A lesson in verses: Part Two - The stranger's pat

When the little girl got called names,
She’d run to the back of the playground and dance.
Her peculiar dance.

It was what sent smiles through her,
And it was where the world wouldn’t see,
So she did it with all her might.

Aaah! The pleasure of loneliness
Is all she could seek now, not acceptance
For her peculiar dance wasn’t quite like the others.

One day as she stood at the back alone,
Feeling particularly uninspired to do her dance
Two girls she’d only known but not quite, appeared.

They frowned at her. One said, “I like what you do”
The other asked, “Why would you stop? We all need more”
She stood stunned for this praise was unsought.

She got back on her feet
And her peculiar dance wasn’t as peculiar any more
When two pairs of feet joined her.

A lesson in verses: Part one - The second man on the moon

The moment I stepped on that celestial body
My heart waned and I knew something was wrong,
In the way that no one but I knew it was.

Victory wasn't supposed to feel this way, my mind echoed
And as I walked with my heavy suit, the thought continued
Will anyone remember me at all? Wasn't I here too?

Holding a flag I saw him ahead, and then my mind was clear,
History would not remember me. The books would erase me
from this present and from humanity’s future too.

I reprimanded my heart to feel joyous,
It was quite a thing I had managed I remind him,
He answered back "yes, but second.”

I stood still, with absolutely no noise
And in all the stillness of the silence
I heard myself say, jealously, quite loud.

And in my moment of ultimate glory
When the only thing I could think was
"someone is better than me". I sighed.

I walked to the first man on the moon,
Shook his hand, and when the hand was released
I felt a release on my heart too.

The End.

“Hi.” She smiled.
“Hi”

The most awkward silence they ever had ensued. So she broke it with a hug. They held hands and sat down on the swing on her porch.

“You are leaving today?” She asked trying to make a start. Small talk had never been her forte. But since these were new beginnings, who knows maybe she’d like it.

“Yes. I am. Actually, in an hour. I need to see my room and enrol for classes. Which college did you chose finally?”
“Oh. Great. I am planning to travel before I settle on which college to take. Mostly I’ll take the art classes in town. As for now, too much of this swing and porch for me. Working hard this summer, saving up for an air ticket.”

“That’s great. Where do you want to go?”
“The east. Seen too much of the west on television.”
“So who are you going with? Someone new I don’t know about?” He grinned.

She looked at his eyes wondering how oblivious he was to what he was for her. Maybe having never said was the best thing. At least they could part as friends.

“Alone.” She whispered.
“What? Are you nuts? You have never been anywhere alone.”
“Exactly. I need to find someone new anyway. Now that you are leaving.” She finally confessed.

The kindness in his face turned to embarrassment.

“I will miss you.” He whispered and squeezed her hand tight.
“I will try not to miss you”

And as they sat amidst absolute quiet on that porch, the creak of the swing was all that could be heard. But there was also the sound of distance creeping between them.

And it was like the wail of a dying bird. A dying friendship.

Change

What are we so scared of?

She contemplated as she wrote.
Things were changing. Yes, they were.
Everyone was worrying. Parting was not something they were enjoying. But she?

She wasn’t supposed to feel as if parting is inevitable. She wasn’t supposed to be fine with never looking back. She wasn’t supposed to accept distance as a necessity of a progressive world and move on.

She wasn’t supposed to not be sad.
But she was.

Change was happening. And she was glad. Things had been the same too long. She had been not alone too long.
Now she needed to be. This is how freedom smelt. Dangerous, on the edge, scary but exhilarating.

This is what a country felt when it overthrew a ruler. Moving towards uncertain horizons but hopefully brighter ones.

This is what the child felt when it left the womb. From silence to noise, hoping it was melody.

This is what a butterfly felt leaving its cocoon. Unsafe but able.

And it was a beautiful feeling to hold. An adrenaline rush almost. And she wasn’t going to be sad about that.
She was going to be happy. She heard the knocks. And she knew who it was.

And as she walked down steps that were meant to be the last time she saw the love of her life, she hoped he was the love of her gone-past life.

Not her to-come life.

Its time to finally choose.

Its time to finally choose.

He loved home. He loved the familiarity. The feeling that he can walk around with eyes closed knowing he was safe. Knowing that tap in the bathroom that always dripped.

That at night, the branch hit the window and sounded like a plea of help, urgent and desperate. He had searched for that noise when they first moved in and realized what it was.

Now it was soothing. Almost like music.

He loved the familiarity.

Of her. The one thing that had never changed. But it would. There was no other choice.

It was as inevitable as the setting of the sun. It had to happen. Unless they went out of their way to run from it and even then it would eventually catch up.

He knocked at her door.

She had never meant anything more than a friend to him. But how much of a difference that had made was unexplainable. He didn’t question or wonder why she would want to spend time with him or listen to him. She had to. That is what she was there for. And now they were older. He was making a decision to not be how they had always been. Together.

He knocked again.

He had cried holding her. And laughed while beating her up. He had written about her eyes and those thinking stares.
Her.
And now he was going. To bigger things. To bigger dreams.
To better people, too, maybe.

Maybe.

She was certainty.

Disagreements

She walked over to his house and knocked.

“Hi Aunty.” She whispered from a face that was red from crying.

“He is in. Did you two fight?” Aunty asked.

“I guess so.” She whimpered.

“It’ll be fine. Go talk to him. He has been waiting, I am sure.” Aunty patted her head as she walked towards his room door.

She knocked and pushed the door slightly. And there he was. Talking to someone on the phone, smiling.

Theatrical as it was she would have liked him on the bed crying his eyes out too. Then an apology would not have seemed misplaced. Now it would.

She turned around and closed the door. She walked herself out and started walking rapidly. Then burst out crying.

When did life become about misplaced apologies? They grew up together and it didn’t matter who pushed who after they had settled it with a punch. Growing up and talking things out sucked. Punching is better.

She sat on a bench and continued crying. She’d look left hoping to see him walking towards her and then hugging her tightly.

But he didn’t come.

So she walked home. Drank soup and read about eternal friendships. And cursed books some.

They make you think you know everything. Just because you read about it in a crappy novel doesn’t make you a subject matter expert.

Her phone rang. It was him.

“Hello.”

“Are we okay?” His now-deep voice said.

“Asshole.” She whispered.

“Can we stop explaining and just be fine again?” He asked softly.

“Let me think. I have cried a lot since yesterday.” She sighed.

“Can we stop explaining and just be fine again?” He asked again.

“Only if I can punch you.”

“Deal.” He smiled.

Life was fine again. Like the times when everything was settled with a punch. Even heartbreaks.

Ghost Towns

She was teaching him to bounce stones on water.

“So you throw the stone like you want to slit water, okay?” She threw a stone and it bounced thrice before sinking.

“See?” She looked around. He was not next to her.

He was sitting a little farther leaning on a rock, reading.

She went and sat next to him. “I was teaching you how to bounce stones, remember?” She frowned.

“Yes, but then after you did it yourself 6 times, I kinda lost interest.”

She frowned again.

She slept on the banks of the river and stared at the sun. And smiled.

“The sun just washes me with happiness and the sounds of water make me happy too.”

“Lots of chocolate makes you happy, too. Doesn’t mean you eat all you want!” He mocked her.

Ignoring him, she went on, “Then why do we live away from this? Why build stupid buildings?” She asked, more to the sky than him.

“I don’t think buildings are stupid. Have you ever visited the old police station? I went there with my father. It has these old pictures of criminals and bravery awards on a mantle. Really interesting.”

“Hm. So buildings are nice when they are old, eh?”

“No, idiot. Buildings are nice if they have memories in them. The older they are, the more memories. The more the walls have seen, the more stories they tell.” He said, sounding like a wise poet.

She looked at him as if she was examining his wisdom.

“So old buildings with lots of sun and a river nearby and some trees too. Sounds perfect, no?”

“No. You just described a ghost town. You need people always.”

“I don’t particularly like people.” She said sitting up.

“Me neither.” He smiled.

Stomachs

The bell rang.

He stared at her as she passed. Oh god, she was beautiful.

“Ahem.”

“What took you so long?” He frowned. She had seen him stare at Anya.

“Anya is nice. And pretty.” She smiled wide.

They started walking home.

“So?” He shrugged.

“So nothing. She would gracefully accept if someone liked her.” She continued beaming.

“She is nice. Isn't she?” He finally gave in. “And so intelligent.” He continued.

“So tell her.” She said.

“But, she is Anya. I mean, I am not even friends with her. I am friends with no girl but you.”

“Hm.” She was deep in thought.

“I cannot just ask her out. How do I tell her she is brilliant?”

“Beat her at a test.” She said. She bought an ice cream candy, sat down on the bench near the street and started licking it.

“What? But she is smart. She tops them all.”

“Exactly. Beat her at a test. She will notice you. Maybe even talk to you. Then you can offer to teach or something. I don’t know.”

“Shit. This is so hard.” He sighed and sat down next to her. “I feel like my stomach is a churning machine when she passes. She is just so fabulous, you know. I want to talk to her all day.”

“Kids and love is charming to watch.” She laughed.

“You are 14, too.”

“And not in love.” She beamed.

“The ones who resist the most, are the ones that fall the hardest. My dad said.” He said giving her a smirk.

“We will see about that.”

“We indeed will.”

And as he ran past her stealing her candy, she realized what he meant. Sigh, her stomach churned.

Treasures

She plopped down on the rock.

“It’s pointless. What if there is no hidden treasure?” She said.

He was dragging her again to the top of the hill to search for that elusive treasure, he said he believed in.

They had been searching for it since they were 7.

He would drag her here, everyday of their summer holidays and make her search for hours before they could finally go and have ice-cream.

It was like a tradition. They had stopped one year when they weren’t talking to each other. He scored the highest marks, she almost failed that year. Her mother decided whose doing it was. She didn’t see him one whole summer.

But after that year, he ensured she never did badly. He’d teach her. Everyday. He almost killed her once when she wouldn’t get why equations were important. But she survived. And so did their friendship.

“There is lazy butt. Move it. We can’t spend so much time getting up there. We have to search. I will seriously not get you along next time.”

“Thank god for small mercies. Can I go back now?” She glared.

“No. Think of this as payback for all the times I choose you for my football team so that you aren’t the only one left.”

She got up, dusted her butt and walked on like a zombie.

“You know it is pointless, right? It has been 6 years. We have never found anything. Who gave you all this bullshit about treasure, anyway?”

“Shut up, will you? You are just lazy. Thank me I do this to you. Otherwise every summer you would have grown very very fat.”

“Thank you.” She scowled and kicked him on the back of his knee.

He fell and winced in pain. Oh god, she thought.

When she gave him her hand, he pulled her down hard. They laughed.

“My father told me there is something up there. That he went there every day and searched till he didn’t have summer holidays to do that anymore.”

“Yes, so you should do it. Keep your family tradition of ‘being pointless’ up. I do not mind.”

He punched her.

“So there is no treasure then.” He sighed.

“No, there isn’t. I am sure he is trying to tell you ‘Son, do not waste your life like I did.’”

He punched her, again. Harder.

And as they sat there beating each other up, he suddenly realized the treasure his father was talking about.

A secret

"This is a secret" , she mumbled. "You cannot tell this to anybody."

He gave her his typical "I know I shouldn't be friends with you" look.

"But why be so secretive? It is not national treasure."
"It is my treasure. Who knows? Maybe nations want it", she said.
"Okay so we dig this hole and then what?"
"Nothing, we wait for me to die."
"What?"
"And then you take it and bury it here."
"If I have to bury it after you die, why are we digging now?" He said as he let the shovel drop and sat down with an angry look.
"Because it is ceremonial. I should be able to dig the grave. I won't be able to do it after I die, right?"
"I swear, I will push you in. You are 12. Where do you get these stupid ideas from?"

He gave her his typical "I know I shouldn't be friends with you" look, again.

"From my head. Isn't it where everyone gets their ideas from? I just preserve them. Or try to."
"Trust me. Your ideas are not worth preserving." He laughed.
"Says the guy who doesn't know the spelling of weird?"

He gave her a mock smile and continued, "What will we do with the grave till you die? Someone may fall in."
"We'll put a sign up. 'Look where you are going, lest you go down.' Sounds nice?"
"Ya, I guess. I'll paint it."

"But why is the grave so big?" He inquired as they walked away. "Isn't it just a tiny book?"
"It is a tiny book of ideas. It will need room to breathe. Maybe, someday some kid like myself will find it. I shall be very happy then."

"You shall be dead, then." He laughed and broke into a sprint.

She was a girl but she hit like a boy, nonetheless.