Grandparents' tales - II

I don't remember much of this story however I will try to recall as best as I can while I write! This is one of the stories told by my cousin's grandma and I thought I will include this as well. I was staying at their place in Guwahati and I remember how one afternoon me and my cousin sat listening to this story.

As with the case of most old people of my childhood days and specially when it is in Shillong or Guwahati, the old ladies and gentlemen would go flower stealing. Now what is flower stealing? Well our granparents are/were people who believe in pujas and part of our daily pooja even today means offering flowers to the Gods and Goddesses in pooja alter of our homes. And when there weren't many flowers available in our own homes, they would wake up early in the mornings and get flowers from the neighbours' houses. And since it would be early mornings before most people woke up, they would carry a stick or an umbrella to chase away the street dogs. Now this stick or long umbrella would serve two purpose, one chasing the dogs and two reaching for the distant branches which held the best flowers.

On one such morning, my cousin's grnadma as she claimed lost her away in the near darkness. Every turn she took seemed to take her to a dead end and she had no clue how to get to her home. It continued for a while and she told us that she was possessed by a ghost. She eventually managed to get back home and I will disappoint the readers when I tell that I don't remember if she had done anything special to get out of that spell!

Send her Home

How can I not write about it? It's been years but this incident brings me smiles even today. However as I am writing this now, it makes me a bit sad too because the person in question has gone home literally. She has left this wordly home and gone for ever, to her celestial home.

Well, 'Send her Home' is a phrase one of our teachers PD coined and we used to laugh uncontrollably when we talked about it. It use to so happen that after we finished school each day, we would spend 10-15 minutes at every turn when we said bye to a friend. Our school used to be at walking distance from our homes and we would stop at the turn of each by-lane. Now, PD's cousin lived in the house just next to my friend's and he would visit her often. And he would notice each evening that we had endless stories and so one day as we waited at the turn and continued with our gossip, he said 'Send her home'. And our friend had started blushing since we started teasing her saying that he wants you to be at her home and not gossiping on streets. Now I know I am not able to bring the humor nor can I justify what was so funny in it but even today the scene comes flashing before my eyes with all the clarity and preciseness. We talked about this at our homes, when we met, in our school and wherever we met.

Thinking about this today makes me wonder about human life, to think that she is no more and then we had shared such happy times. I don't even know where PD is and probably he would not remember us as well.
Talking about PD and my friend, I also remember that he had once asked my friend to take his copy and give it to his cousin. That copy or diary was usually referred by him as the 'red book' and it was used to jot down the defaulter's names, people who didn't behave in class well. We could be potential defaulters in his case  and even though my overall track record was very good somehow I never took him seriously. So, me and another friend accompanied her just to deliver that diary as though she was not capable of doing it alone. And on the way, we opened it from the polythene bag tied with a rubber band, ensuring we didn't break the band and then checked the 'red book' to see if there was indeed any defaulter's list. And all the while we made several variation of potential 'Send her Home' stories. There was none to our relief but 'Send her home' laughing syndrome remained with us for a long long time!

Grandma/Grandpa's tales - 1

Oh, how I wish I could remember all the stories we got to hear from our grandparents when we were kids. I remember these in bits and pieces now. Ofcourse grandpa would narrate the Ramayana and the Mahabharata and tell us tales from there and I would ask questions he would perhaps be embarrased to answer. I realize this years later, on how he changed the topic or answered something vague so as to divert me from the original question or at least convince me with the answer! Once I had asked him if it was possible to have children without getting married in the middle of some story from the Mahabharata!

Grandma's stories would be woven around her domestic chores. She would tell me often how she got married early and picked up tasks from her mother-in-law.

There is one major difference which I remember and will always remember is how they each treated 'fear'or the 'unknown' factor. When I was very young, very very young, I remember that the lights had gone off one evening and me and my brother sat with our grandpa waiting for our parents to return from work. I somehow said that I was scared of the dark and then what grandpa said has stood with me since then. He said 'fear' is what is in your mind, the so-called ghosts are your servants and when God resides in your heart, there is nothing to fear.

Contrary to this, my grandma asked me once (and I was much older then) if we were not scared when the old lady who lived as a tenant in our house had passed away! I didn't understand the question then and said 'but why'. She then told me how the soul remains in and around and she kind of introduced the concept of 'ghosts' in a closer way. No, it didn't scare me as I always stuck to what granpa had said about God being in your heart protecting you!

The Sunset

I see the beautiful yellow sky that touches the window,
Making the yellow lights fall on the floor
I can almost feel that I am touching the sky
I can almost feel that the light falling on me
I can almost feel like I am flying
I can almost feel like a friend on the other end of the horizon
Looking at the curtain of this yellow light, blinded by the glow
I can almost see the hand reaching me
I can almost see the smiling face in the clouds there
When this curtain falls, will I still be looking
Will I still be searching for the face in the clouds?
Or with the fainting light, will the smile merge in me?
That's the end of yet another day almost
That's the beginning of another hope, to see the face
And to read the smile and hear the sing that rings somewhere in the distant plane?

At Kotla

Another experience at the stadium and yes we are talking cricket! And this time it was the Feroz Shah Kotla stadium. On a hot summer day, we went out to watch the Aus-India match and though there was no great game played, it was fun all the same! Fun because I started with supporting Australia, wore an Australian cricket hat and my friend outplayed me by wearing a green and gold Australian t-shirt! It was also fun because I won a bet, the bet being Sachin's century and I somehow knew it was not happening!  It was also fun when Dhoni got out and we clapped and the people around stared at us. Probably they thought we didn't understand cricket and was there for the fun of it. My friends teased me that I would get bashed for wearing an Aussie hat and cheering for Australia. But normal is boring you see and I am no fan of this current Indian team.


But all the same it was a treat to watch Sachin's entry, the crowd going mad and proving that he is India's favourite even when he's on the verge of his retirement.


I wish they had allowed a camera to capture more of these moments!!! I am definitely happy that I got an opportunity to be there and yes dear Universe thank you!!!

Dreams and Faces

I held on to that dream a little longer today
And I saw a face from the past
Somewhat known, somewhat unknown, some common connect
And there was this familiar talk, there was a bond to happen...when morning happened....


The next time I dream, I wish I hold on to it a little longer
To see that face, to read those eyes!!!

When I will be gone

Somedays I think it will be it will be
Somedays I think the end will be near
Somedays that brings me a tear
Why o why should I grieve my own loss
Is it an unfulfilled dream or is it a false belief that I will be missed?