Life

His eyes opened slowly. He felt darkness all around him. “Am I dead? Have I turned blind?”. Thoughts raced through his mind. He heard strange sounds. “Where am I?” He saw a faint glimmer to his right. He could see. But everything looked blurred. It was then he realised that it was night. He turned towards the faint light. It blinked. He was in a forest. Now he realised what the sounds were. A shiver ran down his spine. “What am I doing here?How did I get here?”. His brain wasnt throwing out any answers. He had to get up. Something was wrong. He could not figure out what. He had to get out of here. His head was throbbing now. He couldnt think clearly. The thought struck him like a bolt of lightening. “Who am I?”. He felt dizzy. So many questions were flashing through his mind. But he had no answers.

He realised he was still lying on the ground. He tried to sit up. He felt a slice of pain tear through his abdomen and back. He fell back exhausted. The pain did not subside. He tried to sit again. Another stab of pain. Only more painful this time. He jus wanted to get up and run. Run from there. Run home. He was running down the street. His bag bouncing off his back. His fingers clutching his lunch bag. His mother was standing at their porch, smiling, her arms outstretched, for him. He wanted to reach her fast. He ran quicker. He was suddenly on the ground. His hands were in pain. Blood was running down his hands. He was crying loudly. He saw his mother run towards him. She picked him up and wiped his arms gently with her saree. Tears were running down her cheeks. “I am OK, mama. I am OK”. It was dark again.

He opened his eyes. His eyes squinted. It was too bright. He had to close them. He opened them again. His eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness. He could see the sun blazing down on him through the branches of the trees. It dawned on him that he was still in some forest. He felt the throbbing in his head return. “What time was it?. She must be worried by now. I must call her. My cellphone.” His hands reached for his pocket. He felt pain rip through his back. His cellphone. He clenched his teeth in pain. He had to get his cellphone. His hands reached for his pocket. He felt a torn flap. His cellphone was gone. He had to find it. He had to get up. He knew something was wrong. By the time he realised it, he felt the pain. His back and his hips were on fire. He collapsed back to the ground.

He swallowed the bile rising up his throat and propped himself up on his shoulders. He looked down at his body. He didnt realise that the gasp was his. His legs lay limp on the ground, as if tied to his body with strings. He could not feel anything. Vomit rose from his stomach and shot up his throat. His body wrecked in convulsions. Nothing happened. The pain in his back was unbearable now. He closed his eyes and lied back on the ground. He will not die lying here. He will not give up. “What time was it? What day was it?”. He tried looking at his watch. The dial was broken. The minutes hand was missing. The hours hand stood at 2. He raised himself again and tried to roll over to his stomach. He bit his lips as waves of pain shot through his body. He pushed himself over.

His upper body moved, but his legs lay tangled in a mess. Good thing he did not feel anything. “Will I walk again?”. He looked ahead of him. The dull throb growing louder. He realised his left eye was completely closed. He tried to look around him. He had to move himself to do it. He heard a sound over the throb in his head. It was faint and he couldnt place it. He heard music flowing. His hands around his father’s neck as his father played the piano. Another world – another sound. This time it was louder. It woke him up. It was a horn of a vehicle. His eyes were wide open. He looked to where the sound came from. He saw a slope. Maybe a road laid ahead. He had to get here. He had to go home. She will be waiting.

Blood was flowing down his arms. Pushing himself forward had been a struggle. The pain through his body unending. He had had to rest many times after moving a few feet. He was nearly at the top of the slope. He could hear cars screeching past. He had only a few feet left to go. It was getting darker around him. He didnt know if it was getting late or if his eyes were failing him. He pushed himself forward. He had reached a ridge. He tried to raise his arm over it. Blood ran down his hands and trickled over his face. He squinted them off his eyes. He had to climb over this final hurdle. He clung to the ridge and tried to pull himself over it. His body had stopped responding. The throb in his head grew louder.

Louder. Louder. The sirens were blaring. The ambulance screeched to a halt in front of his house. Suddenly, everyone around him was crying. His mother, his sister, his aunt who clutched him in his arms and cried. He didnt understand what was happeneing. A stretcher was pulled out of the ambulance. It was covered by a white cloth. Two men dressed completely in white carried the stretcher inside his house. Everything was white. Very white. His mom was crying uncotrollably now. He ran out of his aunts hands and to his mother. He kneeled down beside her. “Please dont cry, mama.” He saw the people in white leave his house. He heard the sirens blaring.

But why were the sirens blaring. He was suddenly suffocating. He felt something gag him. He shook his head trying to fight it. “It’s OK, Mr.Ram. You are in good hands now. Please relax.” He felt a stab on his shoulders and slowly the wailing of the siren grew faint.

Birth

The girl could not be more than 15. She was herself a child. Her clothes, though soiled and dirty were once beautiful. The girl herself was very beautiful. Bright black eyes, a small nose and a very expressive face. She carried a small bundle in her hands. It was wrapped in an old gurney sack. She walked very deliberately through the gates, opening them slowly so as not to make any noise. She looked either ways to make sure no one was watching her. She left the gate open and walked slowly towards the church.

I watched her from my office window. The bundle in her arms moved. She had reached the stairs leading to the church. She climbed the steps slowly, as if willing her body to move, which did not want to respond to her wishes. She reached the stretch where the steps ended and another began a few feet further. She turned left and looked straight in front of her. The expression on her face was that of pain, of suffering. She looked at the bundle in her arms. Warmth crept into her face. A tiny little hand reached out of the bundle as if trying to comfort her. She looked back at the cradle.

My eyes followed her every move. I did not feel any pity. I had seen this way too many times. A girl giving herself up to her love. The love no longer ready to accept her. Alone, shunned by her famil and the society. I did not know how she had managed to bring the baby into this world. She must have gone through hell to reach here. Now she could not have the baby either. She was going to abandon her child. I did not feel any pity. I had seen this way too many times.

She was still struggling with her emotions. She did not want to give up the child. But I knew she would. She had very little choice. She walked the final few steps and reached the cradle. She looked back at her child. She lifted him to her face and kissed him on his forehead. Then she gently placed him in the cradle. She bent down, as if she couldnt bear being even that far from her baby. Her eyes began to well up, tears streaming down her cheeks. She wiped them off on her dirty sleeves. She slowly ran her hand over her baby’s face, tears still streaming down her face. The drops trickled down her face and fell on her child’s face. The child began to cry.

Her body shot up as if she had been stabbed. She looked hastily around her, afraid of being seen. She neednt have worried. I was the only person around. She bent down hastily and kissed the child. She turned around and hurried down the steps and through the gate. I saw her disappear around the gate. I waited a few minutes, just to give her time. I was about to head for the church doors, when I caught her dress behind the walls of the church. I smiled.

I opened the church gates and I could hear the loud wailing of the child. I ran down the few steps towards the cradle. I scooped up the baby into my arms and slowly rocked him, making cooing noises. He seemed pleased enough to stop crying. Was it a he? Yes. He had stopped crying completely and was clutching on to my litlle finger. I looked up and around, like I always did. I could still see her figure from the corner of my eyes. I bent down and kissed the child on his forehead. It was my way of telling her that her child was in safe hands.

I turned around and climbed the steps to the doors of the church. I opened the door, as I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around to see the girl running up the stairs towards me. She reached my, out of breath but grabbed her child from my hands and held him tight to her bossom. She looke up at me with tear strained eyes. A face full of guilt, pain and sorrow. I smiled at her and put my arms around her shoulders and took her inside the church. I felt no pity for her. I had seen this way too many times.

Tears were running down my cheeks.

Tomorrow

The two beams of light were those of a lorry. But they were not moving. A faint glow came from below the lorry. The lorry was parked on the side of the highway. The faint light grew brighter and a man, apparently the driver, emerged from under the lorry with a torch light. They had been running late already. Then he found that the brake lever was jamming. There was some problem with the brake oil. He had tried fixing the problem. But he wasn’t too sure. He would have to drive more carefully. They wouldn’t reach the city before 7. As he walked past the front of the lorry, the light fell on its front. He stopped for a moment and looked at his lorry. An ugly red bull with curled horns stared back at him. It had been his idea, though many of his friends were against it. He had told them that it will drive the evil forces away. It had worked, so far. He climbed into his seat and started the engine.

Sweat dripped down his forehead and fell into his eyes. He tried shaking them away. But they kept trickling down his face. He was completely covered in sweat now. His t-shirt was completely soaked. He must have been running for nearly forty-five minutes. He could sense every muscle in his body move. And every single muscle was aching. There was a burning, gnawing sensation in his flesh. He knew something was wrong.

The roads at this time were always deserted. He would see a rare newspaper boy or a doodhwala. Otherwise, the streets were mostly empty. The sun was slowly creeping up the sky. He heard his heart beat against his chest. It did not sound good. He had been training for almost a year now. There had been moments when he felt everything was in place – his mind, his body and his heart. But it looked like it was not going to happen today, when he needed it to happen the most.

He turned around a corner and the sun was straight on his face. He hated this section of his run. It was not only an upslope but the sun used to beat against his face. He clenched his fist and quickened his pace a little. He gasped a little and lost his footing. He stumbled and almost fell down, but he regained his footing in time. He felt tired. But he did not stop. He kept running.

He heard his heart beat again. It was slowly falling into a nice rhythm. He suddenly felt alive. It was as if that stumble had given him new strength. Suddenly, all the pain in the muscles was gone. He could sense the muscles in his legs moving. They were following a rhythm. They were in sync with his heart beat. He felt good. His body was in complete sync now. One single complex machine. It was like clockwork.

Tomorrow was the race. He had trained for a year for this race. He had to be in top form. His body had finally responded. He could see everything falling in place. All he needed was to get himself in this zone. The zone. He wasn’t even thinking about running. His body was taking care of it for him. He could see himself from another plane. He can win tomorrow.

He saw a small kid sitting on the sidewalk. The kid was smiling and waving at him. He smiled. He could see the fans in the stadium waving at him as he took the lap oh honour. He had flowers in his hand and he was waving back at them. He waved at the kid. There was something wrong. The smile on the kids face had vanished. The kid looked scared, animated. He was pointing at something. He turned to where the kid was pointing. He saw an ugly red bull bearing down on him.