The memories from past....at a house of grief

Humankind suffers from a strange sense of insecurity and vulnerability. To forget his fragility he chooses the easier path- forget the reality. To get as far away from reality as possible he would indulge himself in anything to intoxicate his mind from thinking. Pretending to forget the reality, gives him a feeling of immortality.

Death has the capability to pull you back to reality. A grieving house may be the place where we realize we are still vulnerable and there is no enough earth available to protect our vulnerability. ‘Death’ after all is a major inconvenience!

It was this death that reminded me of an incident that happened long ago and thus prompted me to write this.

During the initial days of blogging I had a plan to write about the girls that crossed my path. But then it’s too common a topic and i dropped it. But as years go on uncalled for incidents add spice to your story and I feel this is the best time to write on Susan.

She was the member of one of the famous fashion show groups in the city. They were a group of bold, naughty girls who could send the men crazy. Once it so happened that a girl flashed her deep slit, it caused a near stampede and they had to cancel out the programme. It was a honour for the boys to go around claiming friendship with girls from the group. I, who was not popular among the female folk, was lucky to have a friend in Susan and I bragged about it a lot.

Then on that fateful night the villain came in the form of ‘Gmail chat’. I have never seen her online. That was the first time and last time I chatted ‘online’ with her. The talk meandered onto the recent fashion show she had done.

‘Hey you were really good on the ramp’
‘Good? What do you mean by good’
‘Something like………………………..hot’ (I had taken a gamble. Some girls do not take ‘hot’ nicely)
‘Lol….ok, Define hot!’ (I was getting excited. (The blood flow to the brain started slowing down. More went for the plant where testosterone is manufactured. I believed I was getting lucky)
‘You mean describe your body?’
‘Yea…’
‘Hmm.. your thighs are great. I love them. And I love your waist, face …..and…. ’
‘Okay Okay I know where are you getting onto. Thanks :D’

I went off to bed with heavy and starry dreams. May be I was getting lucky and would end up in the elite group who lost their virginity.

I woke up the early morning and hit my mail box. I found a ‘scrap’ from her on my ‘orkut scrapbook’. I excitedly logged in, cursing the slow internet connection. I couldn’t believe my eyes on seeing the ‘scrap’. I rubbed my eyes and had a look again. Did she mean it? It went something like this

‘How dare you tell me all those stuff you creep. I never imagined you could sink so low. Try telling that to your mother or sister!’

She wrote this in my public scrapbook. Some of my friends saw this. Thankfully they took it so maturedly and kept silent. I was spared from being the laughing stock at college. Even when I write this my nerves tingle with shame. That morning I felt tears welling up. I had very few female friends. What would those few think of me? For such a person getting humiliated by a woman was ….. I can’t get the right word. May be being disrobed in the public would be the right feeling.

I didn’t barge into her exclaiming ‘You have a great figure, babe!’ It was a mutual mistake. If there was one she had a part in it. I could have gone ballistic and gave her a dose of her own medicine. But I broke down and saw her personally to request for mercy. She did forgive. Now you’ll call me a prick. But that might have given me a first insight into women and how to treat a lady. As for the bad side, I grew vary of intimidating women. Yes, I fear women who crack a joke at me!

That was very long ago. We continued to chat and I had a great deal of respect for her! Then suddenly she cut off all kind of contacts and went away unannounced!

Then again years later I learnt that her dad was hospitalized with leukemia. I went for a visit. Both her parents were old and alone. I did piece together the story with the mother’s help. After long years of bareness her parents adopted her when she was 6-7 years old. By then they were well into middle age. She was quite obedient and nice girl. She was multi-faceted and extremely talented. She wanted to choose up a creative field as her Masters. The parents, old by now, didn’t want to let her go. They then gave up and she flew out to Mumbai where she fell in love with a colleague.

The father had a bit painful and sad end. By that time the mother’s words started giving a hint of helplessness of a lonely woman. She resigned to the fact that Susan was no longer her kid. Sometimes blood is thicker than water and paperwork doesn’t give us the belonging.
At the funeral home Susan went about arranging everything. She was smart and had her fiancé for company. The mother sat in a corner with welled up eyes. Susan didn’t show any sign of loss. She even cracked a joke with people who came to grieve. We couldn’t choose between laugh, smile, grin or tightened lips.

That day I looked at her, her fiancé, her mother. Life is so fragile. And so are relations.
Her fiancé and I share the same name. Don’t know if it’s just coincidence (*wink*)