to go. Mom’s waiting for the cheese”, said Ananya shyly as she looked away and headed to the door, “Take care of your health. You’ve been working way too hard”.

“Wait, can we go for a walk?” said Rahul hesitantly as he tried to stop her from leaving, “It’s been ages since we spoke”.

“A walk? Now?” said Ananya, taken aback, “Don’t you have to get to the fields?”

“Now. Come, let’s go”, said Rahul.

The sky had turned gray and overcast as the sun found solace behind dark clouds. Brick of cheese in hand, Ananya followed Rahul meekly. “Let’s go to our favorite spot. The place we used to visit everyday when we were kids. Rumpelstiltskin’s house, do you remember? Game?”

Ananya gasped as she covered her mouth with her hand and exclaimed, “You mean you remember? The dry canal close to the waterfall near your farm? You remember we called that Rumpelstiltskin’s house since we imagined it to be the dwelling of that character from a fairy?”

Rahul smiled and said, “Hah! I wonder how you came up with the name. Come on! Stop dawdling. Let’s go. I have something important to tell you”.

Ananya’s head was swimming. She was completely taken by surprise as a sea of memories engulfed her mind. She was five years old and Rahul was eight when they had discovered the place. She’d named it ‘Rumpelstiltskin’s house’. That’s what they had called the rock that overlooked Rahul’s farm right next to the canal that flowed. It was a large, six-foot monolithic rock that was easy to climb from one side. 

The top of the rock was flat and two people could sit comfortably on top. It was easy to get to the top for one side of the rock had natural grooves that formed a step. Five steps and you could reach the top. They would sit on top of the rock that overlooked the canal and Rahul’s father could keep an eye on both of them as he worked in the fields.

In all childhood innocence, they used to imagine the rock to be Rumpelstiltskin’s house for it was the magical doorway that would lead to a labyrinth underground where the dwarf lived. That was Ananya’s imagination. They would spend the entire day on the rock talking about everything under the sun. They would talk about their dreams, the magic of the world, the soaking in the rains and mythical beings.

Sometimes, when the crop cultivation was in progress, they would be allowed to sit there till it turned dark. They would search for shooting stars in the night sky and look for UFOs. It was a place that defined them both; it gave them a sense of belonging. It was the place of innocence where their bond was forged.

When Rahul’s father had passed away, he would be sobbing and Ananya would sit silently next to him as if to comfort him. And now Rahul was twenty-five and Ananya was all of twenty-two. The childhood innocence had somewhere turned into a deeper bond. When they reached Rumpelstiltskin’s house, Rahul sat quietly while Ananya looked the other way, brick of cheese in hand.

It was a beautiful, cloudy day and the fields surround
ing them looked vibrant and happy. She no longer wanted to go home, the gentle breeze and the dead silence made her skin tingle in anticipation. She sat quietly, tightly clutching the brick of cheese.

It had started to drizzle when Rahul finally proposed, “Ananya, will you marry me?” Ananya had kept quiet for some
time and then nodded. He held her hand for some time before she said shyly, “It’s really late. I need to go home. Let’s get married at the earliest then”.

“No. I mean real soon. Like next week!” said Rahul, “I’ve going to join the Army, not sure if my Mom told you that. I’ve to report for duty next week immediately after the wedding”.

Ananya didn’t know how to respond. Her heart sank. It was all moving too fast.

She tried to swim in a sea of memories that suddenly seemed to take control of her. The fact that her mother wanted the cheese before lunch completely slipped her mind.
Her heart sank. She thought about the loneliness that would engulf her after he would leave.

She was happy that they were getting married though. She was already close to tears. Tears of joy and tears of pain as she felt mixed emotions for the first time. She loved spending time with him. She wanted him to be happy. After all, he was a soldier like his father.
A flash of lightening cracked through the sky followed by the sound of thunder. It had started to rain. They ran all the way back to the village.

Ananya’s tears easily mixed with the raindrops that day.

Once Rahul dropped her home, she was surprised to learn that her mother knew about it already. She was even more surprised when her mother told her that Aunty Shreya knew about it too. She was the last one to know that she would be getting married to Rahul in a week. It had all been staged.

It was a long, lonely evening as Rahul went back to his chores. It had all been too fast for her. She felt the blood drain from her and felt dizzy as she dried herself.

“Let’s get married.” Ananya said to herself and smiled, repeating what had happened during the day. Her cheeks were flushed and she buried her face in her pillow.

And so it happened.
Within a week, they were married and Rahul left for the border. In the next six months, Aunt Shreya succumbed to cancer after battling it for over 12 years. She had been a strong-willed woman who refused to let her cancer take away her spirit or rob her of her happiness.

She always smiled, through the pain, through the grief and through the fear. 
Life had suddenly turned upside down for Ananya.

***

The next five years went by quickly. Rahul would come home once in six months for a week at the most and go back. Ananya’s life wasn’t a fairy tale anymore. Her eyes filled up when she remembered their last conversation when he had said, “I’m sorry. Please forgive me for that if you can. I am immensely grateful to you just because you exist. I know I can give you a better life but I had promised my father that I would join the army. He had always wanted me to. He always hated being a farmer and that’s why he had quit”, Rahul’s eyes brimmed with tears.

Ananya
turned towards Rahul and had said in a feeble, stricken voice, “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. I know, it’s your duty towards the country that is more important than anything else now. We’ve lived five years like this and we don’t have a child yet. You shouldn’t have married at all”.