The winter night had already muffled any sign of civilization. The wind howled through the empty streets. The street lights seemed to shudder in the cold. The moon and her army of stars kept a wary vigil over the numb city. A sole dry leaf kept circling in the gust.
Raj stood staring down at the road from his window. He didn't seem to notice the beautiful picture the night was painting. He was lost in his own thoughts.
He had a story to tell.
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In the morning when I had last visited the hills I hadn’t taken much note of the road or the town, as the bliss of riding a bike with the breeze striking your face is distracting. But now the surroundings looked more impressive. Though the street was devoid of cars, I jogged along the footpath. There were big trees planted at regular intervals on the footpath. The street was well maintained with strategically placed dustbins. Nearly all the houses had beautiful gardens. Beautiful flowers, some known, some unknown adorned the flowerbeds of the gardens. Every flower now looked golden because of the setting sun. Some houses also had small garages.
Soon I reached the bridge. I stopped jogging and leaned on the rope railing as the wooden planks underneath my feet creaked. Everything was much clearer than it seemed last night. The river, which originated from the snow-capped mountains, flowed below. The bridge hung over the ravine between the town and the hill, cut out by the river. One side of the bridge looked upon the valley, which looked much nearer now (I wondered why). The waterfall could be seen more clearly from here.
I suddenly noticed that the sun had set and the stars were now quite bright. And so was the moon, shining above. The moonlight fell on the waterfall and made it look very mystic. I stood there enjoying the pleasing music around. The soft gurgling of the river beneath was a contrast to the faint roar of the faraway waterfall. The stars also looked enchanted by the soft melodious atmosphere.
In a little while I was again jogging towards the hill. The school came in view in a very short time. The silvery light of the moon had lightened up the school in a silvery paint. It looked beautiful! I jogged up further till the meadow came in sight. The grassy field now looked very different. It now had its own charm!
The hills all around looked pleasant. The faraway mountains were not visible anymore. It had mingled with the dark, deep-blue night sky. The darkness had crept over the valley and it looked soothing. The lake beneath was reflecting the moon. The moon glistened along with the stars in the middle of the lake; while on the other side of the valley the swift-flowing river frantically mirrored it. It looked as though a colossal diamond was shining and a river of pearls was flowing across a greenish heaven.
I sat on the grass in the open. The earth was breathing heavily, hot with fatigue, whilst the wind tried to cool it down. The oak tree looked like a tree of precious gems as the moonlight reflected off the leaves, watered by the evening dew.
I laid flat on my back looking up at the sky. Numerous stars, blinking down at me, studded the sky. The moon was right at the middle of the sky in between the twinkling stars. Faint white strokes of the Milky Way also streaked the sky. I tried to join the stars and weave them into artistic patterns and shapes. After I failed many times, I tried to amuse myself by finding earthly shapes in the white strokes. It felt foolish but as long as no one came there, it was fun!
Raj sat looking out of the window. The trees and fields ran past in a hurry. The tracks slithered along below. The warm breeze struck him on his face, tousling up his hair. The heat and the noise inside the carriage were suffocating. Some college guys were discussing the recent defeat of
"Get out of the class," yelled Mr. Raha, his eyes glowing like those of a nocturnal rodent. Raj looked back at him not knowing how he should react. Should he plead, should he do as his teacher suggests or should he just say, "Go to hell" and walk out? "I say, get out," repeated Mr. Raha, ferociously. Trying to pretend to be sorry, Raj slowly trudged out of the class. Last night he had returned home late from tuition and as a result was not able to complete his homework. And this grave sin had blown his mathematics sir's fuse. When he had tried to persuade his mother to discontinue his tuition, his mother had replied, "Don't try to escape your studies, Raj. You won't study if you don't take tuitions. In class 10 you have to take tuitions..." Next day he had his Chemistry tuition where he had an exam of which he knew nothing. Looking out at the school field, Raj felt that familiar feeling of despair.
The train stopped at an unknown station. People began pushing each other trying to get off before the person in front stepped onto the platform. An equal number of people were trying to get onto the train. Some unlucky guys, caught in the hustle, were trying their best to stay on the train and also to stay alive. Raj looked at them impassively. Whenever he had tried to reason why people act so inhumanly at times, he had failed to find an answer. That’s why he had given up burdening his head anymore. He no longer cared.
Raj stopped walking. A group of
Raj ran his fingers on the still new bruises on his lips. The train had become more crowded. The stinking smell of fish, the howls of infants and the rustic conversations between the commuters had become more pronounced. But it still had no effect on Raj. He was lost in his own world, in his own cage.
Raj slowly and with great difficulty was able to push the key into the lock and unlock it. His parents were out of station. He walked unsteadily into his room and fell into his bed, his head swooning. He still felt the pain, but strangely it was more internal than physical. For the first time Raj felt an urge to break free, from what he had no idea. Raj shut his eyes hard as if to block it from any light although the room was dark. A teardrop ran down his cheek.
The bruises had started to bleed again. Raj covered it with his forefinger. The train had again started moving with a jerk. He had no idea where the train was going, and he didn't care to ask anyone. All he wanted was to escape from the cage...
The mist had silently descended down the mountain onto the valley. The mysterious rickety bridge hanging over the torrid stream seemed to lead to nowhere. I stood thinking for a moment. I had no option left. So I decided to take the bridge.
The bridge creaked under my weight as I walked cautiously across the bridge. Looking down, I couldn't see my feet. There was only fog all around. It felt as if I was floating in the air.
Nothing else seemed to exist except me. Even the gurgling of the torrent had died down. Neither did I know how high I was nor did I know where I was headed. I groped around in the mist for the railing but it seemed to have disappeared.
At last I was finally able to reach the other bank.
A chill ran down my spine as I found myself standing alone staring at a solitary cottage stooping over the stream, the water wheel at one side beating the darkness.
The sun was slowly and slowly being hidden behind the distant mountains. I got up from my chair and headed for the balcony adjoining my bedroom. As soon as I opened the balcony-door, the golden evening light burst into the room. I walked up to the railing and rested my elbows on it. The houses were a pleasant golden-yellow colour painted by the dying sun. The breeze carried a promise of rain. Clouds were visible again in the far horizon. Stars were beginning to appear in the evening sky. The moon was also visible but it looked insignificant in the golden sky.
People were walking up and down the road - evening walk. Suddenly a thought struck me. I had nothing to do, so how about a pleasant evening walk!
I ran downstairs, excited. Mother was fidgeting with the newly uncovered sofa. “Mom, can I go for an evening walk?” I asked. “Okay, but come back before dinner-time,” mother answered, without even looking back at me. I ran across the living room and bustled out of our ‘strange’ blue door.
The cool breeze outside welcomed me. I felt rejuvenated. My mood was fine again! I looked up and down the road. Most people were jogging down the road. But my choice was a little different. I began jogging up the road towards the ‘familiar’ hills.
The moment I entered the classroom I had a feeling that the experience would be memorable. Looking around the class, I saw a crowd of fifteen nine-year old children creating a ruckus. Running kids, jumping kids, flying paper planes – I knew this wasn’t going to be an easy job.
All this started a few days back when our moral science teacher assigned us social science projects. I got the one I dreaded the most – teaching mathematics to a junior class for one day! I had never liked babysitting. Last time when I babysat our neighbor’s child, the kid succeeded in putting my pants on fire! From that day I made it a point to stay out of sight of that evil kid and pledged to never babysit again. Unfortunately, I was forced to break my oath.
Man, this is going to be real tough, I thought as I stared in bewilderment at the feral third-graders. I decided acting tough would do the trick for me. So, mimicking our mathematics teacher, I knocked at the door with my duster and barged in. The kids suddenly stopped whatever they were doing and swung their heads towards me.
As fifteen pairs of keen eyes stared at me, I stood behind the teacher’s desk shuffling my options. Thinking of giving an introduction wouldn’t be a bad idea, I boomed, “I am here to teach you mathematics. I don’t want any disturbance and I won’t tolerate any indiscipline; and I mean none.” Surprisingly, the children quickly rearranged among themselves and were soon sitting at their desks. That wasn’t bad, I thought, pleased with myself.
It was all going smoothly and I had been able to finish two chapters peacefully. The students were being very co-operative too as most were dozing quietly in their places with their heads down, and some were gazing up at the ceiling thinking, perhaps about Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse. I smiled to myself – at last my plan had succeeded. But trouble began when I turned around to write a sum on the blackboard.
Suddenly I felt a wet thing strike the nape of my neck. I ran my hand over my neck to find a wet paper ball stuck to it. After thinking for a moment and figuring out my next step, I swung around to see the whole class giggling away. “QUIET!” I shouted, banging my duster on the table, scaring myself in the process. “Who did this? I asked, WHO DID THIS?” I glared ferociously around looking for an answer. “If I don’t get an answer in one minute I am going to punish the whole class; and I mean it!” I threatened.
The giggling had died away and the kids looked tensed. At last I will have the last laugh, I thought revengefully. Waiting for about one minute, I went on with my grand plan. “Stand up on your benches. All of you. NOW!” I yelled. The monkeys slowly climbed up obediently onto their chairs. “Now hold your ears.” They obliged without a word. I feasted my eyes upon my masterpiece. That’s how a teacher should be. I am just great!
Just like the whistle of a train approaching from the horizon, I heard a strange humming noise, which slowly seemed to become louder and louder. Without any warning, the faces of the kids started distorting and within a few seconds an orchestrated crying concert commenced. I stood there rooted to the ground gaping at my crumbling magnum opus.
After that incident, I was so shaken up that I wasn’t even able to go to school for one straight week. I got a D in my project but it had no effect on me as I was still recovering from my numbing experience.
As I flung the window open, sun rays invaded the room accompanied by a cool breeze driving the mustiness out of the room. I took a deep breath and leaned on the window sill, looking out.
The wet leaves of the trees lining the muddy road to the outhouse reflected the sunlight giving the trees a golden glint.
The battle was over. The faraway hills, like a victorious army, basked in the glory of the sun. The towering mountains had slowly begun to emerge from their dark caves. White clouds floated across the sky like spirits. The breeze flowing over the meadows seemed to soothe the wounded soldiers.
I smiled to myself, not knowing why. I just felt happy.
It was
“Nope.”
“Well, I am sure you will make one tomorrow. And one more thing, we have been invited for dinner by our neighbours tomorrow night. You don’t want to come, do you?”
“No.” I hated parties. That is why my parents used to keep me at home to ‘look after the house’ when they were out to a party.
“So, you look after the house and try behaving yourself from now on because I don’t want to see any mess when I return home.”
“But I didn’t behave badly today and I am never messy,” I protested.
“No, I was just warnin…I was just telling you beforehand,” replied mother. I could have started an argument, but I controlled myself and ran upstairs to my room.
My room possessed a bed, a folding mirror and many unpacked boxes. I walked up to the mirror, unfolded it and looked at my reflection. The same familiar face with his wavy hair scowled back at me. The mirror had three panes – one middle pane, which I considered as my ‘good and bad self, mixed’; one left pane - my ‘bad self’; and one right pane - my ‘good self’. I liked to talk to my reflections, taking turns to talk as my reflections and myself. I sure was lonely!
My left pane-reflection said, “Again behaving badly, huh? You will never learn, will you?”
“Hey, I didn’t behave badly today! I didn’t even stay in the house for more than an hour today! Then how can I ‘behave badly’?”
“But you sure are messy, aren’t you? Now don’t lie. I know everything. Don’t you remember? Weren’t you messy when you broke that beautiful glass painting? When you took your bat, which you thought was your magical sword, and, like He-man, smashed the glass, like you were cracking the ugly head of Skeletor, wasn’t that messy? Weren’t you messy when you dropped the glass chandelier, when you tried to help out mother in arranging the living room yesterday? And didn’t mother shriek at you? Tell me, tell me!”
“But I was still a baby when I broke that glass painting and…”
“And you will always be a BABY!!”
“No, I am not a baby. Shut up!”
“No, I won’t.”
And the never-ending battle started again. Soon I was enraged and was tempted to smash the mirror with my bare hands, the temptation that had always crept inside me whenever I was in a heated debate with the man in the mirror (rather boy in the mirror). But I did not succumb to my temptation and held myself back, as usual. I had spoiled my own mood. I looked away from the mirror to my room.
My room was all in a mess; I was to arrange it that day. I looked at the clock. It was
I settled down, tired, in my rocking chair by the window. Rocking gently, I looked out through the window. The sun was about to set. The pyre of the dying sun had reddened the evening sky. The horizon was painted in many bright colours. The sun was orange-coloured and looked rounder and larger than it had when it was directly overhead in the afternoon. The road, which meandered in and out of the cottages, got lost in the horizon. I rocked on the chair looking blankly and unblinkingly at the far horizon. A flock of birds flew towards the sun in the quest of glory.
I cycled up the road to the hill. The road was unpaved and lined on both sides by grass, which danced with the wind blown by my revolving cycle tires. A big school was situated near the edge of the hill. Its big, brown, wooden gate was locked with a large, rusty lock. The school was so big that it looked like a palace, with a big field and a majestic oak tree in the middle. That was all I was able to see by peeping in through the gap between the gates. This was where I was going to study after the summer holidays.
I cycled past the school where the road slowly disappeared into a sea of grass. I found myself in the middle of a huge meadow. Cycling was tiring and the scorching sun made the conditions worse. I looked around for shade. The hill rose up but the slope was gradual, which gave the meadow a flat field like appearance. I was surrounded all around by grass. A line of coniferous forests marked the far horizon of the hill. There were two-three pines growing in the open far away. Only one tree was near me - a stout, shady oak tree. So I pedaled towards the tree, laid my bicycle on the grass and stretched myself under the tree.
The morning sun and its rays were ruling the sky overhead. Not a cloud was in sight though it was cloudy last night. Some eagles dotted the bright blue sky, flying in circles. It was a breezy day. The leaves of the tree rustled in the breeze. The green grass, covering the rest of the hill with some blooming asters here and there lost in the grass, moved along with the wind like calm waves in a calm sea. The hill lingered with the smell of sunshine.
The surrounding hills formed a beautiful scenery. They were also covered with a coat of green grass dotted with small patches of woods hither and thither. Some parts had huge farms and small villages could be seen lining them. The farms gave a checkered appearance to the hills. Spruces masked the summits. Far away a high mountain range could be seen which I hadn’t noticed last night. The sunlight fell on it and made the snow-capped peaks flash now and then like fire.
Down below I could see the dark valley covered with coniferous and deciduous trees. A small lake could also be seen in the heart of the valley. Along one edge of the valley flowed the river, which originated from one of the nearby hills and flowed down its slope as a lovely waterfall. The other end was lost in the foliage. How beautiful it all was!
I lay there looking blankly up at the endless sky reigned over by the sun. I was tired. I didn’t realise when I fell asleep.
I was woken up by a bird, singing, hidden between the leaves of the tree above me. I was unaware of the time, as I had forgotten to bring my watch. But the position of the sun told me that it was nearly
