Blood? Water? Poison, maybe?

Dear Famille S,

I don't know what to say here, really. I prefer not having anyone than having people like you.We all share the same name. Yet I feel like I don't belong among you all. I identify with neither your name, nor your village and palatial home and your temple with silver doors. I feel nothing.

Right from the time I was a child, mingling with "them" was greatly discouraged. They were a wayward, mannerless lot, were they not? Oh yes, but they were definitely better than you. I divided my family into two distinct halves, you and them. It was never one cohesive unit. You even threatened me with dire consequences once if I even set foot into that house by the sea I so loved. Don't tut-tut, I remember it crystal-clear.

When our world was being torn apart, you chose to blow us away like dry leaves and twigs. You've blown us away ever since.
I fail to understand if it's blood that flows through your veins, or poison.

Poison that destroyed everything, even all traces of the little connection we had left with you. It hurts me to say this but blood is definitely thicker than water. You've proved it to me time and again. It amazes me how you never feel guilty about the things you've done. Overnight you made us outcastes for no apparent fault of ours.

Thanks for everything. I don't even care anymore about you guys. Jump in a well, for all I care, really. You're fit to do just that.

Yours sincerely,
U

The Missing Note

Karthik Narayan was having a bad day. He paced up and down the control room restlessly. He would have loved a cup of coffee, but there were more pressing matters to take care of.

He was widely known in the music industry as “jhalla”, for his slight streak of madness, for his bohemian approach to music and his ability to produce unconventional yet melodious tunes. Stories of his legendary temper were widespread. Despite all of this, everyone wanted to work with Karthik Narayan, the man who had music in his veins.

“Naina Chaar” was a coming-of-age rom-com. The directors thought Karthik’s music could infuse new life into the simple storyline. After months and months of hard work, the tunes were taking shape. But the otherwise pitch-perfect Nithya was out-of-sorts today. The track she was attempting to sing was a soulful number, depicting the heroine’s struggle at confessing her love for the hero. “I need you to feel the words! Feel them! More depth, more depth!” cried Karthik exasperatedly in his trademark sing-song lilt, as she intoned the lyrics in a flat, almost forced voice. And there, yet another line gone off-key. He was at his wit’s end. “Nithya, let’s try one more time”, he gestured at her from behind the glass panel. “Focus!” he mouthed. She nodded, and the music started once more. Sure enough, she started in a bored voice again.

“That’s enough! Take your things and leave! That’s all for today!” he bellowed at her; and at all those present there. He didn’t understand why she wasn’t able to sing such a simple song. What was he thinking when he recruited this chit of a girl with jasmine flowers in her hair and a strange accent to sing for him?

Wiping her hands nervously on her silk sari, Nithya turned pale. She had heard only stories about the composer’s famed temper tantrums. But now, here she was, cowering like a little girl in front of him. She knew he was regretting even giving her a chance. Try as she might, she could not get herself to sing the lyrics.

“Sir, please sir, one more time”.

“Okay then, hurry up. I don’t have patience for bumbling fools like you”. One more time she went off-key and he would make sure she would be out of the studio by evening.

Nithya splashed her face with water in the makeshift washroom. She was determined not to let this man down. Absentmindedly rummaging through her purse for a lozenge, she pulled out a photo, faded and curling at the edges. She looked at it thoughfully for a few seconds and wondered what it was doing there. Hadn’t she discarded it earlier? Flipping it over, she read the paragraph scrawled at the back. Suddenly, she felt a lump forming in her throat. No, she thought firmly to herself, not now, please, not now, let me sing. But the dam broke and soon her face was streaked with tears.

“Sir, we’ll start?” With a deadpan expression on her face, Nithya walked into the recording room and snapped on her headphones. Karthik looked at her with utter disdain and signaled for the music to be started. She closed her eyes and soon the little room was filled with her sonorous voice.

Miles and miles of endless sand swam into view. The salty sea air hit her face. There she was, back at that glorious sunset, sitting in the sand with the man she loved. She looked into his eyes, gleaming, shining with the hope and happiness that she used to have once upon a time; and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling all her worries melting away.

naina chaar karne do mujhe ek baar
yeh ankahee kehne do ek baar
main bawli bairagin, mera ek hi fitoor
ab nahi karna tujhe khud se door

Karthik felt something stirring within him as he listened to her sing. Images from a distant past of a sunset and a pretty sari-clad girl with big kohl-lined eyes chattering away flashed in his mind. Jhalla, she called him, a new word she had just learnt from a friend. Mad about his music, about life; about her. He thought he had heard her voice somewhere before. In a flash, he realised it was her, after so many years.

Nithya was shaken out of her reverie by the sound of applause echoing all through the recording room. And the one who clapped the hardest was Karthik. She smiled and shyly accepted all the handshakes proffered to her. “That was absolutely superb”, he said approvingly.

Unable to say more and to even look him in the eye, she mumbled a thank-you and scurried out of the room.  Her jhalla had called her to sing for him, just like he’d promised her once upon a time.

Nithya was happy.

2400m

As my feet leave the ground
I feel nothingness below
fog billows around me like a blanket
swirling, like my disconnected thoughts
...my friends scream raucously
and I soar higher and higher
like wisps of cotton, I pass clouds
and float along
and in a matter of minutes touch solid ground
but it is a new me that descends

I left something up there which will never return;
the dizziness I feel
when I look down those winding roads
that sudden emptiness that envelops me
whenever I catch a whiff of coffee
In those foggy skies
I've found the strength to carry on
that I never knew I had

etched into a rock
...a piece of my soul still haunts that hillock