Awesome Blossoms: Horn OK Please (17 page)

A fear wrenched my guts. I collapsed within. My perfect world! My picture perfect postcard of a world!

Ding Dong!! The doorbell rang incessantly.

I could hear Rohan’s fading voice in the background, “Raina, there is someone at the door.”

Was it my best friend? Was it him?

My nemesis.

***

SECTION V

LILY

By
Raquel Lopez de Sebastian

***

Treasure of youth,

beauty, dreams

and future plans,

destroyed by spirit madness

in a dark, doomed night.

News are so chilling,

that just one word comes to my mind:

Why?

Longer question:

Why such a coarse pattern

must be traced on such a delicate tissue?

(as the poet wrote once).

Cozy, peaceful night for me,

a sweet summer night,

but when I close my eyes,

I hear the painful, helpless scream

of a defenseless one.

Human becoming worse than a beast,

so avid, ruthless and wild

is a mystery I fail to understand.

Does hope remain on School? Progress? Laws?

I am waiting for the answer of the Wise
.
***

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

By Anusha Wickramsinghe

***

Friendship isn'
t about whom you have known the
longest... It's about who came, and never left your side...

- Unknown

The Ship of Friendship

I
t was late in the evening. A soft music played in the background. The copper bell that hung from the entrance chimed, each time a visitor opened the door. The three girls sat in the dimly lit restaurant, each gazing attentively at the menu in their hands. It was time to take a break from the laughter and silly talks which had been going on incessantly since afternoon. They needed a good few minutes to catch their breath, as they searched the delectable menu unable to make a decision. Everything looked sumptuous on paper under the yellow light that brought about a relaxing aura in the dining space.

“I want fresh watermelon juice.” said Miranda, finally looking up. “And this prawn in coconut something.” “Hmmm…” contemplated Anusha, “I’ll too have the watermelon, but I don’t think the coconut something would
taste good. I’ll have … mmmm…. grilled pork chops. What about you Sharon?”

“I don’t know. I think I’ll go with Caesar’s Salad. Wow! It looks scrumptious! And I’ll take a mango milkshake as well” Sharon was always health conscious.

They tried to get the attention of the almost non-existent waiters, and after a lot of effort (like waving and making sounds which otherwise couldn’t be heard in a restaurant) one of them came to take their order. “Slow coaches!” They thought in unison, smiling outwardly at the waiter.

After he took their orders and headed towards the kitchen, Miranda stuck her tongue out at him. They all laughed together making theirs the noisiest table in the restaurant, and of course attracting incessant stares from the fellow diners.

“How long have we been friends, girls?” Anusha tried to remember. “Twenty years?” “More than that I think.” said Sharon.

“We’ve been friends for more than half our lives!” quipped Miranda.

“Oh my God!” Sharon laughed her guts out. She continued as she made a disgusted face, “I just remembered the school toilets.”

The other two laughed, getting nostalgic about the past.

“Remember how we had to hold the door shut from the outside?” Sharon tried to refresh their memories.

Indeed, it was a story which had been told over and over and each time it brought about the same amount of laughter. They never stopped enjoying the story.

“And do you remember the sports meet?” Anusha asked.

“Mmm-hmmm, Sharon broke my finger, how can I forget!” Miranda recalled. “Mercy!” Sharon shouted, remembering the game from their school days.

They all laughed again. The three girls looked at each other, and for a moment each one of them got absorbed in the thoughts of the time bygone, the time they had spent together; in school
and out of school.

Each
one of them was so different from the other, and yet they had always stuck together as friends, and still did. Each of their days would start differently, end differently, and yet the bond of friendship always kept them together.

Each one of them remembered the past, the way things used to be, each lost in their own precious memories. They were epitome of unity in diversity.

Sharon:

Sharon travelled back in time and she saw a simple but pretty girl in a white uniform and blue tie. White shoes, blue schoolbag. She was with two other girls. Who else, but her best buddies, and they were in a beautifully manicured garden. This garden had a lot of sunshine, a lot of activity, a lot of laughter.

Yes, it was a school trip to the Botanical Gardens up in the Hill Capital. A vast expanse of beauty and color, and it was here under the shade of the huge old trees that they had their lunch. The girls sat on the ground; none cared about getting their white uniforms dirty, or sitting in the muddy grass. The three friends shared their food with each other. A napkin was placed on the ground, and they had to practically bend down all the way to eat the food from the lunch boxes which were placed on the napkin. Of all the things, they were eating rice and it was uncomfortable as hell!

Their teacher, a chubby but lovable lady who taught them English as well, was sitting only a few feet away. Though she appeared strict but was not really so. They had nicknamed her ‘goldfish’, probably because of the shape of her mouth. Miranda had chosen that name for her.

The ‘goldfish’ sat close to where they were eating. She distinctly remembered her blue schoolbag being there, because it was drizzling over in the Hill Capital, and she remembered she had a matching blue umbrella, which she carried around as she walked in the garden, and posed for
the photographs.

Many pictures were clicked using the old fashioned reel cameras. That era didn’t know about the digital cameras and one had to wait for weeks to actually get to see the pictures that were clicked long back. Still, life was simpler, there was more fun to it, one really ‘lived’ life, unlike now.

She remembered that they had visited some temples in that trip. The three friends were not really listening to what the teachers were explaining to them, but enjoying being out of school, away on a trip with each other. They clicked snaps just like that, without giving any thought on whether they looked silly, or un-ladylike.

They had gorged all possible junk while on the bus, a favorite being the peeled ‘Jumbola’ a huge grapefruit like orange which was very sour to eat. But they ate it and relished it, nevertheless. She grimaced at the thought of eating something so sour as a grown up, and wondered at which point in her life had her tongue got so accustomed to and started to desire only the very best of cuisine, or the exotic delicacies that cost thousands more than that simple fruit with its sour taste. When had her palate changed? When had everything changed, she asked herself, falling back into a somber mood.

The memories were wonderful; those were the ones that she cherished for a lifetime. The fun that they shared,

the talks, the jokes… It was all coming back.

The three of them always occupied their usual seats at school. They preferred being back benchers. Two of them sat in the front while one sat at the back. They never ever sat anywhere else, it was like a labeled corner for them. It was a great way to sit, to be able to talk while the teacher was going on with the lesson, and a great way to chat during the break. And during the interval? Well, that was the greatest time of the day. They could simply sit back in their chairs and smile at each other as they relished the food.

Sometimes, when the teacher would be absent, it was a great way to play games, such as ‘Girls, Boys, Fruits and Flowers’. Most of the time, whenever they chatted and laughed, it would cross none of their minds that they would be doing the same thing years into the future whenever they would meet.

They even exchanged books as the teacher dictated notes, and at the end of the term when they had to study for the exam, none would have a clue about the things that were written in the notes. They failed together, they succeeded together, and now in the present, they were always there for each other.

Miranda:

Miranda
remembered about the mornings when she would get into the bus that would take her to school. She hated taking the bus because of all the weird co-passengers. The perverts, the grumpy old men and women, the sweaty armpits and the nauseous odors….and what not!

She hated falling face-first into the nearest hairy armpit whenever the driver would apply the brakes. She hated being thrown all over the place.

Not the ideal way to start the morning, especially in your clean white uniform. It used to be a traumatic experience. It should be called the ‘ride to hell’, she thought grimly. On top of that, the innumerable stops where the bus would stop, and just when she was trying her best not to be late for school.

Getting off the bus would be a new adventure in itself. It was because no one
would move, or give way. There was a sense of urgency, a sense of competition. One had to simply bulldozer one’s way out of the bus, and then just as you were putting your last foot down, the bus driver would start the bus. It used be a situation of chaos leading to stagnation. What a paradox!

She used to
walk the short distance from the bus halt to the school, rushing to make it through the gates on time. On time for the start bell? Nay, never!!! On time to play. That’s what she looked forward to. Her clean uniform was forgotten, as her school bag was thrown on the chair and she ran out to join the other girls. There used to be hardly any room on the playground, with everyone running around, screaming, but that was ok, you made your own space, you pushed people around.

By the time the morning bell rang in school, and everyone had to stand in a row for prayers, Miranda was sweaty and dirty.

The Anglicans who met together at a small corner of the playground for prayers every morning were a tiny group indeed. She and Anusha, being in the same group, would join the ten or more other girls for singing and prayers. Even then, it would be all fun and games, not exactly the reverend manner in which it was supposed to be.

Prayers done, they would all move towards the general assembly, or in fact the torture time, where the teachers and principal of the school would have the pleasure of keeping the already
tired and sweaty students under the blazing sun, while they talked incessantly about things that the girls never listened to, leave apart understanding. The only time they would pay attention would be when one of the students would deliver a speech.

It was a customary happening. One day of the week someone would give a speech in Sinhala, their native language, and on another day, it would be in English. Of course, there were only a handful of girls who could actually give a speech in English, so it happened that whenever someone had to be chosen for it, the girls who knew English would have veritable nightmares and breathe a sigh of relief only when someone else would be chosen.

After the principal would finish talking a lot about whatever she had to, the students would herd back into their classrooms. Yes indeed, exhausted and sweaty, standing in the sun for hours, and now they were expected to get right back to their studies!

Miranda thought about the sports meet She would always have mixed feelings for the event. While she and Anusha were in the same ‘House’, Sharon happened to be in a different one. A few skirmishes between them were inevitable during this time.

“Ah! Sports meet time again.” Miranda announced to the other two girls. Yes indeed, this was the only rare occasion when some sort of rivalry was seen between the three friends.

School was a jolly good thing, as far as Miranda was concerned. She was an average student, as were her two best buddies, and she was happy with it, never the competitive one, but one who loved challenges nevertheless. She was interested in music, in literature, in the English language. She didn’t particularly favour the lessons that were taught in the mother tongue that she and most of the other Burgher girls in school found hard to comprehend. It was not the regular banter among friends, but the tedious words, poems and phrases that were part and parcel of their studies.

The classroom girls were members of different cliques, as is always the case. There were the brainy ones, some a little too snobbish, others much more lovable. Then there were the sporty ones, the girls who always took part in athletics or netball or whatever was the sport being played at the time. Her friend Sharon was one of them, being part of the netball team.

Then there were the ones who were good in English, her own clique. They did the English dramas, and speeches and took home most of the awards on English Day held at the school.

It was not that she disliked any of the other cliques or girls in the class, on the contrary she liked them all, each one an individual in her own right, but she was more comfortable with the English lot, as she would be easily able to comprehend the talks.

After school Miranda would catch the bus back home, unless she had to stay after school for either sports or drama practices. Most days it was business as usual, and in old times there used to be no tuitions or extra classes.

Miranda was an outspoken girl right from her younger years. Outspoken, and yet, very quiet about her own frustration or pain. If she did not like someone, she would be the first to speak out, never the diplomatic one, and yet through all their differences they had stuck on together, over the years, sometimes even without having any contact at all, and yet managed to simply catch up with each other as if they had only bid goodbye the other day.

Anusha:

Anusha was a very secretive character. Though she was outspoken, she laughed, she joked, she joined the others in their discussions, yet to their present day, none of them knew her real story, not that they really cared about her past, but certainly it was striking that they hardly knew anything about her.

She was the only child to her parents. She hardly mentioned about them except for occasional vague stories about them, which in fact, no one could understand if they were true or not.

She had a reason for keeping her life’s story a secret, and that was because of the fear of not being accepted, of not being similar to her friends. While her friends boasted of families, parents and siblings, all she had to boast of were the elderly couple who had taken her over as their own. Although she knew her real parents, people who had built an entirely new life for themselves sans her, she did have vague memories of a very early childhood, of a place she knew well from her dreams but would never recognize in real life.