Oh! Papyrus…

Walking on earth, under the sky

Breathing some air, water flow by

Fire within, I dip my pen

I’m not yet done. Please stay on, Papyrus…

You’ve survived for long, for the pen you belong

Ready to be drawn, etched and sketched

Oh! You’re so dedicated

So I could write, pass you on

They could read, sing along

You’d live on, Papyrus…

You’ve fallen off your mother

While your clans wither

You’ve remained painless, and subtle

You’ve flown on to my shoulder

I take you on my lap, with love

I dip that pen in ink, and hold

Before I think, I ponder and blink

You’re my greatest gift

You’re my love. Oh! Papyrus…

The Magic...!

The magic appeared, for the first time in years. It was at a distance but as I walked further, it got clearer. I saw it closely and smiled at it, in disbelief. Ignoring its existence I continued to walk, not getting diverted.

And the road was familiar, I had walked on this path for years that I could even close my eyes I thought. I need no light to reach where I want to. Perspiring heavily, with more pace I had reached the path. To my left was the ocean, to my right a mini forest. I smiled gently and loved my journey, like always.

And the magic re-appeared. On the path that I walked, it was slowly descending. I could not ignore or divert myself. I was sceptical, yet had to walk. Reluctantly, I took slow steps beneath it and let it fall on me. It embraced me, slowly decorating and breathing some wonder on to my body. Like a cool shower after a hot long day, like a fall of snow in the desert, like a child’s smile in the graveyard, it plunged on me. I felt cleansed and revived as I continued to walk.

And then I’m back into the world that I belong, with the magic that has gone deep down somewhere within. I’ll keep it for some time, as long as I can. I know I’d eventually lose it and go searching once again. Or, it might just appear and say look no further, I’m here! 

The understanding...!

Sometimes I don't understand you, she said. 

Good. It only means you have tried and failed.

I may never succeed?

When you try different paths yet keep failing with each, you would've eliminated so many wrong paths before ultimately hitting the right one. 

So, not understanding you isn't really a failure on my part?

Right.

What if time never permits us to complete our discovery? What if everything ends abruptly? What if one of us just dies instantly much before time?

That would complete the journey that we started together.

Is it only death that can help me succeed in understanding you? Is it true for you too?

As long as your understanding of my physical self is concerned, the answer is yes.

I'm talking about your inner soul.

There's neither death to it nor an end to understanding it.

I would never say I understand you completely?

Or, you could never stop your discovery.

I wonder how those couples say they understand each other so well that they exactly know what the other wants, thinks and behaves.

They might've just got tired of the discovery process and settled for something less.

That's like taking their credit away.

There's a world out there for us to travel, explore and learn. We might stop at the start line or halfway through and say we are done, or might just never stop.

Go on, I'm trying to understand you more.

So am I... And will always do.

Waiting...!

She sat in a corner, holding the toy I had once gifted her on her birthday. ‘I don’t like this scary creature, couldn’t you find anything better?’ she had asked. ‘It’s just right for you’ I had teased. She was looking in its eye while touching its nose with hers. I stood there, looking and waiting for her to turn and notice me which she never did.

‘Hi’, I said.

‘Oh! It’s you. Today you’re on time and you even remember my birthday. How unusual! I thought you always forgot.’

‘Not at all, wish you happy birthday dear’

‘Don’t say that. I don’t need any sympathy’

‘What do you want?’

‘You know what I want, and you can never give that one thing to me. Not in this life, can you?’

I said nothing. Like the other night when I walked on the open terrace all alone, disconnected from everything and everyone. She had followed me there and asked endless questions that fell on my deaf ears, making her more frustrated. ‘I’m going to jump from here’, I last heard her say, yet ignored. She leaned forward and looked at me before I extended my hand which she refused to hold letting herself go deep down.

‘See? Then, why ask? It’s okay, leave it. What if I had asked for something else?’ she now said.

‘Sure...’

‘It’s someone’s death! You know whose’

‘What are you saying? You won’t get anything from it.’

‘I haven’t gotten anything, anyways. How about a little relief?’

‘The time is running, I’ll have to leave’

‘Yes, of course. Who has time these days? And don’t come again if you can’t get me what I want.’

‘I’m worried about you...’

‘If you had said, I’m in love with only you. Just once!’

‘I am…’

‘Get lost, go and show your coward face to your looser wife and tell her you’re not brave enough to kill her to satisfy another woman, who’s madly in love with you.’

I said nothing. Each time I wanted to shed some tears looking at her plight, I would go back from the asylum dejected. She could not be healed. Doctors had given up. We were happily married until she started doubting me for not spending enough time with her, making her wait for me and had caused herself this trauma. While she’s still my wife, she believes I’m married to someone else and she’s still waiting for me. And, now I’m waiting for her… 

If I had spent these moments with her, back then...?

From 49th floor…!

Today is a big day for me. I have been nervous whole night and could hardly sleep. I had tried calling Rosy last night to share my feelings, but she had not taken my call. That wasn’t new to me, but it made me more frustrated. My roommates were drinking through the night as I struggled to get some sleep and before I closed my eyes there was the wakeup call!

‘Ok, get in. We start the day early’ the manager said. ‘It does not mean you can finish before time.’

We scratched our heads with despair. None of us would talk while on work. And we would address each other by our assigned numbers, not our names.

‘B12 to B20 assemble near tower 12’, he ordered. I walked along with my team mates. The project deadline was missed long before and my manager was visibly tensed. The pressure was boiling down on each one of us. ‘You rogue, don’t you get it when I call your number once?’ he screamed at one of the fellow mates. ‘Get in line, quick. We don’t have time for demos or trials. Let’s get started. Take the elevator to level 49.’

It was the very first time I was getting that high. I had not imagined how small or scary it might look from such high floor. This was a new job and I had started just a month ago. It was a new country and I knew nothing about it. I did not understand what they spoke, though I understood when some of them stared right into my eyes after a long day at work. Most mornings, I don’t get to take bath. When there are 12 people in a unit sharing 1 bathroom, the lucky 2 or 3 get to bathe on a given day. We travel to work together by a private vehicle and I try my best to avoid public transport on such days. The perfume or deodorant doesn’t last long enough when the day gets hotter and longer! While they exchanged a smile with strangers, my existence went unnoticed. I would instead look at the small baby on a stroller that did notice and wave. I saw more places all of which were neat and clean, except me!

‘Why can’t you study well? We work hard to send you to school’

‘This boy doesn’t get anything; he’s fit to be a labourer and nothing else’

‘Get out of the house when you can’t earn enough. Your dad is sick and the money you earn can’t buy us water.’

‘Yes I love you, but you don’t earn enough to feed me, right?’

These questions had etched a strong mark on me and raised several questions on my own existence. I tried odd jobs from various sources but came back frustrated and penniless. Then someone said I could try abroad. I didn’t ask what my job was. I wasn’t good in school, but I was skilful or so I believed. I did not believe in anything else, not even god. God just did not exist. If he did, he can’t throw only problems at us. I had not remembered one day from my childhood when god was kind on my family. So god was as good as ghost, or may be worse, I had believed. ‘She might marry you if you go there and come back with some money’ I didn’t ask how much money. I wanted money to solve all the problems though I didn’t know how much!

I spoke less on the day I landed at this very large airport. I was taken into a room where 11 other people lived. They were young and old, came from various places, yet spoke one common language that wasn’t common enough to embrace me. I smiled at them and nodded for everything. That was my only language. Though I never learnt what they spoke, slowly I had started to understand what they meant!

Living stuffed like it were a cage meant we needed air to breathe, a little more space to stretch. On the day we had no work, which was once a week we would go out and explore various places that were free like public parks, bus stops or any space that was wide open and would end up at a temple. I did not go there to pray, but to eat whatever that was served for free until a priest would find out and shove us out to another temple. It would help me save some more money. I had learnt how to send money back home and I had a phone now to call Rosy. All of these in one month and I felt happy until today.

I am on level 49 with 8 others. They appear normal and nonchalant while I’m nearly shivering. They gave me some belt to wear and then a hood to cover my head, gloves that I always used. They were getting down, one after the other and I stood there without courage. I trembled as I got my foot down and set myself hanging in the air as I flung all over like a pendulum hitting hard surfaces everywhere around my reach before I halted. I held the rope tightly and looked down beneath my hanging feet. Then I heard a scream from above ordering me to concentrate.

And I dipped the brush in the container that had white paint. As I started to paint the building white, a drop or two fell from 49^th floor to the ground along with my sweat. I prayed my sweat should fall first followed by the paint. Or would it stink when it reaches the ground and make them stare at me from below!?