STRANGE INTERPRETATIONS (SHORT STORY)
It was around four thirty in the evening and I was surfing through the internet, all alone, in our staff room. Then she entered in like a sprinter, though she is in the fag end of her thirties, still sparkling with beauty!
“Premji, have you seen my i-phone?”, selection-grade lecturer Sumangala asked me, panting.
“No Madam... I think... it was with you when you were in the class room.... You might have left it somewhere there.”
“Yes... Yes... I remember...”, she told while running back to the class room.
Her craze for electronic gadgets is notorious among us... i-pods... i-pads.... i-phones... Steve Jobs smiles from the heavens!
“Good Luck... Madam”, I cheered her and went back to browsing.
Ten minutes passed... No trace of her!
“Thanks God! I am so lucky”, Sumangala told herself while fondling her brand new i-phone, which was resting on the table top, unnoticed, on that elevated podium in front of the black board... She thanked God once again while closing the door. But, something stopped her... Silent cries of someone? She entered in once again. To her surprise, one teenage girl was sitting on the last bench crying noiselessly!
“Sandhya... why didn't you go home? Why are you crying like this?”, Sumangala asked her in panic.
The young girl, attractive but a bit dark, didn't give any answer and a minimum of one million thoughts passed through the teacher's mind...
“Did anyone try to....?”, Sumangala couldn't complete her question as she was so fed up of reading stories of sex abuse in dailies.
“No Madam”, at last the girl opened her mouth.
“Then why are you crying?”, Sumangala was getting angry.
“How can I tell that you Madam?”, the girl was so confused as she was completely aware of her teacher's short temper.
“Whatever it is, tell me now... just think that I am your mother”, Sumangala told calmly.
The young girl looked into her eyes for a moment to retrieve courage.
“Madam... he ditched me...”, Sandhya hugged her tightly. “He now moves around with a junior girl... he betrayed me brutally....”, she started crying aloud. “I don't want to live anymore.... I am so insulted....”
“Calm down... Sandhya... Calm down....”, Sumangala wiped her tears. “Now, come with me... I will drop you home”
Sandhya's home is around twenty kilometers away from her college and she was totally silent during the journey. Sumangala was busy counseling her while driving carefully.
“Sandhya... Never focus on your problems, my kid... Focus on your possibilities.... The problems will pull you down.... The possibilities will push you up... Do you understand?”
“Sorry Madam... I didn't understand”, Sandhya said.
“O.K.... Let me tell you a story... Once there was a young girl like you... She too fell in love with a handsome boy and loved him so deep... One day, he was attracted by another girl, richer than her... Then she thought of committing suicide... Fortunately, she was not successful in her attempt... Her hostel matron saved her in time... She only told her the above lines as an advice... Do you understand now?”, Sumangala shifted the gears and car started running fast through the empty road.
“Yes Madam... What is she doing now?”
“Driving the car!”
“Madam!”, Sandhya couldn't believe her ears.
“Yes... I concentrated all my energy in studies... I got a wonderful job... I got married to a wonderful well educated man... I have two wonderful kids... I am so happy... Now, do you understand what I mean to say?”
“Yes Madam...”, Sandhya was fully charged up like an Apple i-phone battery! “That's my home”, she pointed towards a small house.
Sumangala stopped the car right in front of her house.
“Madam... please have a cup of coffee from my home”, Sandhya pleaded.
“Not today Sandhya... My kids are waiting outside of our home”, Sumangala smiled.
“O.K. Madam... I understand”, Sandhya held her hands for some time... “Thank you Madam... Thanks a lot”, actually she wanted to kiss her face.
“Sandhya... See you tomorrow... bye”, she drove away.
Sandhya stood there watching the car moving away very fast. The colourful rays evening Sun painted extra hue on her lovely face.
“I am destined to win”, she told herself confidently.
“Premji... I will engage your first hour today”, Sumangala told me on the next day morning.
“O.K... but... there is a small problem... I won't be able to engage your hour... I have to engage another class at that time”
“Don't worry... I will manage that”, Sumangala told happily.
“O.K... then”, I logged in to poetfreak.com
She returned back within two minutes.
“Premji, please come with me... we have to go out for some time”
Sandhya was lying on the hospital bed with pale face, eyes closed. Her parents were sitting next to her with empty eyes.
“What happened?”, Sumangala asked the young nurse.
“She cut her veins... We had to give her three bottle- ful of blood...”
I could sense the contempt in her voice. Sandhya opened her eyes listening to Sumangala's voice.
“Sandhya, why did you do this?”, Sumangala tried to modulate her voice, though she was burning with anger.
“I am sorry Madam... I was trying, all night, to get an answer, Madam.... If he could ditch such a beauty like you, then what will be the fate of me!”
Sumangala stood there motionless, like struck by a lightening! Sandhya's boyfriend entered in like a convict sentenced for life. Guilt, killed the charm of his face. One second, their eyes met. Poor girl had still faith on him.
“Sandhya... meet your brother...”, Sumangala said loudly.
“Maadammmm?”, Sandhya couldn't understand.
“The blood... now runs through your veins partly belongs to him... He is your blood brother... not your lover now....”, she waked out very fast.
“Madam, why did you say like that?”, I asked while walking near the car.
“Premji... you can influence people only in two ways... either by showing the positives and pumping so much of energy into them... or by simply demolishing their mind brutally!”
“But... it's cruel!”
“You... silly writer... what do you know about life? Cruelty can also do wonders”, Sumangala teased me while cranking the engine. “Then, they will automatically try to find out their possibilities!”
@ * @ * @ * @
A story dedicated to Meggie Gultiano. She only made me write this story, through her latest poem ' Walk with me'! Thanks dear Meg!
picture courtesy
http://www.flickr.com/photos/clestrat/96466269/lightbox/
A fine message and please do not delay the publishing your book, I would like to see before I close my eyes.
"The problems will pull you down.... The possibilities will push you up... "Good message.
Riveting, fascinating bittersweet tale, beautifully rendered, poignantly realistic. What a lovely tribute to dear Meggie! Wow. What a thought-provoking story. Very interesting, and excellently told.
I am SO happy dear Meggie influenced you to write this wonderful story, dear Premji - it is outstanding in the wisdom it imparts to the reader in such a nice, peaceful way. Life can be so cruel sometimes and Love it's accomplice. At the time, it is so difficult to focus on the positive, the positive seems to be eroded by the negative and we are unable to see beyond the present moment which is not a good one. It take a lot more psychological and emotional strength to kill oneself than it does to live. Not everybody has that strength. I LOVE your stories, Premji. The always have a wonderful lesson for the reader. Excellent crafting! I so enjoyed reading. Thank you for sharing, dear friend. Blessings always......
Depression is disastrous. It is deep rooted. Negativety takes over. One has to be careful dealing with such cases. Recently in Mumbai a housewife, having an extra-marital affair, could not tolerate the suicide of her lover( whom he had seen herself jumping form a high rise) and went into acute depression trying to kill herself also. She is battling for life now. A good story bringing out fregility of human brain.
Your stories.... cunningly sweet hiding /hinting the (bitter) truths of life!
thanks for the dedication of this beautiful story, Premji. I am very proud of your achievemnets.Compared to you, I am just a simple scribbler.Thanks a lot!!
Yeah that is one good stroy Premji.
Good Story Premji..I am sure Meggie will be delighted with the dedication..
Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi was insulted during a train journey in his early days in SA...He rose to raise a movement that brought freedom to slaving millions...nice story Premji...you convey your message cleverly in this write- a message good
Good story dear friend, I know the shade of skin should not be the issue any more.. It may be hard to fight prejudice with self .. The little girl needed to learn that love could have all colours.. Also loved these lines:"you can influence people only in two ways... either by showing the positives and pumping so much of energy into them... or by simply demolishing their mind brutally!”It was a delight to read this, thank you!