The unwanted princess

As the carriage, or tonga, wait it seemed more like a hand pulled rickshaw now. Our village belle completely transformed into a half naked dhoti clad man, as she screamed 'ladies ache, ladies ache' to the the traffic on the road. What was this place as i looked around. Buildings on both sides of the broad road, with wooden doors which had wooden shutters. There were trams criss crossing the road as the jingling bell caught my attention. Refined Indian men in dhoti and kurta and beautiful women in cotton tangail sarees. What beautiful hair!cascading like Niagra falls over their back.

I looked around with amazement as we crossed Flurrys and then The  Grand. I screamed in excitement, "Is this Calcutta"?. The rickshaw puller signalled me to keep quiet and in gestures signified my speaking could cost me money. I instantly felt silent, not even a whimper, the rickshaw kept rolling and it suddenly came to a halt infront of Elite Nursing Home. I looked at him or her, whatever, he held my hand and took me inside the nursinghome.

Was i invisible to all? No one seemed to react to my presence, as we proceeded further in the corridors of the nursing home. Sounds of a young mother, as she groaned in labour pain fell in my ears. Before I could react, nurses came running out of the labour room congratulating a North Indian family sitting outside. Its a baby girl! Mataji, what do you gift us? The grandmother covered her face in her cotton saree pallu and whispered, " If it was a son, Rani sahib would have been happy as she lost Raja sahib a week back." she sobbed softly.

The young mother was happy, she has had a baby, the family had declared her barren as she had not conceived for 8 years. They had passed a verdict, not considering for a moment she was married at a tender age of 13 to a boy who too was 13. They played together, not understanding the nuances of marriage. A daughter has come, a signal to her fertility, son too will follow, "the heir". The daughter was precious to her for it completed her as a woman. She at that point did not know how many battles she will have to fight to give her precious a respectable life.

She returnedto her sasural. The train chugged in the station. The whole estate was waiting to welcome her as she disembarked from the train, holding the infant  gingerly in her arms. Her brother-in -law was the one who moved fast towards her as he took a peek at the new born. He chuckled at first glance, " Bhabhisa, yeh kahaan ka model hai? Indo China war was in 1962,  its aftermath seems to be present 1965 dec too. Look at her eyes, nose. Her complexion is so english (lost in her later life) and traces of her birth in bengal in visible in her appearance. He chuckled as he anounced, "Yeh toh international model hai, kahin bhi fit hi jayegi".

The  motorcade moved towards the palace, carrying the unwanted princess.

Bunty Baba ki Jai!!!

Continued...
She held my hand, as both of us twirled in abandon, me in my domain and she mirrored the effect. Such perfect synchrony, not a single movement or expression unmatched. It could have just been my reflection, if I had not known better, she was much more than me. I paused to catch my breath, she paused too. Perhaps to give further lessons in life. Her own set of philosophy, Bunty Baba I called her,affectionately.

I questioned her in humour, "What more lessons in life do you have Bunty Baba?" as I touched her feet in mock devotion. She with a devilish smile as if on cue transformed into a tilakdhari, flowing saffron clothes, hair coiled on top of her head, nails painted bright red, and pouting red lips sadhvi with sounds of BUNTY BABA ki Jai!!! resonating in the background. She said, "Bachcha, ask, without fear whatever is to you is dear,
 for bunty baba is here.."

As she sat in samadhi, with one hand raised in blessing, the other counting the beads of the rosary and me an eager disciple at her feet, ready to drink every drop of amrit in gura babs(spelling intentional)vani. She raised her right hand in the air, clicked her fingers. There came a piece of paper in her hand. She gave me the paper and said, "Lo, yeh tourist visa". Tourist Visa???? i looked at her questioningly.

Arrey, she said irritatedly, we cannot take a tour of your life without a visa naa? What kind of lawyer are you? Don't you know if you enter without permission, you could be jailed? So take this and be ready for the headiest tour of your life. (Pun intended).  We will stop wherever you wish to, but charges will be extra. We will stop, wherever i wish to, no charges for me. You see I am the organiser. We will go through the lifescape and all questions will be answered automatically. 

We sat in her tonga as she took control of the horse and once again changed appearance to a village belle as she screamed while egging the horse to pick up speed. (She did not whip the horse, coz a great believer in PETA). Chal Dhanno!!! aaj teri basanti ki izzat ka sawaal hai!! as the tonga rolled forward lurching from side to side on the broken off track road...
To be continued

The Mirrored Act

Continued..

I stood transfixed gazing at the mirror, had I travelled through time machine? Was time machine a reality?It had the promises of a thrilling adventure.While I was still lost in my thoughts, the reflection in the mirror kept changing its acts. It seemed it had acquired an identity of it's own. In a flash, it was a young girl prancing about in a frock with pigtails,next moment a tomboy teenager, clad in jeans t shirt, short cropped hair climbing up the the tree.scratched arms,  mud smeared clothes. Letting out a Tarzan's call of victory 'aaahheoo' (ok, this sounds more like Jane's cry of victory but a victory for sure)on reaching the highest branch. Achievement no less than that of conquering Mount Everest. Voila, Now!!! A young girl, demure and shy bride (fulllll of sanskar).

The images kept changing, khut khut khut khut.It had a dizzying effect. A dream or nightmare!!. But it did not seem to stop , absolutely no consideration for me,the colours,the backrounds,the images, kept flashing.Holocaust!! As it rapidly changed from a young mother playing with her children to a mother of teenage children. To a dutiful daughter-in-law tending to her ailing father-in-law. A lecturer, bound by timings. Holding the future of thousands of students.

It still did not stop, as it clicked to different modes. A social worker, sitting on the village courtyards surrounded by eager faces. A loving daughter, as she bid farewell to her mother to the world of peace. I was still trying to figure out the fast changing effect, when suddenly it all vanished, went right back in a hurry as it had come. Once again, the original figure came and broke into a jig with a glass of vodka in one hand and ciggerette dangling from the corner of the lips as  it lipsynched the famous Rekha song from the 80's. Saare niyam tod do, niyam pe chalna chhod do... I did not realise when I too joined in the jig and sang in chorus.

To be continued...

Slept@19wokeup@50.

As I stretched myself with a yawn and looked around with dazed eyes. A lot had changed since I went to sleep. Things looked so different, as my neck turned slowly from one direction to the other trying to comprehend and eyes fell on the person reflected in the mirror. Who is that? What is she doing beside me? Turned around quickly to catch a glimpse of her but nothing!!!!! Suddenly I was scared, how can a thing leave a reflection without being seen and where was my reflection? Was this place haunted? Every movement I made, the reflection imitated. It was eerie, as I bit my nails and the reflection did the same.

The reflection was of a woman with a few strands of grey hair, much heavier than me yet so familiar.The eyes seemed to know me intimately, the same arched eyebrows, cupid bow lips, cleft in the chin. Was it me? and then like a lightening it struck. YES, that is me. It seemed I had gone of to sleep at the age of 19 and now when I woke up 31 years had passed by, mid century was where I stood. Past and future both a mist, their droplets condensing on the present. It seemed I sleepwalked through life, fulfilling duties, completing chores, raising children, looking after elders. Not for a moment had I stopped to look at myself. 

Now, when I looked at my reflection, it winked at me and laughed naughtily. Said, here i stood waiting for you to take note of me and knew one day you will.  Dont cry over lost time, we are still young , lets take life full on!! hv fun!! make mistakes!! fight!! assert!! just be achild again. Lo and behold I transformed into a teenager trapped into a 50 year old body. Once again saw the world from young eyes, wanting to learn, laugh, enjoy, to live the fairytale. Here I was a Sleeping Beauty who woke up not with the kiss of Prince Charming but his smack!!!.PHUTT!!! it jolted me awake..

To be continued....