The Fortnight Teller

“If opportunity doesn’t knock, build a door” – Milton Berle.

I heard this catchphrase somewhere, long time back, maybe in some books or in the newspaper columns. I actually didn’t remember. That night it rained too. Everyone say that a good weather is needed to weave a perfect piece of story. I never believed. It’s just a peaceful soul- all you need, to pen down your creations. I was in the middle of my novel, struggling, growling, almost cursing the entire world, but still couldn’t find a better plot for my story. I have this bad habit of malediction since my school days. No wonder that my cup of coffee nearly reached to end and I cooed “Coffee please, hon! ” then, a pause, such a long pause that I could hear the sounds of the drops of water being wasted at my washroom. I think I had been too busy then past three hours to get accustomed with my daily life. I got emotionally drowned with my novel. I was, in some other galaxy.

Rishi, my fiancée, had been to Calcutta for a company’s brand promotion, and this remembrance got me struck like a bomb in Kashmir. Well, I was the only one in the house to prepare the coffee for me that night, it literally pinched me up. But the truth is always bitter. Nevertheless, his coffee tastes better than mine. He’s a much caring lad and always prepares nothing but that magical Espresso for me. I was totally into him for this magic. Anyhow, I left my thoughts along with my laptop back to my bedroom and departed for the kitchen. The clattering sounds and the smell of the marshy land, always pulls me towards them. I watched out from the kitchen window and saw nothing but everywhere showered with rain. The street dogs, almost wet, standing at my house shed and barking. They were experiencing this immense weather, I guessed. Oh, that damn smell of wetness!

Rishi and I were in live-in that time. He was well established with his work and I, being a double-direction minded person, was maintaining with both my corporate as well as my author mode. We had been together since our college days, and fortunately were in Bangalore since the first day of our respective jobs. This city has many more secrets and bonding which I could never make it out till date. Bewildering how insane this world used to become when the rain touches the soil, my eyes opened with a complete story plot. Just then, I could hear the ring-tone of my phone. Someone was calling me. I rushed towards my bedroom with the hot cup of coffee in my hand. An unknown number it was. Usually I didn’t use to pick these calls up. I searched for the user name in the Truecaller. Guess who, my ex – it showed me the search result. Momentarily, I was screwed up and decided to give him some really black and blues. I received another call from him.

“Hey, Deblina! I know you’re good, just need to deliver a news. Guess what, there’s an open mic session in your city tomorrow from sharp 6 pm. I got this now only. So I want if you can take part in this scenario”, my ex’s voice came as an opportunity.

“By the way, how’s Rishi? Good going na?”

I remained silent. “Okay then, I need to hung up. Please do ping me up once, if you get interested in my news! Bye!”

Yes, off-course I was damn interested. All that I could feel then was a pretty nervousness. I was not even ready with my script and 15 hours was all that was there in my hand. That day I realized somehow opportunities always knock at the wrong times. It always does when I’m not ready.

Giving it a second thought, I decided to grab that opportunity. I hurriedly unblocked my ex in the Whatsapp and knocked him with the message of my confirmation. I asked all the application details of the open mic session and was ready to pen down my story plot. Till then, my coffee was already in the cold state.

Every talented storytellers were already present inside the hall. I was the last one to enter. With my nervousness as a partner, I’ve never reached places on time. As I arrived, I could encounter the fair amount of cacophony of the audience there. Amidst the smell of the Cappuccino, I felt the aura of success everywhere. As if, all my nervousness vanished for a moment. Since childhood, I was little shy in front of any big audience, like a small bird being caged for years, shying to fly high. I took my seat in a corner, among those alluring audience. The show commenced finally with fifteen well-nurtured laureates. I was sixteenth- an ambitious, ambivert, acute, engineer, shy writer. I wasn’t among those narcissist fellows been present that day. But I was extremely satisfied with my life, for getting a chance to hear such beautifully weaved tales. I wished Rishi could have make it out that day. He’s a well talented poetry teller and has keen interests in arts. But somehow we all roll up and follow the flows of the world.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for our last participant today. She’s one of the talented laureate present among us. Please welcome, Deblina Chakraborty!” the anchor announced with that usual smiling face.

“Oops! It’s me now” I frowned. I can taste my heart inside my mouth. I started controlling myself and walked towards the podium. Each step towards the stage was a memory for me. Had not been a nightmare, but it was still a nightmare. Finally I found myself in front of that big audience, who were keenly waiting to hear my creation. I was not getting a good hold of my words, my heart was fast-paced and my eyes fixed. Breaking my silence, I started “Good evening to one and all present today. Thank you all for stepping in.”

I used to fell down, then hold a support, and again stand all through my life. But that time I decided to win, so I geared up.

“The serenity was quiet, peace-prevailing. The Bulbul from within the wall-clock, was making me understand the dark hour. The cold breeze was gently kissing the hair strands,making it messy. A single ray of “the natural satellite of Earth”, had dominated the entire forces of darkness. That night was one of my favorites. I knew I was not secluded. I knew I had my forlorn partner. I knew, that, the rain would wash away all my laments,one day.

While the monsoon was on its way down, I was just in a perfect hibernation, trying to figure out what’s went wrong. That grinning face is, somewhere, slowly diverging my hollow state, forcing me to avoid the perpetual darkness above me. Questioning, was the need of the hour.

“Am I again, the only one,crying,seeking for help,loving,to be loved in the dark?” I queried myself.

Every reasoning remained unanswered, right from my childhood. That time, too, came a null output. I was sure about it. I was exhausted, I needed sleep,a complete sleep… but somewhere a positive force was oppositely acting. Well, that was the Savior for me, while a simple and natural element,the Moon,for the night-owls.

The agony within me was continuously saying “Take the pills out from that cupboard,you idiot, and sleep well till the entire death”.

Yes, negative forces won that time ! I was in a lucid dream,recollecting the memories of my Mamma,my Baba,my petite sister having slept with her doll, and my childhood era. The weapon to heaven, meanwhile got stuck up into my palms.

I was staring at that dominant smiling face. That face, which knew no tsunami,no floods,no mourning!

A cloudless happy look was laughing at my melancholy. My face was gradually turning into red, trying to burst out the cyclone inside.

“Do you know the meaning of tragedy?” I questioned her in a grief voice.

The giggling sound becomes doubled, converting it, to a pack of mockery!

The blood rushing miserably down my veins, wanting for the complete demise.

“No,not this time !” I decided. I couldn’t apologize. I wouldn’t let my brain boots and my heart beats, just for the sake of the aunt next door, for the brother whom I never had catch a glimpse of, for the beggar over the street, for that gol-gappa wala who used to adore me right from my juvenescence, for that endearing guy, residing next building who is and will always outrageously flirt with me. “I will not”.

Every hour. Every minute. Every second. The demise is patiently and anxiously waiting for my departure from this secluded nothingness. The pills whispering “Eat me up”.

To my stupefaction, I heard a whisper! Someone was trying to say something. Someone was still existing within that nothingness. Someone was, my deep peer. No wonder it was that “smiling face’’ whom I met some few ticks of the clock before.

“Have you had a flashback of the first lady of your life?”, she mourned.

“Who?”, I anxiously questioned.

“Your mother”, came a reply.

At a jerk, the pills fell down. “Am I selfish to such extent? Oh Lord! How could I even think to forget this woman?” I regretted.

“She is the “One Man Army” in your life. She lets you come to this beautiful world. She was only, the one, who went against her whole family, in sake of letting you see how sun shines, how birds find their independence, how people move, how beautiful the world looks like, how you resembles your father!”, came streaming from that smiling face.

Female foeticide was India’s “ticking bomb”, ruling the whole country. I was perhaps, destined to take homage on this earth! I was saved, being a female fetus. My salvator was, the girl fetus carrier, herself! My mother.

Tears rushing down my cornea. I couldn’t able to stop myself shrieking! My mother would have been a loser after this major loss. I mourned. I cried. I screamed at the very thought of it.

“BETI BACHAO! BETI PARAO!”, we all used to hold the banners and scream at our best voices. But living in this bona-fide “male dominated” society, influencing those “gawar” predated nominal intellects, from their denial of the birth of a girl child is indeed a tenacious job.

“You are lucky”, said a supporting voice.

“You are rewarded with a house full of family.”

“Look at me,carefully. Folks say that I’m beautiful. I may be. But the new moon night leaves an irony : cursing,blaming and questioning about my beauty. A single flaw can deplete the major truths!”

“But…”, I anxiously interrogated.

“I love this Earth truly, since the first day of my fabrication. I have been given the name of the “natural satellite” of Earth. I’m the nearest celestial object. I cast a mild ray of hope over this living planet. I have none to call “mine”. But I love to grin, every time I gaze at my Love.”

“Don’t you feel lonely from inside?”, I murmured.

She smiled. Reply was none.

VOICE FROM THE PAST

“The day when you failed to pass in one subject at your pre-boards, and were humiliated amidst the whole classroom, do you still lament for this incident? That two years back episode when he deliberately left you, for no reason. You cried,too, for no reason. You regret for it now, I’m sure. But are you sad for the useless loss? You gotta family, a loving sister, a protecting father. Have a flashback of your Love! That person who inspires you at each single day, with whom the “golden days”, you call, had passed, who loves you unconditionally, who used to reconstruct you into a sunflower every-time you turn to ashes! That’s enough for the one to spend the whole mortality with. I think.”

I have been unforeseen by the entire conversation.

I really loved him. He was with me. He came as the greatest gift from the Almighty.

“You are loved, li’ll girl. You are surrounded by the unseen happiness! You have the Love of your life,beside you.”

I was turning joyous, jubilant. Blood started getting oxygen. I came up lively,more,now. My stomach was aching for a warm hug of his. Ears were suffering from the missing lullaby of my mother. “Let the Death,only, suppresses you. Let yourself die naturally”, God had whispered to me,that night.

The dawn has always witnessed the pure souls that are in want of Life.

Was it a mere dream? Was the Moon,in disguise of The God? Was I,ruthlessly trying to kill myself?

The history did repeat itself. Came a null output as usual !

“TRING…TRING…”

“Hello!”

That one voice melted the huge Mt.Everest down. I loved him. I knew he too. It might be the first time I got one of my questions, answered ! Misunderstanding, was the answer.

I glanced at the blazing red-hot object, up the hemisphere. It’s nano- light years away from us, from me. Still I can feel the heat, the positiveness, the need of living, the need of being loved.

“I love you!”, he whispered.

… And I smiled! ”, I successfully ended up.

I wasn’t guilty of texting my ex again. I was high in hopes to make Rishi proud of me. He’s my life-guide, always wants me to establish, to fly, to remain happy and to prosper. He was ambitious from the day we met. There was something between us, beyond this Love!

“Thank You!” I wrote to my ex and again press the key to ‘Block user’.

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