THINGS NO LONGER FEEL THE SAME"
Anna was walking by the road as the night was about to set in. The streets were busy and the sellers of the night market were shouting,presuading the growing crowd that nothing could be better than their products, The road beside was bustling with vehicles going in every direction.
Among the crowd Anna felt lonely-allalone; in midst of the shouts of the city,Anna was silent. Lost in her thoughts she didn't know where she was supposed to go. All she knew was that she was meant to keep going-keep moving on because that is what life is all about.
Things change but that does not necessary bring life to a hilt,every time we try and feel stable about our life,something or the other changes,and things no longer feel the same. Nevertheless, our existence drags us along-where and why, one possibly has no means of knowing for sure. It has taken Anna a long time to leave her past behind, to pick herself up and to try to move on.She wants something something new,but doesn't know what.She want to have no more of what she recently had but there seems no redemption in sight.
"Why does it happen that every single choice draws me into something i would love running away from?why?why i have got to convince myself that no more of this nonsense tomorrow? I've made wrong choice but why do i have to keep repeating them?" Sometimes,when she sits back to think it seems that there's absolutely nothing that defines her existence. She's left behind a lot,let a lot of things go uncared and today,somehow,this worthless. Why is she acting the way she is?Why is she doing thing that she knew would lead her nowhere?walking with that void,talking to herself,she was trying to trace her footsteps back to her house.She walks past the baker's shop and the smell of the fresh bread feels soothing.She wishes life is as pleasant and small pleasures like the touch and smell of fresh braked bread can help one escapes life's misery.But it isn't so. Years ago when she was a collage student,the fresh bread was her everyday delight and now-a-days all she does when passing by the bakery is give that silent smile to the old baker.
She was at the gate of her house and when she opened the gate the sound of creaking metal cut through the air."Oh!This gate is in serious need of oiling.May be some other day!" she thought and closing it behind her.She stood there, looking at her garden.How easily she could leave things for tomorrow, postpone thing and not even be guilty of not getting back to them,ever. How things had changed! There were days when her friends said she had obsessive compulsive disorder as she fastidiously arranged thing in order and set things right instant she found the amiss-she couldn't bear the cushions or her books lying around,she couldn't stand the crumbled bed sheets,unfinished assignments irritated her and in everything that she did or came across she sought perfection.And now none of this mattered-the gate could be left creaking,the garden unattended and the life uncared for.
The wooden bench in the garden looked desolate. Years ago her evenings passed in the bench.Every evening she would come and sit there after a whole day's running aroung. She would be accompanied by her close friend. Pramesh was someone she could share all her insecurities with.They would both sit there and talked to each other for endless hours,they would listen/they would argue.They both knew all that they had was each other. He would bring along his guitar. She had painted a Curt Cobain in his guitar and every time before starting to play,he would say."This sure is the beat piece of your swork.Am i not lucky to have a great artist like you painting my guitar!" She knew he was mocking her but she could allow him to do that; after all. he was all she had-her closet friend.
He was a good cook and both of them loved anything that had to do with cooking. The aroma of the spices,the feel of the fresh vegetables,the wooden spatula and the taste of the food that they both prepared-their togetherness was bliss. Parmesh would play the guitar even while they cooked and perhaps the music made the food taste better. After a whole day's work Anna could ease away in his company, let the tiredness melt away, and share the silence.He somehow always managed to spil coffee on the carpet and Anna would spend hours scrubbing it off."Coffee patches are beautiful. Just leave it as it is," he would say and she would give him that angry stare and continue with the scrubbing.
She walked into her room.She couldn't even bring herself to go to the kitchen and cook herself something to eat. She had grabbed a meal at the office and she knew she couldn't bring herself to bite more. She hardly used her kitchen these days-the pans and the wooden spatulas hung there aimlessly.The vegetables counter stood empty,the spices filled up to the rim of the bottle losing their aroma with each passing days- the kitchen had a sad air about it and she didn't want to be sad. Back in her room, the coffee patches covered the carpet and she just sat there."Coffee patches are beautiful!"she kept saying,as if to reassure herself.She stepped back into the garden.
The chill of the night air slapped her face and she coulf feel her tears freeze. Dragging the shawl behind her,she sat in the cold garden bench. She reached for the guitar and played it for a while.She knew it did not sound the same amd it would never sound the same. Her last evening with pramesh never walked out of her mind- or any evening with him,for that matter. She could somehow never bring herself to believe that HE WAS DEAD-DEAD FOR TWO YEARS. Life that she knew was beginning to fade away and Anna couldn't help it.She couldn't reason reason what she did these days and why. She was tired od reasoning and she just let things be.
"Your being around perhaps made life easier-a lot easier than what i would ever want to admit..."How Anna wished he would hear all that she has to say but staring into darkness of the night,holding the guitar tight,she's not sure if he could.
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