the wonderful unknown.

grass

The world was gray. The flowers in her garden refused to sway, standing ill and frozen as her who buried herself between the thickets of the tall, green grass.

She tried to recall the last time she mustered the energy to grab a bite. Four hours? That would have been around 11 am. No, it had to be around seven hours ago, an aunt’s concerned rings had woken her from a restless night of sleep. The sausage she heated that morning had tasted as disgusting as the world, as that house, the empty rooms, as disgusting as him. Everything tasted that way today.

The skies were blue, cloudless and sunny on that afternoon they first met. The first semester of college, the glory days. She needed a hand with her application forms, and he was seated in a bench next to her with a pen in hand. It was that day, when his kind smile and effortless sense of humor won her over.

Common friends, a pint of beer or two, a few afternoons spent under the shade of the big banyan trees in their college, talking about nothing in particular and it began. It was not a step by step, the dating-then-getting-to-know-each-other kind of love, it was a mad rush. There was a sense of passion that strengthened everytime their eyes met.

Three years later, they got married. The happiest day of her life. Walking down the aisle in a dreamy white gown while her love of a lifetime stood at a distance with a smile in his eyes. It was a fairytale come true. All the friends were jealous of that lucky girl who married her college sweetheart.

The grass was damp cold from yesterday’s rain. But she didn’t mind it, it helped her stay alert. Maybe the shivers down her spine would overpower the stabbing in her heart. Her phone lay still in her hands, blank with the blackness of a soul worn out. Her memories were what lay piled up, too many to ever forget in one lifetime.

“I looked at the stars today and talked to God, I told him to tell you that I love you with all of me.” It was the first time he had talked of love. It was almost silly, surprising, it was just two weeks since they met, but still, she couldn’t put herself to sleep that night. A heart too happy is as restless as a cat in a cage.

From the day they met, twenty four hours never passed without him telling her of his love. On the trips he’d have to make without her, every beautiful place sighted was recorded in his worn out Nokia phone. His voice in the background, describing the scene, the hour, the aching in his heart. Did he tell her too, of his childhood secrets, the stories that deepened their bond, the stories only they knew.

It had started drizzling again and she lay there still, trying to remember the words he’d said when he walked out that door. Something on the lines of, “It’s just not working out anymore. The spark is gone.” She wondered how many were like her, how many had these words echoing in the back of their head every time they took a breath. How many lay on cold grass unable to put in words the piercing feel of their insides shattering. Maybe, if those grass blades turned to steel…

Would that heart that stole him ever love him as she did, would that heart understand the kindness behind that gruff air he tried to keep. Would she see that scar in his cheek which he got after a fight with his brother, the three crinkles that formed in his forehead everytime he tried to look too wise for his age, the way his eyes lit up when he saw a nice pair of boots.

She looked up at the live oak tree above her as another teardrop moistened her cheek, branches spread out like an artists impression, leaves dripping with yesterday’s rain. Between the leaves she could see the clouds gather and turn purple, ready to shower another batch. Maybe she could toss an omelet, put some noodles to boil. Find a little energy to turn on the TV and put on her favorite show.

On a branch above her, a small bundle of green hung lowly. In that little space of a cocoon , a larva lay in the darkness, lone and unaware, that in just a matter of time it’s gonna spread beautiful wings and soar away into the wonderful unknown that awaits.

image source – here and here

A Trans’ World

p.s: This piece is written in focus of the transgenders in India who collect money in trains for a living.

Trapped in bodies they don’t belong

Treated as un-normal beings

They long to feel at home

In a world they were born in; yet shut out from.

Looked upon as miniatures, clowns;

Smirks and frowns are their daily friends.

They have hands and feet – a body that functions perfectly

Yet they beg to live

Because the world is too small to fit them in.

What had they done wrong, are their lives a path they had chosen?

Wouldn’t they have, chosen to live as normal and accepted as everyone else, if they could?

Yet knowing this, we despise, and we hate, and we laugh away

Because that’s just what we were born to do – discriminate and judge

Like we are the good ones here.

The good ones who shun them from their livelihood, because we are too selfish to spare a rupee for the people we’ve left homeless

Yes, the people WE have left homeless – All because we are too scared to adapt to the new unless it has to do with technology

So, keep your money in your pockets and your hurting eyes to rest

Because all they need can be summed up in one word

“Acceptance” from a millions selfish hearts.

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