Strange Unison

'Peacock green?'

'Yes!' she laughed.

'Hmmm... alright, let’s see... quarter to 12, sharp!'

She rushed to take a shower. It was going to be a special day. Salwar kameez, the reshmi dupatta, jhumke, kohl lined eyes, jhola, kolhapuri chappals and red lipstick... yes, she was going to stun him, capture his gaze, those deep black pools and make them thirst for more of her. She knew how exhilarating it was for him to drink in from her warm, coffee brown eyes. 'Ahh... the doe-eyed heart stealer', he'd exclaimed, kissing her lightly on her forehead as she lay there in his arms, smiling slightly.

She walked to him in gay abandon, her smile, laughter, her shining eyes, all for only him to see, only his to possess. He stood there leaning against the wall, tall, slim, lithe in his black kurta pajama.

He loved her in the peacock green kurta she had worn that day. A wink and he followed as she rushed to catch the next train to Chandni Chowk.

'Al-Jawahar?'

'Yessir.' smiles.

They always carried a book and earphones. Most of the people used to travelling did.

'So what are you reading?'

'Not something you'd like to read for sure! Tell me about yours?'

'Oh something, I’m sure you'd like to read!' back to their books, lost in their own, respective worlds.

The Chandni Chowk station was crowded as usual... queues everywhere. Flower and fruit sellers, old women in patched, slightly faded, colorful lehengas with the ghunghat covering their modest heads selling posters, small shops selling snacks, the bhelpuri wala churning up all the ingredients in a huge bowl and serving them to his hungry customers with his somewhat dirty, calloused hands, beggars, old, young, handicapped, on with their incessant plea for a few coins or some food to fill their bellies with, they saw it all in one, sweeping glance the moment they stepped out of the air conditioned underground station. They smiled at each other. This place held a charm of its own for them. She loved rickshaw rides, more so when with him. She loved when men stared at her and he stared back at them. She loved when women stole glances at him... she smiled more for he was hers. 

'Jama Masjid jaana hai humein.' the hot breeze blew loose strands of dark hair over her face. ‘Need help?' he smirked.
‘You think I do? For this... or that?'

‘The 'independent' male bashing feminist, huh?' he laughed.

'Do you even know what feminism means for God's sake? It's anything but bashing random males for no particular reason!'

'Touché! By the way did I ever tell you that you look even more beautiful when angry, with those eyes flashing fire, those quivering lips and that sweet chin?

'You sycophant! How I detest you!'

'I know you love me.' He smiled.

And with that smile, he took her breath away. She decidedly turned her head the other side. She did not want him to see the small smile playing around the corners of her mouth.

'You still think you need to hide?'

Mock incredulity almost always got on her nerves.

'Fuck you bitch!'

He laughed. 'Oh I love you so, beautiful.'

Chandni Chowk never failed to surprise them with its narrow lanes in which rickshaws, people, bikes moved with complete ease and synchronization, the completely, crazily tangled electric wires there which managed to work without any issues mishap caused by the overlapping magnetic fields, the utter mess and confusion in the innumerable, tiny shops clustered next to each other. She covered her head with her black dupatta. The sun glared down at them with full force. A beggar woman followed them.

'Khoobsurat ho... nikah kab hai? Jodi salamat rahe tum dono ki.'

She smiled and gave her a few coins. Awkward moment... she rarely blushed... she did, then. They sat in Al-Jawahar, ate and talked plenty and when they sat silent in the crowded, noisy room... they still talked. Science, traditions, diversity, politics, love, they talked of them all. No, they were not nihilistic, talking about anything and everything with an air of detachment and alienation about them... they simply stayed in awe, and in love with the world and everything in it, everything beautiful and seemingly ugly, weak and powerful, coherent and incoherent.

Phirni had to be one of the most delicious desserts she had ever pleased her taste buds with.

'And when the sweetness reaches your heart and pleases your senses, will you come with me to my secret haven? Will you drink with me to life?'

She looked deep into his eyes.

'Take me wherever you want to... jo chahte ho who sab dena chahti hun... bas tumhe.'

They took a rickshaw back to the station. They were talking, a jubilant she describing a rickshaw fall she'd had with her friends and survived.

'You know, we have company?'

She turned back in surprise. A toothless, small girl hid behind them  on the backseat. She signaled towards the rickshaw puller and placed a finger on her lips. When they reached the station, she noticed the kid slinking away. They walked on. Suddenly the little girl caught up with them and earnestly asked her to go with her to her home.

' Aap sundar ho. Chalo na, mere ghar chalo?'

He laughed.  ' Ghar toh mere ja rahi hai.'

The crestfallen kid smiled again when gifted with a bar of chocolate.

She gave him a sidelong glance and exclaimed, ' You are simply insane!!' He laughed harder.

He took her there... they drank to life, to love or as they knew it.... ' Plato said-’the troubles of mankind will never cease until either true and genuine philosophers attain political power or the ruler of states by some dispensation of providence become genuine philosophers.' Bring it down to a personal level. Isn't it true everywhere, at every level? Isn't it always the philosopher who can lead a better life if he stays connected with practicality? But then a slave girl laughed at Thales when he fell into a hole while studying the heavens. What if instead of leading you to noesis, protecting you, it pulls you deeper into the abyss of confusion where reality becomes a distant mirage... undecipherable and unattainable? How do I save myself from falling deep and losing my mind? What if I am too weak to differentiate between the ideal world and the crude, stinging truth of life?' she looked at him, confused, scared.

'I’ll never love you more than I do now... for I cannot do so without breaking from inside.'

She touched his face ever so lightly.

'Save me with your words, reasons, love, anything... but I need an answer to stay sane.

'He held her close, stroked her hair, his fingers combing her tresses.

‘This silence is your power... my shoulders the foundation of your life.'

She picked her head up and looked at him.

'Why should the foundation of my life depend on a mere mortal?'

'The ground beneath your feet does not need another mere mortal's strength to sustain balance... it is I who believe in us, I shall be your confidence, the stability you need in life as you are mine.'

He held her hand in his. She felt fearless, carefree, relieved... maybe the key lay in not going over and over again through this infinite loop of restraining and painstaking thoughts. She knew he would find her in the darkest of rooms without words, just an instinct for he recognized her heartbeat. She'd let him rescue her, love her. She'd let him be her strength, her lover… for now. She sighed and placed her head back on his shoulder. 

Plato and Michio Kaku lay in strange unison on the grassy ground nearby.

The Run

It was drizzling. The breeze caressed her face, eyelashes, eyelids, teasing them, coaxing them to open. It enveloped her in its cool softness. She liked sleeping better on such mornings. The birds had already started chirping. Their work for the day had begun. Their incessant, busy conversations were like music to her ears. Birds. She loved them. Not in cages, but in the trees, flying high in the endless blue sky. Someone had opened the windows. She did not remember who had done so, and when. She curled up snugly in her old, soft blanket. The dream had been beautiful. There had been so many colours, bubbles, butterflies, bees... was it a garden? Maybe the woods she was so used to wandering into in her dreams. It had been different this time.

The dream had become a routine... the tall trees, approaching darkness, a feeble attempt to run away from it... she was beautiful in her dreams... painfully so. The flaws, blemishes vanished... she was fairer, her hair longer, midnight blue. But her soul was darker, the pain magnified... had she traded the peace she had possessed for the beauty which had started haunting her very being? Could she run away from herself? From the voices screaming in her head, jeering at her, sharp arrows that pierced through her heart? She ran as fast as she could. She had to. She did not know why. A smile spread across her face. Her eyes shone brighter than ever… deep brown, warm in moonlight. The stars shone bright... jewels she wished to possess, and adorn her hair, slender neck with. But what would she have to trade for it? She had to find out. But for now, she had to run. She had spotted the small, growing spec of brightness.

Eos.

Would she take her in her arms and save her soul? She had to plead with her. She had to reach first, beyond the horizon. She could not. Ever. Darkness engulfed her before dawn. It pulled her down into a deep abyss from which there was not a way out. And then she would wake up, sweating, an irrational, terrible fear gnawing at her heart.

The cool fingers slid up her arms.

'What are you thinking?' he asked.

She jolted back to her hazy senses. She wondered why he always asked the same question.

'Nothing', she said.

'A 'blah' moment?' he asked, laughing.

She nodded, smiling. That was the way they talked. She rested her head on his shoulder. He was tall... and strong. She liked it. She liked the way he smelt… earthy, masculine. Giggles.

‘This alcohol's getting to my head.’

'I know', he laughed.

'You love me?' he asked.

She looked into his eyes. They were strange eyes, Jet black. How could she tell him whether she loved him? Once upon a time she'd thought she'd loved someone. Now, she did not know what love meant.

'Will you kill me if I say a no?'

'My madness does not permit me self annihilation'.

Lost again... She loved drinking with a silent companion, amidst nature. They stared at the limitless sky. Ideas, relationships, people... they talked about them all. No pretenses or lies interrupted this ablution and redressing of the drunken senses.

She got up, and ran. She was back in the dream. Thorns scratched her legs and arms. She kept running, still.

The urge was too strong. She could not stop herself even when she wanted to.  He called out her name. He was faster than her.

'Where do you think you are you going?'

'I don't know'.

He cupped her face with his long fingers and said, 'Listen to me, i know what you want and it’s not in there.’

'How do you know?' she asked.

‘Trust me. I know.’

'I still want to see.'

 He picked her up in his arms. She stared into his eyes. He drew her face closer to his and breathed her smell in, his lips touching her soft neck. A tremor of ecstatic pleasure ran down her spine.

'Put me down'.

He did. She swayed on her feet and tripped in his arms. The rustling sound of leaves pulled them out of the trance they had slipped into. They had never seen such big, wild animals.

'Herbivorous.'

'Big nevertheless.’

The shrill call of a peacock jarred their nerves.

'Run with me.’

'Yes.’

'Will you save me tonight?'

‘I will.'

Dusk approached... so did darkness... swift, stealthy. He took her hand in his and started moving. She turned back and smiled.

‘Let’s go.’

The dream stared back at her, ready to chase. She laughed, squeezed his hand and looked ahead, ready to run. She knew, she would be faster this time.