Sad Songs and
Funny Stories
Introduction
I was scared as
I walked out of the kitchen, the glass window which was smeared with dust and
mud, threw a shadow of myself through the darkness and I got goose pimples. My thoughts immediately went back to those
torturous nights when I had been given to the temple, when I would run from my
own shadow, the brutality of the Mumbai brothels and nightmares that never
ended for years. I was just a little
girl then and when the memories came back they scalded me, there was nothing I
could do to hold them back.
Yesterday, he had purchased a cream roll for me and
we both had sat and eaten it the tea stall.
He told me about Macdonald’s at the big city, the lights and the crowd
and it turned me off, I knew what he meant by the lights, after all when you
have lived in the shadow of seedy rooms every night of your life for 10 years,
you would prefer to remain in the shadows too.
Suddenly, the whispers in the air had changed a
tone, the wickedness and cruelty came back, I saw once again the one who had
sold my dreams to the first in the queue.
I would have killed him if I met him again, I could hear him in the wind, was this what they
called the WhispeRing, soft words spoken of long ago and I told the whisperer
in my mind, “Yes I am waiting for you,” waiting to kill you.
“It’s
Just a Waste Of Time, coz no amount of rain washes away this pain.”
The Road Map to Freedom
I was scared too, after I heard from a neighbour of
this tale of Sefali Marik from the city of Magrahat, South 24 Paraganas
Village in West Bengal, her freedom could not bought with money, it had too
steep a price written on it, it bayed for blood and I saw it in the bloodshot
eyes of her husband this morning that if he to the WhispeRing he would
kill.
That’s when I
saw her, looking at the Bluebird who was had just come to sit on a branch with the Crows and the Mynas. Suddenly, in this quiet village, something had
changed, even the birds seemed to be whispering something to her.
“All the guru’s in the world couldn’t help once life had touched you,” she said to nobody in particular, still staring at the bluebird.
“I have just come from far far away,”
said the Bluebird and the Crow just said,
“Go back Go back, right now,”,
as the Myna looked up at him, stared and said,
“Wrong time, Wrong Time.”
Solar is a Lifestyle, every morning the Sun must
rise and the birds must sing, though if you listen closely, the song changes
every day because of your mood. The
birds and the trees, the bees and the ants and everything else nature had, came
with the systems that I sold, it was about connecting each part to his own everywhere
I went.
“Honey, You don’t know How Much
You Miss Your Papa Till He Is Gone.”
