Navami blues
Was in no mood to start from home that day. The grey sky was an exact replica of my mind's pattern. Clouds of gloom, fear, uncertainty, darkened the nature without and within as well. Thank God, my sister was there.
Starting at 6pm we reached Howrah at 1:30a.m. Yatri Nivas had no place for us. Givn the situation we were in, we decided to take a seat nearby. God saw to it that we had a seat for us as well as our luggage. My sister was vigilant and kept me awake with frequent cups of tea which disappeared in the thorny fringes of the Pepsi lines that had already inflammed the hungry stomach.
Waiting was boring, tiring. We were sure we wore a pathetic look. We felt we were the ones thrust into sombreness, but we were lucky as there were people around. Some were snoring with their elaborate selves on the platform, quite decorative with their bedsheets and pillows, some awake like us, two beauties waking up to glory carrying away their sleep to extraordinary levels of dreamland, some drowning their urges in heavy cups of tea or coffee.
When I caught my sister looking at me, I asked her what the matter was. She replied how could I stay awake without talking. Concealing my secret exercise of waking up late in the night, courtesy, the internet, I said, it's ok with me so long as I don't have to waste my energy in idle talking. I pointed at someone murmering something and my sister fell into a spontaneous scrutiny of that being. I was relieved.
Presently when she could interest herself no more, she left the seat, went for a stroll, came back with short phrases...she had a good listener I bet. She lost her way for a second and searched me out, saw big mice, sympathised with the vendors in the stalls and then correcting herself with the probability of them having shifting duties or so and finally settled down beside me watching the pranks played by two kids at our feet.
She did so much, and I..I kept looking at the watch counting hours.
I had the patience, to bear up with the backache that momentarily disappeared with the words my sister spoke, the people my eyes cast upon, the dreams that came and went in a flicker, the thin mind mapping that the hour helped me sketch when I felt I had a nap-of-sorts.
My sister was awake. She saw it all. Not even once did she complain. Once she made a mention of sleeping on the ground but controlled herself.
As the morning light and the heavy crowds marked the outlin of the new day, carrying away the wisps of sleep that had so long struggled to tak hold of me, my sister fell into an hour-long nap. I kept vigil.
I had no one to blame. Devi Maa had taken care of the both of us supplying the necessary energy we needed, braving all odds and sucking up fear. There was nobody to be answerable to. This was the puja we lived, we didn't do anything, neither did we pray. We lived the night. The sky was bright and clear.
I was to start for a different destination, my sister, back home. I had my tickets, she didn't.
Taking a few snaps of hers was the only thing that I could think of to prevent the tears that were desperately trying to cloud her eyes, but I failed. She parted with a heavy heart, I tried to be casual forgetting completely that on the day of the Visarjan, Vijaya Dashami as we call it, Devi Maa herself came in the form of my sister to give me the necessary comfort that I needed.
Starting at 6pm we reached Howrah at 1:30a.m. Yatri Nivas had no place for us. Givn the situation we were in, we decided to take a seat nearby. God saw to it that we had a seat for us as well as our luggage. My sister was vigilant and kept me awake with frequent cups of tea which disappeared in the thorny fringes of the Pepsi lines that had already inflammed the hungry stomach.
Waiting was boring, tiring. We were sure we wore a pathetic look. We felt we were the ones thrust into sombreness, but we were lucky as there were people around. Some were snoring with their elaborate selves on the platform, quite decorative with their bedsheets and pillows, some awake like us, two beauties waking up to glory carrying away their sleep to extraordinary levels of dreamland, some drowning their urges in heavy cups of tea or coffee.
When I caught my sister looking at me, I asked her what the matter was. She replied how could I stay awake without talking. Concealing my secret exercise of waking up late in the night, courtesy, the internet, I said, it's ok with me so long as I don't have to waste my energy in idle talking. I pointed at someone murmering something and my sister fell into a spontaneous scrutiny of that being. I was relieved.
Presently when she could interest herself no more, she left the seat, went for a stroll, came back with short phrases...she had a good listener I bet. She lost her way for a second and searched me out, saw big mice, sympathised with the vendors in the stalls and then correcting herself with the probability of them having shifting duties or so and finally settled down beside me watching the pranks played by two kids at our feet.
She did so much, and I..I kept looking at the watch counting hours.
I had the patience, to bear up with the backache that momentarily disappeared with the words my sister spoke, the people my eyes cast upon, the dreams that came and went in a flicker, the thin mind mapping that the hour helped me sketch when I felt I had a nap-of-sorts.
My sister was awake. She saw it all. Not even once did she complain. Once she made a mention of sleeping on the ground but controlled herself.
As the morning light and the heavy crowds marked the outlin of the new day, carrying away the wisps of sleep that had so long struggled to tak hold of me, my sister fell into an hour-long nap. I kept vigil.
I had no one to blame. Devi Maa had taken care of the both of us supplying the necessary energy we needed, braving all odds and sucking up fear. There was nobody to be answerable to. This was the puja we lived, we didn't do anything, neither did we pray. We lived the night. The sky was bright and clear.
I was to start for a different destination, my sister, back home. I had my tickets, she didn't.
Taking a few snaps of hers was the only thing that I could think of to prevent the tears that were desperately trying to cloud her eyes, but I failed. She parted with a heavy heart, I tried to be casual forgetting completely that on the day of the Visarjan, Vijaya Dashami as we call it, Devi Maa herself came in the form of my sister to give me the necessary comfort that I needed.
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