Monday, April 03, 2006

The vision

A day like any other day of summer. The blazing sun burning my back as I prune a shrub in the small green patch - a favourite part of home. A bad gardener by birth, I work slower than usual, blame it on the sun or the rusting pair of 'garden scissors' (I still don't know what that scrap of a thing is called). Then, an errand. To fetch a pack of tea leaves from a shop not far away. A 50 rupee note pressed into my hand. I quickly tie up my hair and strut away to the store, marvelling at the neighbour's hibiscus shrub flaunting several red flowers, a feat the one back home never accomplished.

I walk straight, take a right and soon another right. A bunch of kids playing with a frisbee. A smile appears on my face as I recollect my exploitation of the summer vacation as a kid, vandalising the house, chopping Barbie's hair and smearing the doll with Mother's make-up. I smile again as a particularly chubby kid manages a difficult catch. There's something about that little boy that draws me towards him. He returns my smile, which makes me, if possible, more elated. I try to shake away the feeling, proceed to the shop and emerge a minute later, clutching a bag of lea leaves and the change.

A sudden increase in my heartbeat and a momentary gasp. I hear tyres screech to a halt and a piercing cry. A kid's voice. The kid's voice.

I go over, half running to the place i found the kids playing. The kids are chattering as though nothing has happened. It takes a moment for me to register the little boy jumping with joy. He has won a point for his team. What was it I heard then? Was the sun playing tricks on me? I take slow steps towards home. Slow but deliberate.

A minute later, I hear tyres screech to a halt. A thud. A pircing cry. A kid's voice. The kid's voice.

An utter state of shock and helplessness. I am immobilized. I do not have the courage to turn back. The sound of a car door being opened.

"You are not hurt, are you?". A shrill, worried voice. "You shouldn't play on the road like this. You could have got hurt". The same voice.

I turn back to see the boy standing still. There is a two-inch gap between a car and the boy. A lady gets into the car and zooms away. The boy picks up the frisbee and the game goes on, unaffected by the incident that just shook me.

The screech, the kid, the cry.

The vision.

As I reach home lost in thought, it would be just like my mother to point out that I had bought the wrong brand of tea leaves.

5 comments:

Raunak said...

Awesome, reminded me of my summer vacations back in the school days, when I used to fruitlessly design plane models with paper & cardboard creating tonnes of mess for my mom to clean ;)

btw, found ur blog page on Orkut
ciao, keep writing...

ReallyPosh said...

Hmmmm...interesting! Found your blog at orkut too..remember me?

shreyas said...

hmmm,
i hope you are not getting premonitions..hehe.

I really cant place your style of writing as of now....will probably identify wid ur flow of words after a couple more of essay type blogs...
i really suck at poetry appreciation,so no comments on tht.
overall a pretty good post.keep it coming

more exhaustive,in detail comments will take a lil more time,iam afraid.
check out my bro's blog(till the time i FINALLY create my own!!!)it rocks big time,mebbe u can siphon ideas from tht

pourush said...

u've got me hooked..for sure..sought this one at random, n it struck gold..glad u've got loads already posted..my evngz made i gues..

PS: i suck at gardening too..

Meghana Naidu said...

eh i loved this one! last line is Hilarious!!