Broken things

Have you ever seen something break? No, I'm not talking about seeing an object intact and then the broken pieces. Have you seen it break? When, say a vase, is knocked off the table, have you noticed the moment it starts falling, unaware of it's fate? The quick fall followed by the moment when it touches the ground and realizes it's too late. The first sign of the cracks which quickly spreads and before you know it, right before you're eyes, it's in pieces.You could have done nothing. Or is it possible that you could have caught it mid air? Or put your palms on the floor right where it was going to fall to decrease the impact on it, thereby hurting your palms? It was all so slow, in hyper definition and all so fast at the same time. Its life has ended even before you realized that it was falling.

There is a word in Japanese - Kintsukuroi which means to repair with gold. It is the art of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer and understanding that piece is more beautiful for having been broken. Did you notice that the pieces are repaired with gold or silver which stand at Rs 3000/- and Rs 38/- per gram respectively? And if you type kintsukuroi in google, it only shows images of pottery mended with gold and hardly any with silver (I found none). Why does it take something so costly, not easily available to make the broken vase beautiful? Why can't I just put it together with Feviquik (super glue) and expect everyone to consider it beautiful? I can also paint over it, have a nice mural of some kind. But wait, that might mean I want to hide that it's broken. How many of us can afford gold? Not to forget all the instruments to mend the pot. Many of us will just replace the pot with a better one and for some of us, to whom the vase was special, we will sweep every piece of it from the floor, carefully cover it with paper and hide it in some corner of the loft hoping that someday, it will see daylight when things are better. Until then, all that's left are the memories, the stories that we will tell our guests when they spot the empty space and ask why there is nothing there. We'll say how it stayed with us for so many years, all the times it was almost broken and the last time it did; Only to see a day when we spot another one in the showroom and buy it. But will we have the heart to place the new vase in the same place or will we make some new place for this one?

Stage Fear.

I have done much worse. It simply cannot get worse. 

You have no idea. 

It cannot. It's okay, what's the worst that can happen? I forget a few sentences, jumble up words. It's not like I am going to go dumb. 

You're addressing the leaders today. You have never done this before. 

So? They are still people. And this is simply MC anyway. I can do it. I know. They picked me because they thought I was good enough. 

And you are you going to disappoint them all. Show them they have made a wrong choice. 

Shut up. They are settling down. I'll have my cue soon.

*Frantically goes through the lines to say*

"Good Evening everyone."

Shit. What was that sentence again?

*Small peak into the tiny paper crumbled in hand*

You weren't supposed to look and read.

I know.

*Manage to say a few words after a lot of stumbling*

Did they just notice how nervous I am? Was that look supposed to mean that?
Yes.

Oh my God. That's the General Manager of *Department*. The guy everyone looks up to. Did he just look at me like that?
Yes, he did.

You're not helping.

I am simply answering your questions.

*Try to disappear to the Sidelines*

What was I thinking? These are Global Leaders. Years of experience. All in one hall. What am I doing here? How did I get here? 

Luck. 

I am literally bringing down the IQ of this hall by my mere presence. What was I even thinking saying yes to this? Argh. These are people I will probably never ever get to meet. They are here, listening to me and I am screwing it up. 

Told you. You should have prepared better. 

You didn't tell me that and I know. I did prepare well. Well enough. I think. 

Clearly, it wasn't enough. 

It's okay, I'll do it better in the next half. 

*Tries to listen to the speaker*

Did he just say “cool guy”? Okay, so why did they make a huge fuss about all the words I had picked for the MC? These people read too much into the words. Thank god they aren’t here to see how badly I screwed up.

It went just like your first speech 6 years back.
I didn’t have to be reminded of that.
Remember how you repeated the same sentence over and over again for 5 minutes because you forgot all your other points?
I didn’t exactly repeat the same sentence. They were simply different angles to the topic. It was supposed to go like that.
Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that.
Moreover, that was 6 years back in front of all my classmates. Look at how far I have come. I have done a lot more than I would have imagined. I have come a really long way. Yes, there is a longer way to go but I did MC that big event in college last time.
It was in front of your juniors.
So? They videotaped it to be uploaded on YouTube! That’s huge. And I still did not mess it up.
*The speaker ends his speech*
That’s your cue.
Shit. I was supposed to go through the lines before I go to the stage. You distracted me.
I didn’t do anything.
*Speak a lot without stammering*
Hey! That wasn’t so bad.
*Speak some more.*
Okay, I am getting the hang of this.
*Mess up the order of names.*
Shit, that wasn’t the order.
*Mispronounces the names*

Oh my God. Who has names like that?
You should have gone through the names before. You haven’t prepared well enough.
Shit. I am done for.
When will this get over? I want to disappear from this place.
A little too late, don’t you think?

I don’t ever want to meet any of them ever again. Ever. God. How can someone screw up so badly?

Too bad. You have got leaders from all the Functions. Plus almost everyone from HR. Independent of where you go, they will remember you as the girl who messed up the MC that day.

Oh please, that’s just exaggeration.
You don’t think so?
I’m going to eat a Brownie with Ice cream and hide in my room.
You can’t hide forever. You’ll probably meet them tomorrow.
I will be sick tomorrow.

-Shreeji

Of late night rides and the light

It is 11 in the night and you're riding pillion on a pulsar. You don't have to worry if there is another vehicle trying to over take or if you're over speeding. You just gaze around. You're not reading any of the boards like you usually do. You're not trying to remember the road you passed through or the umpteen number of shops that are present. But you look around and notice something you can;t put your finger on. There aren't too many lights to spoil your vision. It's just the road and the age old street lights creating shades of amber on the road. The road is wet from the rain but not too wet for it to be slippery. The air is clean. You want to take it all in. You want to pack some of this and take it home because you don't know when you'll experience this again. You're on Kotturpuram road now and you notice for the first time that the entire stretch is covered with trees. You wonder why it is so hot during the day despite the trees. The rider is not too tall to hide your face and you can feel the air hitting your face. No, the air isn't gently caressing your face or ruffling your hair. It is ripping it from your head. You're going at a speed that disfigures your face a little. But there''s beauty in it. You're enjoying it. May be that's how flying feels like. You feel free for the first time. Yes, free. No fancy word there. Free.

- Shreeji

The fall

You have tainted my hands with your touch. I wish I never let you hold them like that when I was low. I vaguely remember trying to take my hands back but I vividly remember you holding it stronger. And I hate to say, but I liked it. Hell, I loved it. I was falling for you. Deeper. I thought I was falling with you. I always wanted to experience free fall. The adrenaline rush. The feeling of not having to control the fall and still enjoying it. Not having to control everything all the time. Like my life. I didn't think of the after effects. I didn't think there would be a ground at the bottom of it all. I thought I would keep falling, deeper and deeper. I was getting addicted to that feeling. I am addicted to that feeling. I don't know if I miss falling thinking I was falling with you or the feeling of just falling. I am too scared to fall again. What if there is a ground at the bottom of the fall? What if there is ground lower than the one last time? It would hurt much more. What if I once again find that the person I was falling with is missing when I try to get up. And worse, what if I find no one at all?

I see you have fallen again. I wish it was me falling with you this time as well. But it's alright. I am getting used to it. I hope you never find a ground this time. Finding a ground is nice. Gives you a firm foothold. Lets you control outcome. But not when you have already chosen the fall. I wish I hadn't chosen to fall. But I am happy it happened too. Yes, the wounds hurt. My hands got the worst of it. There are wounds all over. I don't know if I will be able to feel another person holding my hands anymore. But I hope I will. I hope I will find someone to hold them and never let go of them. And perhaps then, my wounds would have healed. And perhaps then, the scars will remind me not of the ground but of the fall.

-Shreeji

Unsaid words and broken promises

"But how can I be sure?" he asked looking out through the window. "Do you not trust me?" she asked him with a longing in her voice. 'Trust', the word echoed in her mind, She could still hear his voice saying, 'Trust is what you need in a relationship' and yet here she was having yet another quarrel with the man she thought she loved.

Silence filled the space between them and all she could hear was the rain outside which came cruel and hard, flooding the streets. She couldn't find anything beautiful in it anymore. The silence was suffocating her. She wanted to leave the place but she couldn't; not with the rain outside. She was tired of all the fighting. She didn't have it in her to fight the rain as well.

It had been three years since the last time she saw him. He was at the mandapam with a wide smile, trying his best to control the veshti he had worn. She had never seen him happier before. Not when his girlfriend accepted his proposal , not when he got the job he wanted and graduated with the rest of us, not when he got admission in the university he dreamed of and not when his girlfriend's parents accepted their union. He was eagerly looking at the stairs trying to hide his excitement so that his friends wouldn't make fun of him. He had absolutely no interest or involvement in the mantras he was repeating after the iyer. And when the iyer said "Ponna azhaichutu vango" his face lit brighter than the sun. He looked at the stairs, saw her and immediately turned towards the fire so that no one would notice his eagerness. But she did. When everyone else was looking at the bride, she saw him She knew the how much he loves her. She knew. If only she didn't, she would have told, but it was too late for all that now. That was the last time she met him. A hug, a will-miss-you and a keep in touch is all that she got. But she knew that as well. She knew there would come a day when both would  be too busy to have time for each other. Yet she wasn't ready when that day came. She would never be.

"You need nothing but trust in a relationship" he had told her while she was aimlessly gazing at the rain. It had been a beautiful evening and the weather was just perfect. They had an exam the next day and they were supposed to be studying, but not that day. She just wanted to sit there and take every second of the moment and listen to all that he had to share. He had just broken up with his girlfriend and was sharing his 'expertise' on the subject. She didn't need to know anything about relationships for she knew that everything would be alright for as long as he was around. She trusted him enough.

He was encouraging her to ask a guy out. If only he knew that she wanted to ask him out and not that junior with the charming smile. 'You don't need anything else.... It's just trust'. She wanted to tell him at that moment how much he meant to her but words failed her. She couldn't muster the courage, not a word, not a sound, not even a nod of confirmation. All she could do was listen and listen, she did, for the rest of her life.

Life after college was easier than she had imagined for the distance increased and the listening reduced. They didn't drift apart like all their other friends. A phone call once a month or if she was lucky, another call the same month. They made sure they took time for each other. She would listen to all his stories. He had promised to be there for her and he kept that promise. She always had his shoulders to cry on. She wondered if it would have been easier if he had broken his promise. It was all good until he told her he was in love again. And that this time, it was for real.

She told him how happy she was for him and all the things any friend would say. She tried to mean everything she said and in vain. He was too happy to notice that she didn't mean it. She couldn't recollect what happened after that. All that she could remember was work was becoming difficult, pressure from her family was mounting, all her girlfriends had married, some even had kids and before she could even think about marriage, there she was, draped in silk saree, adorned with all the jewels her parents could afford, and a getti melam to make it official.

"You got hitched before I did and I am the guy in love!", he said at her wedding. "Well, at least you found a nice guy and I am sure you both will hit it off well together.", said his girlfriend mocking at him.

She was thinking how different things would have been if she had told him. Would it have been better or worse? Was worse better than not having said at all? She wondered all the possibilities. And wonder, was all she could.

-Shreeji