Story of a lost journalist

September 21, 2007

Me aged 18. A conversation with Dad.

Filed under: Fiction — Cris @ 20:34

Me: “Dad, I think I am ready”
Dad: “Err? Oh have a nice day at school dear”
Me (groaning): “Dad I finished school an year ago. I happen to be a major as per our country rules and in case you forgot, I am doing my graduation”
Dad: “Ahh… school and college… its all the same once you have reached my age dear. I mean its all just happy no-worry childhood days”

I rolled my eyes harder than I should but this was a shocking piece of news! And coming from your Dad it proved no better! Infact it was not at all encouraging to tell him what I wanted to!
“Childhood! You call 18 years and 2 months childhood?!”
“To a man of 48 it certainly seems that way. And you will always be my little child”
He smiled and patted my head affectionately. Normally I’d count this moment as one of those special Father-Daughter moments but a touchy father was harder to talk to and less understanding!

I prayed hard and said again “Dad I am ready. And its not for college”
Dad raised his eyebrows.
“You are not getting a scooter! Finish college first!”
“Its not that”
“If its a computer, I have plans to get you one but it will take some time”
“Dad! Listen to me! I am ready to….ge…get….ma…ma…married”
There! I said it! Slowly so he’d follow my words. Not cause I was scared.

His reaction wasnt exactly the best I could hope for.
He blinked, stared at me and burst out laughing.
“Its still March dear you got the date wrong. Hahahaha”
Now I know what rolling on floor laughing looked like. My Dad proved an expert at it.
But I was not in a position to admire his hidden talents.
“If you would be kind enough to stand on 2 feet and listen to me”,I said in a cold voice, “I should like to remind you that the Indian law says a woman, I repeat, a woman who has turned 18 has every right to marry a man of 21 years or older”

“I am impressed” Dad managed to say between laughing “you know your Civics”
“Please Dad I am a grown up woman now. Take me seriously”
“Alright alright. So who is it”
“Who is what?”
“The man! You know the rules. If you want to get married there should be a willing man of age. Willing man of age… hahaha… I am good at this”
“You will find one of course!”
“Thats what Dads do remember? They find men for their daughters. Now I am not that demanding. So am not gonna tell you I want him to look like John Stamos but in case you could find someone like that, do keep your eyes open wont you Dad”
“How on earth did you get this in your head now!”
“Well technically, I just saw a movie and well it seemed nice”
“What seemed nice”
“Marriage Dad! Theres this person whos gonna live in your house with you! An entirely new person! Think about it Dad!”
“Thanks for pointing that out dear. Very informative that. So thats why your mother opens the door every time I come home. She lives here!”
“Ho ho ho! Very funny Dad! Why wont you just take me seriously”
Now my Dad did look concerned. His humour bone seemed to be taking a break. He beckoned me to a chair next to him.
“Sit here. Tell me all”
“Dad. I told you. The movie was really nice. And when I thought about it, I am 18! I could do it too! Why waste time!”

He opened his mouth to say something. He shook his head the next minute and told me
“Ok dear. We will go ahead. What do you want me to do?”
“Find a good fella”, I said happily
“I will try the matrimonial column then shall I?”
“The matrimonial column? In the paper? Gee should we do that? I never liked it much”
“Hmm then we will talk to some marriage bureau.”
“Oh. Those people who carry a bag of photos?”
“Something like that yeah”

I thought for a long time. Well actually I thought for 1 minute. But I am a fast thinker. Never get confused. So was my decision.
“Yes honey?”
“I changed my mind. I think I might wait a bit”
“Oh. Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I still am mature and grown up and all that. But you know, maybe later”
“Oh yeah I understand”
The next minute Dad was proving his ROFL skills again. I had my suspecting powers alerted. Dad must have known all along he could get this out of my head if he just went along! Grown ups certainly are tricky! I waited for a minute trying to decide if a grown up woman did floor-rolling. As always I am a fast thinker. Next second, I joined him.

Disclaimer: The characters in this strip are entirely fictional! The one called “Me” is not me!

September 9, 2007

new-seat story

Filed under: Fiction — Cris @ 15:24

Life is so horrible. I was a happy man till yesterday. But now I am a man with a deep sorrow. A sorrow so deep I have to cry about it every other hour.
It aches my heart, every time I pass it. The place that gave me all my happiness in life. I tried not to think of it.

‘Like what you have got’, I told myself. Whats the use I never listen to anyone, not even myself. Moreover, I am a man with a broken heart. And men with broken hearts can never listen to a happy thought. They seek sadness. I am sure I would want to see Jack sinking in Titanic or read Romeo drinking the poison and killing himself. Because we share the same emotion. Jack, Romeo and me. We are heroes of sadness. We faced agony. We suffered. They both died and am as good as dead. What more can cause sadness to a man than ripping his favorite seat off him.

Yes, its true. They did it to me. They changed my seat, at my work-place. I was moved away. From the comforts of my non-visible, secretive, private, personal, lovely, beautiful, precious seat, they took me and put me in a public, completely visible place of 0% privacy.
Yup Jack, Mr R and me, we travel in the same boat. All beholders of great misery.

Today I visit my old place. I give it all respects of a death bed. I lay flowers by the side. I stand on my knees and pay respects. My poor dear ex-place.

But then life must move on. I have a picture of me sitting happily there before. I keep it in my current horrible place. Those are just happy memories now.
A man of deep sorrow, I have to rest for a long long time… unless… that pretty girl in blue dress takes the seat next to me. Shes heading towards this direction. She is … wow she looked at me and better, she smiled. I smiled back. I could see a new beginning.
Its like a rebirth.
“Excuse me, I am Catherine. Can you tell me how I can move my stuff. I am new here”
Woah. She spoke to me. She likes me. She loves me.
I looked up. I could see only white roof but I was sure somebody beyond that roof, somebody way up there likes me a lot.
Life is so sweet.

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