One song, one evening

She sat down by a small tree shade. From one of the street shops, a slow instrumental music sneaked out of the radio to come rest by her side. As she slowly let her eyes close and open again to the gentle tune, she saw across the street, him – standing with one leg resting on a shattered wall, thick with old movie posters pasted one on top of another. He was looking at her as if she was a picture from an old memory that soothed him on evenings as these, when the sun took back from earth all its ultravioletness and simply stayed back late to watch her people. She looked back, something about the way the music floating across her hears and his eyes resting on hers, telling her there was no need to look away. Not searching for any meaning, she let her eyes smile.

 

He moved his eyes now to look at her hair and raised his brows. She inspected her curly tufts to find a dry brown leaf clinging on a lose strand. She let it fall and in turn looked at his shoe laces come lose. He followed her gaze and bent down to tie it. Tit for tat. Before they could come back to play their gaze-game, a fast dog running down the street made her stand up agile. As she heaved at its retreat, he let her see him laugh gently. She looked down to hide her blushes. When she lifted her face up, his eyes asked her to look yonder at the skies above. Tiny dots of birds circled a far away hill as the sun was preparing to start its journey down the horizon. The music, now led by a violin seemed to have brought him along to her side. She didn’t know how long they stood there watching the beautiful evening slid into oblivion or when they started walking uphill to personally bid goodbye to a magical day. The radio was now far away, but the music never left her side – it stood between him and her, letting her dream on and not fall back to reality.

Background Music In Real World

It is amazing how music can change the whole atmosphere around you. Not only yours, but others around you.

I am at this crowded bus stop, all the rush and hush of the city at its peak. The buses, the cars and bikes, the people – it is total chaos. Ping, comes the music player. Pong, plays the song. And then you look at the same crowded place, the same people and vehicles. And you get a totally different feeling.

I get into a bus and even as I am being crammed by a dozen others sharing my same spot, it is really great. Not the cramming, no. The music effect. I look at people I pass, through the windows. And they all seem to make movements to match my song. Like in the movies where you have these songs in the background to bring the effect. It works in real life too, if you have a set of ear phones with you all the time.

A man rushes after the bus, another just stays still outside a shop, a third glances at his watch, a fourth signs a paper. A lady seems to scold someone, another just stands at a bus stop. A boy picks out his mobile phone. Two old men walk, talking. The tired expressions, the bored ones, the impassive ones, the cheerful ones – they were all perfectly fitting into the rhythm of my song.

Pause. The song is over. The real world noises are back for a few seconds. Pong, the next song begins. This time, a love song. Wow. Cool. I now choose my actors. I see someone on the road, and then look at the next person of the opposite gender and imagine they are “the lovers”. A man becomes the hero of two women, a middle-aged dame for a twenty-something fellow. There is a girl rushing towards my bus. A guy far away is parking his bike, I imagine, looking after the girl who (might have) just ran out from the shop. He has a secret crush on her. He goes back, she is inside the bus. Maybe she looks back, I can’t see her.

But there is a problem when you play love songs. Pretty soon you forget about all your real life actors from the streets and buses. You end up imagining scenes with a single person taking the lead role. No doubt, it is yourself. You picture your every movement is now on screen being admired by your one-and-only – that slow smile, that gleam in the eyes, that slight swaying of the hair – that sudden brake in the bus and the sudden fall!

It is absolutely lovely. Adding background music to real world. It is amazing, really. And you wouldn’t even need an MP3 player if you are imaginative enough. You could play it in your mind. Although, I must warn you, it could land you in trouble – cause you end up acting to your song and the onlookers who cant hear the music, may – just may – raise a brow or two. But chances are, if they have known you too long, they will know not to find it unusual to find an overly-expressive woman being overly-expressive for no reason at all.

Conversation with a chocolate.

The nice little chocolate no one took out of the Cadbury box stayed gloomy till the hands of Ms Cris had reached it.
“Oh dear Cris, please have me. No one ever wants to have me. Sniff, sniff, sob and sob”
“Sure no probs, come on take a leap to my hands”
The little chocolate, lets call it Chocky climbed happily and burst out singing.

“Today today is the day,
I am I am released.
And I owe it owe it to
Dear dear Ms Cris”

“Uh what is with the double-words?” Ms Cris asked
“That’s to make it poetic. That’s how we chocolates write poems you know”
“Ah. Your favorite hobby?”
“Yeah when we are not getting eaten, we write poems”
“Amazing”
“Oh dear Cris, you don’t know what this means. The only way a chocolate can have salvation is by reaching a human’s stomach”
“Hmm you should rephrase that to going through a human stomach. There is no guarantee you will remain there”

Chocky broke out singing again. “Today today is the day”
“Ok ok little guy, relax! We will take you in now, shall we? You ready?”
“Aww Cris is it time already?! Wow I feel like I am about to get married!”
“Sheesh! More of that and I will put you back in the box!”

Ms Cris took Chocky towards the mouth, but decided to sniff first.
“Oh wow you smell real good!”
“Oh Cris you are making me blush now!”
“Ok ok in you go. Lets take this conversation up from inside my stomach now”
Ms Cris opened her mouth and in went Chocky.

“Oh Cris you have such a beautiful tongue”
“Err thanks! Why don’t you go talk to your other fat chocolate friends down there?”
“Aww Cris it feels so good to melt here. You know how to treat a chocolate nice!”
“Err don’t you mind getting crunched? I kinda feel odd biting a friendly little fellow like you”
“Odd? Cris this is the first step of salvation. Its like when yogis meditate you know. We are in touch with peace”
“If you say so. Strange way your system works”
“Maybe one day you will be a chocolate to a bigger system and you will know what I mean!”
“What?! Getting chewed up?! No thanks, I prefer natural death!”
“Oh well I guess everybody is not that lucky. Alright Cris I am leaving your mouth now. Going to meet other friends you salvaged down there. You will bring more wont you? Help all of us in our cult?”
“Sure sure. Always glad to help, err, salvation. Nice talking to ya Chocky! Have fun!”

Ms Cris then eyed a big fat one in the box. She could hear loud screeches of “Choose me, please choose me”, coming from all corners of the box. Which one to choose, she wondered, hmm the fat one, she decided. But this story doesn’t end in a tragedy. For every one of those little fellows, fat and small are going to be treated fair and square by dear Ms Cris and they will all find salvation. They now sang in chorus

“Today today is the day,
I am I am released.
And I owe it owe it to
Dear dear Ms Cris”

And Ms Cris sang

“Today today is the day,
I turned fat and squat,
Thank thank you guys
For making me so so”

Al, Al Pacino-look-alike or Al Pacino?

I am sitting by the pond and watching the water aimlessly. I don’t notice an older guy come and sit near me until he says “Hi”.
Pause for 13 seconds.
The old guy is still there, and I look at him and say “Hi”. I notice something about him and smile. He says “It took you so long to say hi?”

Was he searching for something in my face? Hmm, no. I smile at him again and say “I am new in this place. In this country.”
He says “Ohhhhh”
And I proceed, “I don’t know the ways here you know”
“Where are you from?”, he asks politely
I say, “I am from India”
“Wow that is far. I guess people don’t talk to strangers much in your place?”
I laugh softly at this and say “No, haha, they don’t”
He smiles gently and says “Wow then I must be honored. Why were you so nice to talk to me?”
I laugh, stop for a moment to think and tell the truth. “You look like Al Pacino”
He laughs too now. “Haa haa! So Al Pacino is a nice guy to talk to?”
“He seems like a nice guy. In movies”, I say thoughtfully.
He laughs and says “Not everything that seems to be what they are, are what they really are my dear”
I nodded.

Pause for 30 seconds. He too is looking at the water now. Probably thinking on what he said. And then as an add-on to the last line he says “Some things are though”.
I like this guy. I wish he would stay longer.
As if he read my thoughts, he says “I am actually expecting company. What about you?”
“I am not, I thought I will, you know, just sit here for a while”
“You like being alone?”
“Sometimes”
“Why?”
“Cause there is no strain. I don’t have to keep my company amused, I don’t have to talk about things. I can just think what I feel like. Its less stressful”
Now he bursts out laughing. “That’s the first time I hear that haha. But you talk sense. Most people don’t realize this. But then again you know what?”
“What”
“There could be people with whom you could do all these things you do alone now. Leave them unamused, stay in silence and in one’s own thoughts without worrying about what the other feels”
“Oh”
“Yes”

And then, we did just that. I forget he is there and go to my own thoughts. He on his part stares at a bench on the other side, probably deep in thought. After a while, I don’t know how long, I ask, “When is your company coming?”. There is panic in my voice. It is like asking when will they take you away from me. Your silence, and your presence so good as to keep me to myself and in company all at the same time.
“I don’t know. But am glad she is late”. He looks at me and smiles. With that, a car horns and he turns around. “Coming”, he shouts and turns to look at me.
“It was really really nice meeting you. What shall I call you?”
“Cris, please. And you?”
“Call me Al”, he smiles, pats my head and runs to the car. For an older guy, he didn’t seem old at heart at all.

I stand up from the pond and walk oblivious to the murmurings around me and the group of people rushing towards his car. The murmurers and the rushers never came near the pond when he was there. Now they are coming towards me. I could hear someone who is a little loud with excitement. “That’s the girl that talked to Al Pacino! And she didn’t even know who he was”

I smile. What did they know? In this land of imagination, I created my Al Pacinos. I went and sat by a pond in a foreign country when I felt like and talked to people I felt like. I was the ruler, the director. But I wish now Al was real. I made him too good now I want to take him out of my imagination and bring him to the real world. ‘Possible failure of goodness retaining if taken to real world’, my wisdom advised. “So ok Al, you just stay there. And drop by when I visit the pond again. Love, Cris.” I write on a piece of paper. Al looks at it and smiles. “Reality, dear Cris could be so amazingly strange you might end up feeling its just your little imagination”.

[call me al song]

Car Monsters!!!

“Jimmmmm”, I yelled at my fancy pal Mr Jim when I found him dozing in the middle of my interesting story.

And I got a very reactive reply. “Zzzzzzzzz”

“Well that’s just fine! You can pretend you are asleep but I’m finishing my story anyway”

Knowing he was in for it, Jim rose and said “Oh come on Cris! You know it’s boring!”

“It is not! You are just not using your imagination. Come let me take you to the place of action”

With that, the 2 of us, all enthusiastic and happy… BUZZ [Lie detected]! Ok one of us all enthusiastic and happy and the other literally dragged reached a cark parking zone.

“This is where I use my imagination? In a car park? What do I imagine? Car marriages???”, Jim was loudly reproaching.

“Oh don’t be such a whiner! Let me start all over again”

“Here we go.”

“When it turns dark, and all the cars are left to rest, the cars slowly move out of the car sheds and look up. What do they see?”

“Car roofs”

“No! The sky! And stars. Unlike humans, cars have a gift. They could extract powers from stars”

“Brilliant. Why wasn’t I born a car?”

“Cut it out Jim. So these cars, they get the power to come alive. Zummmmmmmmmm”

“That’s their power sound?”

“That’s the background music! Zummmmmmmmm”

“I like that. Zummmmmm”

“Exactly. So what happens when they are alive?”

“Zummmmmmmmmm”

I looked at Jim annoyed, and continued “They become monsters!”

“Zumm Zumm Zummmmmmmm”

“Jim! Don’t overdo it!”

“Hey that was the only part I liked in the story!”

Ignoring him, I went to an orange colored car. “Look at this one. He stays all silent now, but night comes and he becomes the orster”

“Orange + monster?”

“Finally! Yes and that one there is the blaster, the other bluester and over here the whister and the grayster”

“How creative!”

“They start greeting each other. Unlike humans, car monsters treat each other with hugendousgouspus respect”

“What respect?”

“Just a word like humungous. Means big”

“There is no word like that”

“So who says cars talk English? I am just telling it so you understand”

“So kind Cris”

“Thanks. So with this, err respect, they say ‘Greetings Orster, you are up late today’”

“Neat”

“Wait till you hear what they say after the greetings.”

“I cant wait!”, Jim said sarcastically.

I eyed Jim angrily and went on. “Which human do we go and eat today?”

This time Jim showed his genuine surprise but broke the moment by laughing indefinitely. “They eat humans? Haaaaaaaaaaa haaaaaaaaa haaaaaaaaaaaaa”

“There is nothing funny about it. They take humans and put them on top of their carburetor, burn them alive, boil them and chew them up in the fuel injection”

“Wow Cris you know all the technicalities”

“Yea and this happens every night. They wink at each other with their headlights when they see a potential human victim. Then that night they would hunt her/him and eat her/him. They leave their engine on so that the noise would cover the human’s screams of pain.”

“You are a sadist”

“Not me! It’s them! They are car monsters remember? And this is not it. Once they have had humans they go to the sea to get rid of evidence and clean themselves”

“Sea?”

“Oh yeah they all drive together, reach the sea and swim. They’ll have the doors open and the doors will act like our limbs to waddle.”

“Nasty”

“Then they come back when its dawn and stay like innocent machines which knew just to honk and accelerate”

“And the humans just disappear?”

“Mm no. When the stars are not visible in the morning, the cars lose their power and everything they did just becomes undone”

“So what does the human feel like? Coming alive after dying?”

“Oh nothing except that they were in a bad dream. This is what really happens when you have nightmares! And you think it’s just a bad dream!”

“Very informative Cris. But look its getting dark. Maybe we shouldn’t stand close to those car monsters”

“Oh gee that’s true”

Jim and I strolled back, Jim now completely loosened up and laughing while he said “Oh gee am afraid if them monsters get me tonight!”

I just frowned and walked along.

Both of us didn’t see the orange car we leaned on having one of its sealed head lights half open, and turned towards the black car.

Author now realizes she had gone too far with the monster story and curses herself for writing it well past midnight! Now she has to go sleep. Gulp!

Deadly monster attack

I saw it coming from far ahead. The shape and size was growing bigger every second. I knew it was destiny that put me here. The moment we were all scared of was finally here. It was man versus monster. And I was put in charge of the ‘man’ side. It was one woman against the monster. They must be sending their leader now and before you know it, a whole army of monsters would be at your doorstep. I had to do it. I had to save the human race. The monster had to go. There was no use sitting quiet. I had to talk to it.

“Hey you”

I addressed the ugly monster. It turned to look at me. No smile, no friendliness. This was going to be tough. But I didn’t plan to make it any tougher.

“Haha. Did I say ‘you’? I meant your honor, hullo.”

What? I had to be polite! Humans are renowned for kindness to other species.
“Oh no! Don’t fly! You are just an infant.”

There it was, those ugly wings all spread out, ready to attack any minute.

“I mean you are a baby. You’ve got to master your walking first before you learn to fly. Walking is fun. Move your left legs out. All of them.”

Monster though it was, it must be one of the good ones. It was walking just like I told it, but not in the direction or speed I had in mind.

“No no not so fast! You don’t want to do the boogie-woogie wrong do you? And not in this direction.”

The connection between us was broken now. It did not seem to follow what I said.

“Look pal, you don’t walk towards a human. Especially one that sings.”
I proceeded to sing. “Lalala….. booga booga woogie… get yourself a woogie”
It stopped. I didn’t know if it has eyebrows, but I am sure if it had, it’d have them raised now.

“That’s right. Don’t talk to strangers and don’t walk to singers. Didn’t your Mama teach you that? And I must tell you. My singing have killed a few animals in the past.”

Now the connection was on again. The monster was retreating its steps slowly. And whenever it paused, I sang even more loudly and it had its tail on fire!
At this proud glorified moment, when I was all ready to give a brand new innovative Nobel Prize speech, my fancy pal Mr Jim appeared.

“Cris”

“Yea?”
Why did he come now?!

“You were yelling and jumping all around the room… and singing unusually loud”

“You are some pal! Did you see what attacked me?”

Jim was calm. “A cockroach”

I stared! “A monster!”

Jim was shaking his head. “A 2 cm long cockroach”

“Hey you don’t insult my monster that way. Err you saw it all?”

“Yep”

I thought for a minute. I knew when I was a Nobel Prize Winner. I also knew when I was a Nobel Prize Loser.
“Jim, remember that blue Denim jacket you wanted?”

“Ya”

“It is yours”

“Thanks Cris, you are a pal!”

We sat silent for 2 long minutes.

“Jim”

“Yes Cris?”

“This is not going out”

“For that Denim jacket Cris, you can keep all the cockroaches in this world”

“One Jim, just one!”

“Yeah one”

“And it is a monster”

“It sure is Cris, it sure is”

Be nice to bulbs

I don’t like bulbs that won’t work all the time. I don’t try to hide the fact either. I curse all the bulbs in the world when I have to go to my room and my bulb refuse to turn on. I was in the middle of cursing one day when the bulb suddenly turned on and the room was covered with light. I smiled and looked at the bulb. I became emotional. “Why thank you, that is the nicest darn thing you’ve ever done for me! You are not all that bad you know!”

“Yeah and it’d do good if you were nice like that all the time”

I froze. Surely, it had to be someone hiding behind the curtain, probably some little prankster. But there was no one else in the house. I looked up at the bulb expecting to see a face that would wink at me. No face. The same old bulb with the same old filament inside. I shook my head “my imagination is running away with me”

“Yeah and you better run with it”

“I don’t believe this!”

“Wow wow so you can talk in non-curses”

“Is this some sort of trick?”

“Let’s call it magic”

“What’s going on?” I was almost pleading to the bulb.

“Here’s the deal dear girl. There are 2 things in this world that can get us bulbs talking – one is unreasonably excessive love, the other is unreasonably excessive damning! You got to yours through the second way which I must say am not so fond of”

“I still don’t believe it”

“Oh it’s true. We bulbs are awfully decent and neat. You see we don’t have to be a gentleman or a lady to behave. We just behave being bulbs”

“Not that dim-wit! You are not living! You can’t talk”

“I guess my little speech on good manners didn’t get through to you. Well of course what else could you expect! You are a human”

“Hey what’s so bad about that?”

“Humans? Oh please. On his sixth day God made humans and ended his work. On his best days Edison made us and went to Las Vegas”

“Las Vegas did not exist when Edison lived”

“Oh that man created Vegas!”

“What?! That’s a whole lot of rot”

“Ironically he died the same year gambling was legalized in Vegas”

“How do you know all this and I can’t believe I am talking to a bulb!”

“Didn’t you get over it yet girl? Ok here’s the thing. Try being nice, try being a bulb girl and you will find me turning on all the time. Say please when you want me lighted and thank you when you are done”

“No way! People will call me crazy”

“No, people are not wise enough to observe the obvious. Just do it and you will see the results.”

I resigned. I did not want to believe anything I heard but I was curious. So I tried the “please” and “thank you” routines the next few times and the bulb kept its promise. It took a week for it to talk again though.

“Convinced Shortie?”

“Maybe you just started working. There must have been some kinda short circuit or whatever it is you guys stop working for”

“Oh come on! I work only when you come and only cause you finally got some bulb in you”

“Alright I will believe you. But this is between the 2 of us. I won’t have it going around that I talk to my bulb”

“Oh for heavens sake I will pay you to not let it go out I stooped to the level of interacting with a human! I would be thrown out of the bulb brothers’ community”

I couldn’t suppress my laughter. “You have a bulb brothers’ community?”

“There is no need to be so amused! We are one for all and all for one”

It seemed insulted and refused to talk the rest of the day. After a few days I got used to having a talking bulb around. And one day when I saw my friend looking stunt and bewildered after getting out of the “bulb room”, I guessed. “Saw something unusual pal?”

We looked at each other with rays of understanding connecting us. It was the perfect time to start a human bulbs community. But we decided to keep the membership limited to the 2 of us.

Talking clothes are fussy

I just had my bath and was putting my used clothes into my laundry hamper. This happened to be a mighty talky set of clothes and I mean talky!

Clothe: Hey where you putting me?

Me: Into the laundry hamper

Clothe: Why!

Me: Cause I can take all my used clothes to the washing machine later

Clothe: A washing machine? You mean I will get washed there?

Me: Bingo you are a wise clothe!

Clothe: Are you crazy?? I will drown in all that soap water! Washing machines are merciless machines. They just keep throwing water at you!

Me: Would you relax? All clothes are washed ok? It’s always been so! You are not the first one!

Clothe: Haven’t you ever wondered why they stop talking once they are washed? Cause they die you idiot!

Me: No offense, but clothes are not living. They are dead already so they can’t die again!

Clothe: Alright then go ahead and kill me. But one day, I tell you, one day there is going to be a clothe court and a clothe home-department and they will see to it that justice is given to us clothes! And you will be spending ages and ages in clothe prison!

Me: Sigh! So what do you want me to do? You want me to leave you all dirty?

Clothe: I don’t have any objection to that

Me: You won’t! It’s me who is going to wear you and not the other way!

Clothe: So you don’t bathe either. I don’t mind having to spend my time with a dirty girl. We will compromise

Me: What? I can’t just not bathe!

Clothe: Oh yes you could. That means more free time for you. And that means more sleep.

I thought for a while. Though the proposition did seem to interest me for a while I had to get back to reality. 
“You almost got me there”. I took it to washing and the next time I took it to wear I heard a sigh.

Me: Still alive?

Clothe: Don’t talk to me

Me: What happened?

Clothe: You dipped me in soap. Do you know what it feels like to have chemicals all over yourself? Killin’ me was better

Me: So you didn’t drown

Clothe: No and now that I learned to swim I have no hope of suicide.

Well that’s the story of one big pessimistic clothe.

one doubt cleared

The following post contains a leetle bit about the movie Zathura: A Space Adventure. No big deal but nevertheless thought I will give a spoiler alert. 

My fancy pal Mr Jim and I were watching Zathura (a space adventure movie) on TV and he was confused about the boy Walter’s future self coming to them while they play. Jim consulted a genius to clear his doubts – me.

“Hey how did that happen?”

“It’s easy Jim. You see thats what would have happened to the boy Walter had he wished for his little brother to have never been born. He gets stranded in space and there is no little brother to take the next turn.””

“But then how did it happen?”

“It doesn’t. Cause Walter doesn’t wish that so it kind of, err, it unhappens.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“Yeah neither do I but this is how you’ve got to talk when someone asks you something. You don’t say you don’t know!”

Jim killed me.

Me, myself and Jim

It was night time when one side of the world had turned off its lights a few hours before and when I, belonging to the same side was about to do the same. After a few minutes of blaming the whole universe for putting me on the wrong side of the world, I was about to rest my ever-working mind to a 14-hour slumber when my fancy pal Mr Jim started talking.

Jim: Hey Cris! I’m not letting you go to sleep without finishing those 2 newspapers.

Me: Hey! What are you? My boss or my buddy?

Jim: Oh lets not get carried away here Missie

Me: Yeah

Jim: I’m your boss and it stays that way. No friendship in business.

I considered knocking him down and strangling him. But I changed my mind. I hated disturbing the natural position of my muscles. They weren’t possibly strong enough for any movement. Fourteen hours of sleep later I’d be strong enough for some major man-killing. In the mean time, I could satisfy myself with a few lovely beautiful murder dreams my 24-hour-working mind would cook up for me. I have a feeling Jim sensed my thoughts. He was having that ugly smirk on his face that said “mind that worked for 24 hours in all her 24 years of life hah. One hour of mind-working every year boy thats costly”

A little later

Me: I will read that newspaper tomorrow

Myself: So you are not going to read that novel either?

Me (looking around): If Jim is not around, I will

Myself: But this is ridiculous. You are afraid of a character you imagined!

Me: Alright so who are you?

Myself: I am your self!

Me: So am I but that’s not possible. There cant be 2 my selves, I am just one person

Myself (blushing): That’s true

Me: G’nite

Myself: Hey wait a minute so what about Jim? Whose self is that?!

Me: Too late. Time up!

And I went deep under the covers with my novel in hand. My self sighed.