I alighted and after paying off Vasu headed for our ancestral home. I was overwhelmed by the pompous reception I received from my cousins and other relatives. Delicious lunch was lined up for me. Relatives squared up to have a glimpse of me, to hear about everyone back home. 
seemed to fade out and I slipped out of the house under the pretext of taking a bath. I walked along the mud road, had a view of the overflowing river and the temple ruins, and took a shortcut along the fields to Appu’s house. I walked straight into the backyard of Appu’s house, my eyes searching for him. There he was…..my dearest friend Appu, but not in his usual bubbly self overflowing with enthusiasm. 
He was eerily silent, lying still inside a large mound of mud with a few flowers by where his head was supposed to be. My dearest friend Appu, buried there. My feet suddenly gave away and I embraced the mound, letting out a loud wail, tears swelling in my eyes. The news of his death last year, when I was in my final year of engineering, had come as a big shock and hit me hard. 
embarkment of an eternal journey. I could not stop crying for the months to follow at the thought of loosing my dearest friend. But gradually, I began to feel that an angel form heaven was always by my side, ushering me to go and get everything under the sky with that usual stammered call of his, “Ssss…..andu, Go, Get it !!”. I placed the new year card by his side, looked up towards the sky, as I knew that Appu was up there, and whispered to the winds, “HAPPY NEW YEAR,APPU. I REALLY MISS U DA!!”
The smell of coffee fills the air. She is talking to 2 friends, making one the butt of her jokes. She dressed up well today and for a change, she actually looks darn pretty. Pretty enough to sway him off his feet, she hopes.
He walks in. He looks darn good. She is swept off her feet. Actually, she just missed a heartbeat. If someone looked real close, they would see the blush in her smile. He looks at her and she knows that she knew all along that he liked her… or may be not.
“Looking sexy handsome” – her friend, who is also his friend
“They are making me walk the ramp.” It’s the office fest.
She laughs, amused by the idea. She is after all, before everything else, his friend.
He ignores her amusement, completely engrossed in his worry.
“I was supposed to walk the ramp with a chick. She bailed out.”
“The chick ditched you. Hee Hee” The butt of all jokes attempts a target
Target fails.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find you someone” - The common friend.
“I hope so. How do I look?” – Her cutie-pie
“You look good.” – 2 voices in unison.
He looks towards her. “Snob, I asked something”
“Your wardrobe is missing a tie” – The Snob
“I have it here. I just don’t know how to put it on”
“I’ll help you”
The moment she adores- being close to him. Hoping he feels the same way about her. She helps him with his tie. She likes his choice of colour – pink.
“There you go”
“Thanks”
A moment of silence and the language of eyes. Or was it the moment of her overtly positive imagination.
The distance ensues. They become aware of 2 other presences in their moment.
No one notices anything, or may be she was the only one who thought there was something.
Appukuttan or Appu, as he was more popularly known, was 10 years older than me but behaved as if he were a 6-7 year old. Since my primary school days he was my soulmate during the summer vacations, remaining with me like a shadow for these 2 months every year. It took me some maturity to learn the fact that Appu was not normal, that he was mentally retarded. But that did not deter me at all. Our bond grew stronger and stronger and stronger with every passing year. I had become used to that familiar stammered call of “Sssss…anndu” ( as Sandu was what he lovingly called me). Tucking up his lungi every now and then was his hallmark. His description is incomplete without the mention of the heavy Gandhian glass he wore. A constant source of worry for his father, a new pair of glasses would not survive more than a week. His father’s novel idea of tying a string around his neck attached to the glasses to prevent them from falling down wasn’t much of a help either. Yes, it did bring some improvement in the survival time of the glasses. Appu was a staunch believer of cleanliness. Just a speck of dust on his glasses, and he would give them a nice wipe with his lungi. In this way he ended cleaning up his glasses nearly 35-40 times a day. So thorough was the wipe he gave them that many a time while cleaning the glasses, the glasses would succeed in finding their way out of the frame that seemed to imprison them.
he next moment I realized that I was laughing my heart out and Vasu, the cart owner was giving me an amusing look. “Saar! Bet you just saw a very nice dream, didn’t you?”. “ No Vasu” , I replied, “Just remembered my good old Krishnapuram days. Those 2 month summer vacations every year when this place was my heavenly abode. By the way, anything new in Krishnapuram? What about the Bhagawathi temple?”. Vasu answered in a sad tone, “That temple’s now in ruins saar. After Unni Namboothiri’s untimely demise 5 years back, the temple has had no caretaker. Even the suspension bridge to the temple is in a very bad state. Every year the politicians pledge to repair the whole thing but do a disappearing act after the elections. Even the public is not interested saar. The world is definitely going to end soon, with the people having no time to spare for their creator. Oh God!! Please forgive. Shiva, Shiva.”
good old Bhagawathi temple on the other side of the swaying suspension bridge, poised on top of a pinnacle like hillock that seemed to soar out of the swirling waters. We would sit there for hours over viewing the beauties of nature. I used to luxuriate there in the gentle pace of unhurried activity engulfed in an enlightening divine feeling. Here, overlooking the land which celebrates the bounty of nature with a riot of vegetation, I relaxed and contemplated the seconds as they ticked by. Sailing with Appu across the Bharatapuzha river which kissed Krishnapuram was like drifting into a mysterious world untouched by time. Our days used to start with a bath in the river, often accompanied by my father. Ever heard of someone taking a tumbler along to the river for a bath? That was me, as I didn’t know to swim and neither did Appu. But that did not deter us from going to the river for a bath. We would set about with a professional swimmer like stature. Villagers would enquire where the Siamese twins (villagers gave us this name) were heading for 
and Appu would give them a prompt reply, “To the river to have a bath. Ssss…andu is too scared to go all alone you see. Moreover he doesn’t know swimming as well.” As if he himself was a born swimmer. The villagers would giggle at his reply and I too couldn’t help giving a faint smile. Once near the river bank we would just go knee deep into the waters as we knew our limitations and then use to exchange turns to use the tumbler, with the river serving as a bucket for us. Appu would often treat me with a soda at Renjith’s store where his father had opened him an account in his name. Appu was a complete movie buff. Sometimes even I would doubt on his mental status when I would hear him delivering dialogues from each and every movie he had seen till date. Appu was my soulmate and I would confide in him everything. He would be really concerned to hear my problems. No one could break our friendship; no one could take us apart.
his along with the excitement of getting back to Krishnapuram, my native place, after a gap of 7 years was pumping adrenaline down my viens. “Namaskaram……Saar!!”, saluted a rather stout looking, dark, lungi clad man heading straight towards me. “Saar…Vandi (Malayalam for vehicle)” , barely had he uttered these words that he had snatched my baggages from my hand and was directing me towards his bullock cart. I followed him blindly like a man in spell. Krishnapuram, a sleepy village in Kerala, was a good 30 kms away from this city and one had to take a path through the forest to reach there. Once I got seated comfortably (not on par with the comfort of motor vehicles), Vasu, the cart owner, gently tapped his buffaloes and we were on our way. The morning breeze along with Vasu’s humming of an old Malayalam song was creating just the right atmosphere for me to relax.
as when, on the outskirts of the town, a swarm of butterflies fluttered across the road to create everchanging patterns of rippling colours. A dramatic welcome like that is a hard act to follow, but Krishnapuram did not disappoint. The jungle was filled with a deafening void and only the occasional twitter of a bird nibbled at its fringes. As I sliced through this quiet on the cart I started to understand the potency of silence; it is the code of the wild, the invisible fabric behind which the predator hunted and the prey hid. Yes…….this was Krishnapuram; my soul, my great escapades after a torrid year of academics in the concrete jungle of Mumbai, year after year after year. How I simply loved to reach here everytime in my vacations, to run along the river banks that skirts this lovely village chasing a host of colourful birds with my dearest friend Appu. Appu……….my fellow adventurer, a total freak.To Isabelle, Grace was everything. She loved her like crazy. It is a natural tendency of every mother to kiss their kids. Isabelle used to kiss Grace at least 50 times in a day. It was 24th November 1938, Grace was crying hard for around 2 hours. Even Mariane could not spot out the reason. The baby girls face was red by now. Isabelle soon rushed to the baby. She unhooked her bra and breast fed the baby. The baby was showing signs of sleep .Isabelle continued feeding the baby. Marianne was on her way to the market to fetch some vegetables and fruits. Captain Frankesten ordered us to clear of the Serbians living in Milan. We soon left for the place."Round uppp!!,'We surrounded the camp where the Serbians lived. Marianne soon hid when she saw us. Her watchful eyes became more watchful .We knocked the door and pulled Jacob, Joseph and we did not even spare the young woman who was feeding the baby. Peter Penki tried kissing Isabelle, as a result of which Jacob got annoyed. Jacob kicked soldier Peter as his hands were firmly held by other officers. Seeing this, Peter took his gun and shot Jacob on the spot in front of his wife and his father.Mariane was hiding behind a large tree whose branches reached the periphery of the tree.Mariane’s eyes started shedding out tears. The sky started weeping too. The other Italians were just standing like spectator. There was no one to support them. I warned everyone to get back and we even dared to shoot them out. Isabelle’s face turns pale of a sudden. The baby was still sucking milk from her mother’s breast. Poor, she knew about her father’s death. Isabelle was stunned. They planned to live happily with Grace. They even thought of Grace’s future. They prayed that once the war gets over, they will return back to Serbia and live there happily. All the hopes were dropped and the dreams were shattered .Joseph could not do much. He shook his head down and Isabelle was in a standstill. Every neuron in her body took a pause.Mariane was watching everything from sidelines. I soon grabbed the baby from Isabelle. The neurons came back to life once again, she soon reacted."Gracea, Gracea!! ", she came running towards me.Peter and Robert shot her dead. Her long hairs took a sharp turn and her bra hooks remained open. She felt down on the ground with her breasts exposed. Joseph was the next on hit list and we shot him down as well.Mariane screamed and came running towards us, but an unfamiliar hand held her firmly from behind. He was Jamin.Jamin was from Belgrade and his entire family was killed by the Italian troops during the war. We soon dumped the body. The baby was still with me. We didn’t had any intention of killing the infant .This all happened on 24th November 1938.Jamin took Mariane away ,Misona soon followed them. She watched everything happened. She was amongst the spectators.Misoni was Mariane's neighbour.She has helped Mariane at times, but this time she was helpless .Mariane was the only surviving member of her family.
We soon left the place which was shed with blood all over. It still moistens my eyes when I think of it. I better prefer to stay away from those core memories. I do believe that Ana must be back, home.Sarah Jenkins was busy reading newspaper. Ana studied the presence of Sarah Aunty and hugged her from behind."Aunty!!!,"she screamed.
She hadn’t had anything to eat last night either. What her mom said had devastated her; and she had lost her appetite. The night was rough as she clung onto her brother and cried. He was the only soul who knew how to lay it to rest. He listened to her more like a friend and would hold her warmly in his arms as she would weep her eyes out. Later she would be light and would beam a smile at him. It would be over as simple as that.
Last night, too, he had listened to her. His face had been calm, not a sign of anything that could have possibly disturbed him. But deep down, he was angry. How could mother have said this to her? “Di, I’ll have a word with mother.”
“No please, don’t”. But the boy had made up his mind. So, the night grew worse as there arose yet another argument. She had given up to her sobs eventually and had fallen asleep.
---
She woke up to her best friend’s call. “Tell me, why do you always send stupid messages?”
“I’m sorry Adi; I just had an argument with mum. I wasn’t okay.” She had sent a frustrating text to him last night, just to show him she was upset and he wasn’t there.
“Okay. So, what’s up? What have you been up to?”
She thought, Geez, I fought with my mom what else? And he thinks I’ll be dancing around after that?
“Nothing much.” Silence.
“Well, talk about something!” Adi said after a pause.
“I don’t know what to talk about.” That was true. All she could think of was her hard moment with her mother. She was half shattered because of it.
“… Okay then, take care… Bye!” It came so suddenly, she didn’t even make out what he had said; she was there in her depressing train of thoughts.
Should I stop him? What shall I talk about? But she soon realized she would be pretending everything’s fine. Why did she have to pretend always? And why to someone who claimed to be her best buddy? She decided otherwise.
“Ya… bye.” She heard the other end click without a word. Rude.
Her lunch was getting cold but she didn’t care anymore. WTF! What do people think of themselves now-a-days? Her brother had asked her last night if it mattered anymore. She had had nothing convincing to say in return. Now, what just happened made her think again.
“Tell me about those countless nights you came crying to me? Where was he? Did he ask you even once if you really were fine?” he had asked her last night.
No. She thought, but she dared not say it… And now this. She was angry. She picked up her phone and started writing a text message to him.
“I don’t need a ‘zabardasti’ ka friend. It’s so clear you don’t need me. I don’t want any friend now. They all change! Even you did!!” She knew what was going to follow. He’d message her back, an angry one, telling her to be off and ending it with a cold, cruel “bye”. But it couldn’t have been helped. A year back they were inseparable. They never fought and were always there for each other. Perfect, perfect friendship. Their friendship started with honest confessions of the past. They clarified their past relationships. Now, Diya was engaged to someone but she was finding it somewhat difficult. She dreamt of her life partner as someone she could feel happy and alive with. The poor guy was very sweet and caring, but then, he wasn’t Adi. Diya thought of it as her betrayal to her fiancé. She had tried sincerely to forget her special moments with Adi but wasn’t successful. She wanted it to be him. But when the engagement thing came along, she knew it will soon change between them. That was something she couldn’t bear. She looked back at the horrible time when she cried on the phone, endlessly, telling him she knew him too well to think it wouldn’t change between them. “No it won’t.”
“I know you… You have always been possessive about me…”
“I’m saying it won’t. Now don’t make it worse!” And she would know it better to shut up. It wasn’t that she liked being a trouble. It was her heart that was fretting and making her worry. Something very precious was going away and she couldn’t do anything about it.
What she had feared happened. He went further away with every passing day with her trying fruitlessly to stop it. Now he was out of reach. The binding love between them had vanished. What she still regarded were the memories of an innocent friendship that they had shared. He had long ago learnt the art of being distant; and it was so perfect, she doubted if it was the same person. Traces of happy times were left in her still. There were nights she lay awake in bed and would eventually cry her heart out, trying to rid herself of the memories. In vain.
The phone buzzed, interrupting her train of thought. It was him. She braced herself.
“You don’t need me, well babe, hold your ground with this. And yea, go get your brain checked up!! You need it badly!! You’re such a waste! Bye!!” Her eyes fixed themselves on his “waste” and “bye”. They were such hard words. She remembered his previous texts that always ended with hugging expressions and a “muah”, a caring “take care!” Ah, gone are those days.
She turned back to her lunch, cold and tasteless now. She tried to eat but started crying bitterly. Of all the people, you mattered so much! I gave so much to this lovely friendship… and it goes down the drain when you call me a “waste”. Loneliness started creeping up on her again as memories from the previous night came back. Adi was such a shield from anything bad that may hurt or harm her. Now him going like that, she felt vulnerable and unprotected. Last night was rough. It had all started when she fell for someone. That was years back. Someone in her family came to know about it and people started taking about every bad thing they could associate with her tender, innocent love. She endured it all but one day she gave up on her tolerance when her mother said she feared she’s suddenly put on weight because of the special pills she took! She was bewildered… she went crazy and mad and out of control!! Can her mother really think like that? About her baby? The girl she raised with so much love, can she really think her baby would cheat on her? She remembered how she had quarreled with her mother for the first time. She had forcefully made her sit and listen, her blood was boiling! And then, after everything, they had broken up, she and him. She got over him quickly because Adi was there. He healed her to her old self. But people didn’t shut up. They still took her for a flirting little tramp, which was the last thing she could have been. Her self confidence was restored a great deal when she and her mother came close again after years of being distant. She was happy and felt protected… until last night; which started as a little disagreement between her mother and herself and ended with her confessions that she still thought of Diya that way. Again she went crazy, half mad… Had she been any weaker she would definitely have committed suicide. She had tried it once; but that had only made her stronger. There came a fit of screaming madness in her, trying to put the world back at its place. For God’s sake! I’m your daughter… How can you say that? I’ve never had anything to do with a guy all these years of my education… it was just him Goddamit!! And it was anything but vile!! Look at me in the eyes and tell me do you really see any sign of mistrust…?? Come on mom look at me in the eye! She suddenly became quiet realizing it was of no use anymore. It is only God who forgives, she thought, humans are not capable of something as divine as that. She locked herself up in her room and silently sobbed. She felt as if she were stone. She had gone numb now. Every feeling of trust and love she had shown to anyone in her life had been thrown back at her face. So they don’t need it. Fine. She lost her composure in front of her brother and she cried in front of him like a child complaining about something to a parent.
Life had been bad with her. All she had were a few internet friends who were kind enough to listen to her. She could share her bad luck with them, but now she didn’t feel like doing it anymore. People felt sorry for her and she didn’t want their pity. She wanted a real friendship that she could dwell in and be stronger. They say you find strength within yourself, she thought as she sipped orange juice. Hell! God knows how bad I take things just ‘cause I don’t know an honest heart to share it with. She had another bite at her sandwich. Her brother had just come home and had given her a warm hug the moment he did. She smiled back. She spotted a little butterfly outside the window with beautiful colors… bright shades that reminds one of life, hope, happiness. She felt better. She remembered life again. Of course, I have my bro; she thought as she felt a twinge of happiness starting to grow within her. And this one shall pass too!
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picture courtesy: deviantART
