I couldn't move...

It was a rainy day. And as I walked from the muddy lane to the rain-wet pitched street,you came along.I had waited for you for six long days. 

You asked me a ride and  I agreed invariably. And through the lane,through streets and then on the highway,among the shower we rode along. A long way we had and it was only spring.Dreaming of the seasons,the months,the years we rode along.

I was scared. Scared of the speed,the speed breakers and the sudden brakes. But you made me hold you tight. Assured that we would never fall. " we will be going smooth dear"you said.. I knew you drive well.

But when with some random children coming our way,and you pressed the brakes really hard, we fell down,without helmets.You were still holding my hand.With bleeding heads,knees,we lay on the crowded street. I couldn't move.I saw you getting up,in pain.but I couldn't move. You pulled me, asked me to stand up. I could hear you, but couldn't move. You were in tears,pulled me again.I lay still,couldn't move. 

You pressed my hand once , left it, let it fall...you walked away....

I screamed in vain, no voice came out..you walked away..I couldn't move .

Morning Glory...

And with wonder I looked at the plant; the crippled climber which had climbed the fence next to the rows of earthen flower tubs. Tubs with flowering plants of different Indian and foreign species. Some bore red, some blue, some sunset yellow flowers and some, the mixture of all beautiful shades. There were roses, chrysanthemums, dahlias and some difficultly pronounced seasonal flowers. But the dark red rose plant was my favorite.

I had brought it when it was just a sapling and for which the nursery man had charged me a lot. He had promised that it would bear roses…dark red ones…and with dark red dreams I had prepared the soil bed. Mixing pungent sun dried cow dung with soil and other fertilizers I made it a home. Forgetting my need for water I watered it thrice a day, protected it from storm and hail....from insects...from enemies….

Beside it grew the valueless climber. Which I never bothered to give a home…."what would it bear???? Some small dull blue flowers? which doesn’t  even have a proper smell". I never had much water and compost for it and it was the leftovers which was given..even I never bothered to look if it had died..

My dark red rose plant grew large and strong…but never bore a rose…. And with waiting eyes when I look up, I find the crippling glory…all the way to the top of the fence..with sparkling blue flowers, had climbed my MORNING GLORY...

Bookm@rk

5:30 in the evening. she had to shut the novel halfway coz she had to hurry her way to the computer class. she started searching for the deep red bookmark to mark the pages she read last. it was her favorite one but had not used it for long. she had forgotten where she had kept it. perhaps it was lost. she herself did not know why she was searching it in this peak hour when she had to move. she kept on searching ....drawers,boxes,suitcases,even old jars and baskets..suddenly she chanced to gaze upon a shoe box,wrapped in purple shiny colour paper and tied with a red ribbon.

she knew what all was there inside...birthday cards,new year cards,handmade invitations for birthdays & parties,friendship bands, Mohr's salt wrapped in butter paper(which they had prepared in the chemistry lab,& which was labled by their teacher as the best one and the perfect one),balloons,a steel pendant & some hand made ornaments and a diary with a lots & lots & lots of colourful stickers...mickey,Minnie,pooh,Flintstones,Dexter,trigger and many more.

she could see the bright red bookmark,inside the diary,they had crafted it.she(pat),Papit & Riput (nicknames of the trio).she opened the page with the bookmark and everything woke up in her mind.

their high school days,their friendship,their loud laughter at nights,the tiffin time sharing,the pajama party before their scattering . she could see PARI digged in different fonts on the school bench,behind copies,inside text books & files and on the steel pendant which Papit had brought for the three of them....PARI(hindi for angel).. stood for PA-Pat, Papit..RI-Riput(these names were also crafted by themselves keeping similarity with their original ones).. their real names had  less significance..not more than mere names on the attendance register and on certificates....they were PARI.

now names have significance.the angel is no more white,no more serene,no more heavenly.perhaps PARI lost her way. memories were here,there,everywhere..

she found her bookmark back,the deep red bookmark.the bookmark which perhaps marked the existence of the memories of PARI.

PARI still lives..........in some hearts....

Red less

 BLACK was the colour I was born with.. and when i opened my eyes for the first time to see the colours around me,my mom said it was BROWN...my eyes were brown.......

  

Everything turned BLUE when i started walking with all four legs. discovering ice,discovering fire.......Running here and there i found GREEN...green nature,wordsworth,imagination,romanticism...........Then came the fall....YELLOW all around....dreams falling like leaves...and crushed under some feet...

Yes RED entered my life....following PINK....

You were there....deep scarlet became more red....deep..deep..deep.......

And today.....

I lay before you...... RED LESS

        

All WHITE...