Friday, October 15, 2010
Conversations - 18
Welcome back, dad.
Hi, Greenie. Thanks.
How was your trip to Rampur, dad?
Hmmm. Great.
Must have been hectic, no?
Sure.
Can I ask you a question, dad?
Why not?
By any chance ...
Go ahead, Greenie.
By any chance, did you remember me at anytime during this trip?
Haha... Honestly, no.
What?
Yes. The answer is: no. ... Sorry. It was not intentional that no thought about you crossed my cranium.
What's cranium, dad?
Relax. I mean my mind.
Greenie did not figure in your thoughts, dad?
Your understanding is perfect, Greenie.
Why? I mean you did not think about me?
Dunno.
Did you think about your wife and daughter?
Yes.... That's because ...
No explanations, please dad.
Look. Please try to undersand. They kept calling me or texting me.
What's texting?
Texting means they were sending messages on my phone.
You mean "SMS'ing, dad?
Oh mi god, you know SMS.
Sure, dad. Had they not texted or SMS-ed you, you won't have remembered them, dad?
Maybe.
You're bad, dad.
Greenie, you sound like my wife. After every trip outside Delhi, she poses two questions: Did you remember us?....
What's the second question, dad?
What did you eat?
Oh.
Most of the time I am tired of both these questions.
Why, dad?
Simple. I eat more or less the same food. Roti, dal, green sabji as salad. Sugarless tea or coffee. 99% avoid sweets. 99% no to liquor.
Are you a saint, dad?
No. No. Bit of self control due to health conditons. I love food.
And what about the first question?
You mean that part about 'remembering them"?
Yes, dad.
Greenie, mostly I totally get engrossed in my work and no space to remember them. But I do remember them occasionally. I avoid this trap because the thought about them disturbs me - emotionally. I want to pack up and return home when I think about them.Then this disturbs my work. I don't like that.
There must have been a lot of greenery all around you during your recent trip to Rampur...
You said it. Rampur is situated 120 kilometres away from Simla. Full of deodar treets and green valleys. Recent heavy rains had turned the entire stretch into a verdant valley.
What's 'verdant'?
Green, greenie. Like your body colour.
Still you did not remember me?
Come on. You've also become emotional. Not remembering you does not mean I don't love you. I love you immensely, darling.
What's darling, dad?
YOu're apple of my eye, Greenie.
You're very confusing. Green first, then darling. Now apple of my eye. What is apple got to do with eye?
(Tring, Tring)
Dad, your phone is ringing.
Give a sec.
Take more time, dad.
(A few minutes later)
Greenie, I have noticed something in you.
What?
Your colour is changing.
What do you mean, dad?
You are not 100% green. Some portions of your body is turning yellow.
....
Are you like chameleon which changes body colour as protection against predators?
....
Okay, okay. You change your body colour to hide away from your enemies?
Now you make perfect sense. In a way, yes. Now I live in your home - not in the green bushes or tree tops or green grass bed. Most of them, I hang around your washbasin or the water tap. I myself surprised that I have not lost my green-ness.
If you wish, I can take you out for a walk, Greenie.
That's a nice one. Going for a walk with a grasshopper? Am trying to imagine that scene...
What's wrong? Mind you, there will no leashes. You will fly or hop on your own. I will walk along side.
Very imaginative, dad. Let me sleep over the idea and come back.
Sleep over, Greenie? You're fast catching up.
What?
Nothing.
Dad...
....
Dad?
...
I think he is totally lost perhaps thinking about our proposed walk. Dad? I know he is reliving his morning walks with Zack..... Memories are not good. Look, how it is turning dad distraughtful. If there are no memories will it be good? Everyday if
memories are flushed out, how life will be?
Dunno. I have to ask him. Later, not now.
He's totally lost.
(To be continued)
Friday, October 8, 2010
Confessions - 1
Haha!
Yes, I feel like laughing.
Jus' a sec.
Haha! Haha!
Am not at all surprised that they already sense that I am Zack reincarnated.
Yes, I'm Zack in grasshopper format.
I love these folks really. They genuinely care for creatures other than their own folk.
I knew from the past that they used to have two birds - Tina and Meena.
I was the most pampered Lhasa Apso perhaps in my past life.
On my exit from this world as Zack, I had a dialogue with my Maker.
"Lord, I must return. And I will return to this family only," I pleaded.
When I was questioned, I explained my rationale.
The choice was: dog or cat. But I knew they did not like cat because they consider cats to be lazy. Dog, they may not because the trauma after my exit was too much for them to handle. Moreover, they may not have time to manage a puppy since all are busy with their career.
What's left?
Any entry into their household has to be subtle. And vegetarian-oriented because they are. '
That's when, I saw a grasshopper waiting in the queue for an audition with the Maker.
Grassshoppers, in a way, are vegetarians. They live on leaves.
"How about grasshopper?" I asked.
The Maker has no problems in granting my wish.
Once this issue is sorted out, the rest fell in place.
The peepul tree just outside this family's flat, the presence of monkeys and the broken washroom window near the peepul treet everything was green in my memory.
Next, was how to attract attention? I began singing in the night. Dad's spouse noticed the "noise" and conveyed to all.
I knew instinctly that the daughter would respond quickly.
She incidently did. Once she has seen me, I knew it will work.
The next three days she kept visitiing the washroom to check out my presence.
Three days ago, she told Boss that the grasshopper ought to be the reincarnation of Zack.
He fell for it. Very emotional guy. Remember he cremated me with Hindu rituals: burning of my physical body at the ghat and then immersing the ashes and bones in the Ganges two months ago!
Mind you, am not going to reveal the truth: as in I am Zack reincarnation.
My objective is to bring back cheer and happiness in their lives.
How long, I don't know.
But as long as my licence to live lasts.
The ball is in the Maker's court.
Till then, let there be happiness.
Check out the previous two patches to get into the groove, folks:
http://zack-a-talk.blogspot.com/2010/10/conversations-17.html
http://zack-a-talk.blogspot.com/2010/10/conversations-16.html
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Conversations-17
Another day, I suppose. Someone is walking towards my room.
My room ... Of course, it is my room. I spend more time in this place than anyone else.
That old man visits only once in the day. That girl - his daughter - came only once. Rest of the time, this place belongs to me.
Oh, here he is.
"Hello, how are you?"
I will surprise him later. For the moment, I will keep quiet.
"Oh, someone fed you with money plant leaves. Good. Sorry, it did not occur to me that you would be hungry.You believe ir or not, my wife says that you must be the new reincarnation of Zack. Know why?"
"Because she says whenever she has approached, you always jumped at her and tried to terrorise her. Haha! Well, that is what Zack used to do to her. Though she fed him and bathed him, his love towards her was marginally on a lower side. Don't know why. He was ecstasic with my daughter and respectful towards me. My wife must have done something that must have annoyed Zack.
"Now that you have spent a week plus, I will google to know more about food habits and get you what you cherish, Okay, dear?
"Of course, you can do that, Dad."
What? .... What did you say? ... You spoke? Huh?
Yes, Dad. I can speak. Your daughter and myself had a little conversation this morning. ..
Wow. Is that so?
Yes. She called me Greenie. What does it mean, Dad?
You call me "Dad"? Haha! Zack used to call me 'Boss".
Dad, I can call you "Boss", if you wish.
No, no. Dad is fine with me, Greenie. Your new name 'Greenie" means that your colour is 'green' - like the colour of fresh leaves.
Okay.
Are you a male or female?
What does that mean?
Let me put it this way... You lay eggs and hatch like all female species do? Or you do the manly thing?
I don't lay eggs. That is not my act. There are others in our family who manage this.
Then you must be a male. Welcome, Greenie!
You're a male? You don't lay eggs, dad?
Nope. Not at all.
Okay.
Are we the first human beings - I mean, like us - you are getting friendly with?
Yeah. Dad, you surprised me on day one.
What? Surprised? I?
Let me explain. Lot of human beings - smaller than Miss - your daughter - humiliate us.
How?
They catch and tie a string and as we fly, they pull us back. Some of my family members have died out of exhaustion or physical disintegration. Or getting crushed under human feet since we lost the ability to fly after wings got clipped.
So sad..
Otherwise, we are kept in glass jars and observed by some big people like you.
You mean in laboratories?
I don't know. But neat places, but smelly again - like this place.
Sorry. I will get this place cleaned up quickly so that you have no complaints.
Thanks, Dad. Coming back, you're the first person to look into my eyes, smile and began talking. Like we do in our own community. That's when I felt comfortable and knew in my heart that you won't harm me.
Thanks, Greenie. ...
Otherwise, I would have flown away had I smelt danger in the first instance, Dad.
Not all people are bad. Some are, no doubt. Am sure even your community may have such elements...
What's elements?
Fuggedit. Grasshoppers like you.
Yes.
How did you come into my washroom?
Ah... That's interesting. I was munching peepul leaves just outside this window. Suddenly a monkey came from nowhere and I tried to fly away from danger. In the process, I saw a hole in the wall and scooted in. Don't know what happened. When I opened my eyes, I saw this place.
Are you injured?
Injured?
I mean, are you hurt in any part?
No. Am perfectly fine. Just hit the wall forcefully and got swooned, I reckon.
Okay. Relax.
Dad, why you come to my room only once a day?
Your room? haha! Yes, your new home!
Home?
Where you live is your home.
Okay.
A home or house consists of seveal rooms for different activities. There is living room, where we sit during daytime. There we also eat. So it can be our dining room also. Then there is bedroom where we sleep in the night. Then there is washroom or bathroom where we take bathe, wash clothes and clean our bowels.
What's cleaning bowels means?
Greenie, you creatures can dispose off waste in public - anywhere, anytime. We have been trained not to do that. Maybe we also did that in public in the past. Now we go into a washroom or bathroom to empty our bowels. Whatever food we eat gets digested and the waste is pushed out of our body. Am I clear?
Yes, dad.
That's why the visit to this room is limited. We don't live here, you know?
Our lifestyles are different, Dad.
Why don't you move onto my worktable and stay there? You will be more comfortable there, Greenie.
Worktable?
The place where I sit and write.
What is writing?
Uff. Fuggedit. You will learn, Greenie. Come with me now!
Are you sure, Dad, you want me there?
I have no problems. Let's go.
(To be continued)
Conversations-16
Thanks, Miss!
What for?
You're feeding me. I have been starving for the past week. You're kind enough.
Oh, ho... Don't be silly.
No, Miss! You're really kind.
Hmmm...
Do you really believe in reincarnation, Miss?
What?
Reincarnation.
Why do you ask?
The old man who visits this washroom every morning, keeps muttering, "I know you're Zack. Now you've come back as a grasshopper".
You mean, my dad?
Is he your dad?
Yes. Did he talk to you about Zack?
Sure. But who's Zack? By the way I can see your eyes too light up. Is Zack someone special?
You said it, Greenie! Zack was our life...
Was?
Yeah, he ... Zack was our pet dog. He died two months ago due to sudden illness. Our family is trying to come out of depression caused by his untimely demise..
Am sorry, Miss!
Eat first. We will talk later.
Does not matter, Miss. I had a few bites already. NOthing to worry. I will eat leisurely.
Greenie... Do you mind if I call you 'Greenie'?
What's there in a name? Call me anything. I am a grasshopper and your naming me does not alter anything.
Thanks, Greenie. You used the word, "reincarnation". What do you know about this? How did you come to know this terminology?
Good question, Miss. Your dad, over the past seven days has spoken a lot on this. Someone dies and he and she returns to earth again giving a lot of signs that the soul is the same old one, but the body is new.
Wow...
Do I make sense, Miss?
Of course. Go ahead.
That's all, Miss.
What's your plan like, Greenie? What I mean is do you plan to stay longer here? Are you comfortable? If you wish, I can move you to my room. Your wish.
Well, I have been here for a week. A bit smelly. I love a bit of loneliness and this washroom is fine with me. Coming back to your question, how long I stay depends a lot of what is destined. I have no idea. If I feel like, I may fly away through that broken window - through which I came in the first place. Nevertheless, I will not go away immediately.
Thanks, Greenie. Any particular food you have in mind? Let me know. I can fetch.
Cool, Miss. Am comfortable with fresh leaves. That's what you fed me a few moments ago.
Good. Let me catch up with you tomorrow since I have classes to attend. Ciao!
What did you say?
Ciao. That means, I am going out. Will meet you and later. Okay?
Okay.
Take care, Greenie.
How to respond to that, Miss!
Say, "Have a nice day!"
Have a nice day, Miss!
Thank you, Greenie!
(To be continued)
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Letters to Zack - 1
Dear Zack,
How are you? is a stupid question to ask someone who has shifted his earthly residence to the heavenly one a few days ago. After all, am a human being - full of follies. Pardon me, dear.
Did you meet Priya's elder brother who has reached there a few weeks ago? Priya tells me that he loves to play around with little fellas like you...
Whom all you met on the way to the Other World, Zack?
How silly of me... You just reached There and you need time to know, understand and familiarise with others. Am demanding info like a news junkie!
By the way, this morning I stepped out at the usual 4 a.m. for the walk. The only differnece was that you weren't there. I told myself that I would keep my emotions under check and will not think about you at all..
I failed miserably. My eyes went to every single lamp post and stationary car wheels - your pee-zone - on the hour long walkathon.
The roadside paper vendors, the ICICI ATM security guard, the half-sleep auto drivers near Mehrauli bus terminus and even the Blue Line bus drivers and cleaners taking bath near Delhi Jal Board is still unaware of your exit from this world.
As in the past, I kept talking all through the route. Instead of verbally roughing up those who have roughed me in the past 24 hours, I was trying to keep engaged in a conversation with you. As usual, sweet nothings.
You never responded in the past. So today was no different. You did not respond. The only difference is that you weren't here. How far away, I don't know.
You will be glad to note that Authorities are relaying the road leading up from T B Hospital to Qutub Minar. The work is still on. Buses that used to be halted there overnight across the Delhi Jal Board are kept on the road leading to Gurgaon.
I again stopped at the Adchini/Saket signal where we usually take a u=turn. And my legs automatically came to a halt at the lamp post where you used to lift your legs to pee -though your bladder is empty by then. Habits die hard, no?
The scantily clad mannequins at Kimaya look through the half-shut Venetian blinds and the security guy outside Karma @ Sabyachi next door is deep asleep. I can hear his snoring.
Daybreak is on. See more morning walkers with walking stick. Paunch belly. Shorts. Canvas shoes. Huffing and puffing. No dogs so far in sight. Again no children yet at the Bus Terminal waiting for their respective school buses with their mum or dad in toe.
I am in control. Unwept so far. As I climb the four storeys to our earthly abode, I feel your absence suddenly. Still am iin control. OPen the door and enter the house. Wife is in the kitching brewing coffee. I walk into the washing room to brush. You always came in to get your feet and mouth washed with the sprinkler. The sprikler is lying there attached to the tap. Eyes well up. I cry loudly, forcing wife to come to console me.
My cup of karela juice is ready. I gulp in two swigs. It does not taste bitter because your death was more bitter. Why have you done this to me, God?
How are you? is a stupid question to ask someone who has shifted his earthly residence to the heavenly one a few days ago. After all, am a human being - full of follies. Pardon me, dear.
Did you meet Priya's elder brother who has reached there a few weeks ago? Priya tells me that he loves to play around with little fellas like you...
Whom all you met on the way to the Other World, Zack?
How silly of me... You just reached There and you need time to know, understand and familiarise with others. Am demanding info like a news junkie!
By the way, this morning I stepped out at the usual 4 a.m. for the walk. The only differnece was that you weren't there. I told myself that I would keep my emotions under check and will not think about you at all..
I failed miserably. My eyes went to every single lamp post and stationary car wheels - your pee-zone - on the hour long walkathon.
The roadside paper vendors, the ICICI ATM security guard, the half-sleep auto drivers near Mehrauli bus terminus and even the Blue Line bus drivers and cleaners taking bath near Delhi Jal Board is still unaware of your exit from this world.
As in the past, I kept talking all through the route. Instead of verbally roughing up those who have roughed me in the past 24 hours, I was trying to keep engaged in a conversation with you. As usual, sweet nothings.
You never responded in the past. So today was no different. You did not respond. The only difference is that you weren't here. How far away, I don't know.
You will be glad to note that Authorities are relaying the road leading up from T B Hospital to Qutub Minar. The work is still on. Buses that used to be halted there overnight across the Delhi Jal Board are kept on the road leading to Gurgaon.
I again stopped at the Adchini/Saket signal where we usually take a u=turn. And my legs automatically came to a halt at the lamp post where you used to lift your legs to pee -though your bladder is empty by then. Habits die hard, no?
The scantily clad mannequins at Kimaya look through the half-shut Venetian blinds and the security guy outside Karma @ Sabyachi next door is deep asleep. I can hear his snoring.
Daybreak is on. See more morning walkers with walking stick. Paunch belly. Shorts. Canvas shoes. Huffing and puffing. No dogs so far in sight. Again no children yet at the Bus Terminal waiting for their respective school buses with their mum or dad in toe.
I am in control. Unwept so far. As I climb the four storeys to our earthly abode, I feel your absence suddenly. Still am iin control. OPen the door and enter the house. Wife is in the kitching brewing coffee. I walk into the washing room to brush. You always came in to get your feet and mouth washed with the sprinkler. The sprikler is lying there attached to the tap. Eyes well up. I cry loudly, forcing wife to come to console me.
My cup of karela juice is ready. I gulp in two swigs. It does not taste bitter because your death was more bitter. Why have you done this to me, God?
On the banks of Ganges
"Dad, take a look at this."
It was quarter past 12 noon and I was sitting on the banks of Ganges in Haridwar. The swirling water was muddy, but full of current.
I looked at the 3-cm long bone piece my daughter extended towards me. I reached out to touch.
It was warm still. Perhaps from the heat that devoured the hair and skin over several hours of burning at the Sai Ashram near Chattarpur Mandir the previous day.
I could not decipher from which part this bone piece came from.
There were no tears. I was dumb. I held the unburnt bone piece for a while before returning. With three of her friends in tow, Krutika quietly dumped the bag containing Zack's last remains (bones and ashes) into the Ganges, the sacred river of India. A dip in this river is beleived to relieve one of all his/her/its sins and provide liberation from guilt or whatever.
Surprisingly, my daughter was keeping her cool. But I was emotionally broke. The 225 km long drive from Delhi to Haridwar was engulfed in me breaking down uncontrollably while at the steering, causing alarm to fellow passengers including my wife, daughter and three of our friends crammed into the yellow Wagon R.
Messages kept pouring in from friends both who have known Zack and those who have heard about him through my constant reference to him in my blogs. No conversation would be complete for me without some reference to Zack. He was my lifeline. He was my stress buster.
With him happily ensconsced over the dashboard, we had travelled to Jaipur umpteen number of times to visit Lokendra Singh, a family friend and ex colleague. On Tuesday also he travelled in the same car but in 'ash' form. His last journey with us.
Wife is concerned over the safety of all of us in the swirling Ganges. Zack's ashes and bones have already been swept away by the current.
I entered the water and took three dips. The same thing which I did for my mother at the same place but a few hundred metres away. That was way back in 1996 - 14 years ago.
I felt the same amount of sadness as I had felt when immersing my mother's ashes. Grief choked my throat. Was unable to breathe or inhale and eyes welled up blurring vision further. I successfully hid my tears from wife and daughter by quieting deciding to push my face into the water and stay for a while.
We embank, change clothes and commence the return journey. We deliberately avoid talking about Zack. At half way mark, we halt for lunch. That's when Arup Chanda, another ex-colleague and a lover of dogs (his own pet died a year ago in Delhi), calls up to know the status.
He has been one guiding me on once Zack has breathed his last. "Hold back. Don't break down," he advises. Like a tiny tot from whose hands its beloved toy has been snatched away a few moments ago by another person, I weep uncontrollably.
Wife joins to assuage me. The passengers try to cheer me up in vain.
I remain silent till reaching Delhi border.
Back home, it is emptiness. As I open the door, I break down again. Zack, that used to rush out to greet me, is no longer to repeat that act. It will NEVER happen.
Daughter has gone to see off her friends and wife consoles me again.
I look at the leash lying in the corner. I look at the bowl. I look at the white plastic ball near the shoe rack. I look at the small mat. I look at the paper bags with Pet food written in bold letters.
I must tell my daughter to paint a huge canvas of Zack and mount it. On second thoughts, I decided not to. I must forget him as early as possible. Otherwise, I will be in perpetual hell.
It is the same trick I did to overcome my mother's death 14 years ago. I removed every conceivable object that would remind me of her in my surrounding. Cruel? Not at all.
She lives in my memory. Likewise, Zack will.
Goodbye, Zack!
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