Empty pages Episode 11
It has been 3 weeks since the last post I am told. I present episode 11, not as many stories as the previous episodes, hopefully it makes up for that in other ways. :)
#71 Silent letters
The word sounded different when he said it. What did it mean?
He couldn't understand this language but wished he could.
His neighbour went to school, she'd help him for sure..
She could've been his grand daughter, a fraction of his age..
They sat there, outside their shanty in the evenings.
With the street lamps illuminating their choppy progress.
Her tiny fingers and then his rugged ones would trace the letters.
Why would they put letters in a word, that would be silent?
These foreigners were odd people, he told himself.
People made fun of him. What was the point of it all the asked.
He pretended to be deaf and aloof,which mostly worked.
He soon learnt enough words to be able to read subtitles.
Four letters. Wine. That was the purplish liquid she told him.
The white thing they poked into the fire- marshmallow.
He would watch a movie a week at least. It was his habit.
He was turning 50 in a week. He had learnt a new language.
His friend came in on his birthday, with a heavy parcel.
Wrapped in brown paper, it was a dictionary. He devoured it.
People still mocked him, now for trying to be better than them.
Like silent letters -They were there, but didn't matter.
#72 Altitude
They moved to a different city as he grew up, far from their home.
The only part that tied him to his past was the aeroplanes.
He'd stop whatever he was doing, to gaze up at the sky.
He spent most of his time on the terrace. Staring upwards.
He knew the flight schedule better than most of the staff.
He wished he could fly away some day. See a different world.
He wanted to fight for his country like his grandfather, someday.
The hope lingered though he knew his parents wouldn't agree.
The only thing he liked about this house was its proximity to the airport.
Summer nights meant watching the magical blinking lights with lemonade.
Winter mornings meant watching the planes circle in the fog.
The first time he sat inside a plane, he could hardly sit still.
He wanted to push all the buttons, pull all the knobs, feel everything.
The air hostess tried to be kind to him, while his mother glared.
As they were alighting, he peeped into what seemed like the cockpit.
The pilot was a middle aged man, eating a banana, smiling at him.
He couldn't believe his luck, they actually let him set foot inside.
He stepped out promising himself -this is where he'd live,where he'd die.
At 2120 km/h, 50000 feet above land, he was laughing as they struck.
He was dying for sure, as he nosedived, but winning at life.
#73 Soul food
He lived in a big city now, big job. Travelling the country, world.
That didn't change much about what he liked, not yet.
Over years he found, most of his early meals had been ripoffs.
The originals all over the world tasted nothing like that.
Black forest cake for example. There was simply no correlation.
He didn't judge either for being original or a ripoff, it didn't matter.
He ate what he liked, he experimented with the unknown.
He laughed when people asked him to compare his experiences.
Till he returned home years later, with a plan to visit his favourite.
They were shutting down soon, he heard. Some government rule.
He couldn't possibly have enough by then. He was in denial.
The place brought memories of childhood outings with the family.
Dates. Friends. Fights. Moments when food was his only friend.
He sat there ruminating, forgetting to place his order entirely.
The food appeared before him, the old waiter smiling at him.
The paneer butter masala welcomed him back to reality. To now.
He would visit religiously since that day. Ensuring every dish was relished.
He sat there with the waiter, as they tore the building down on the D day.
For the first time, food had broken his heart and made him cry.
#74 Family fight
He wouldn't believe what she was saying. She didn't know anything.
He could hear her argue. He didn't want to listen to her arguments.
He started pacing the room, surely she would understand his point.
He tried explaining over and over. Same thing, different words.
She was being asinine. She should stop sleeping in the day and work.
She would come around sooner or later, he told her. She always did.
He loved his sister a lot but it irked him that she wouldn't listen to him.
She wouldn't let him sleep either, always chattering away, nagging him.
She was always telling him what he should do, when and how.
He decided he wasn't going to listen to her anymore. From that second on.
He heard sounds. Somebody was trying to break the door and enter.
She told him to not move. He wanted to go stop them. Yell at them.
She wouldn't let him, she told him to go sit in the corner by the window.
He was getting angry, they couldn't break his door. He was yelling at her.
They had a heated argument, she was adamant and he was livid about it.
The neighbours peeped in through the broken door at both of them.
It would have been none of their business. Just a regular family fight.
Except her empty blackened eyes stared from her marbled body on the floor.
Only one voice was resonating through the room, arguing with the dead.
#75 Paper plane
The professor was a cantankerous old man. Punctuality.
One minute late and you'd be out for the whole month.
She was gasping for breath as she pulled her books out.
Halfway through the droning, she felt her stomach rumble.
She slowly extracted bits of food from her bag, nibbling.
As always, attention is showered when least required.
Her attempts at being invisible were shattered. Hiccup.
She looked up as all the eyes in the room bored into her.
Frantically, she dug through the contents of her bag. Water.
Her bottle though was relaxing in her bed, forgotten.
A bottle appeared over she shoulder as she turned.
She grabbed it and guzzled, not glancing at her saviour.
She turned around after the lecture to thank him/her.
She turned around. No person. No bottle. Just empty rows.
It irked her that she never said thanks, she hated loose ends.
She would watch out for this person, failing to do so, daily.
Meanwhile, she had new problems,this guy who'd smile at her.
Smiling was harmless, but they bumped into each other. Everywhere.
She was beginning to panic, was she being stalked by this guy?
She began avoiding him like the plague. Shooting out of rooms.
Till she realised he was a permanent resident of the library.
There was no escaping his lopsided smile, for a few years maybe.
She was sitting in the same lecture, when a paper plane hit her.
She was going to ignore it but it had something written on the wings.
She secretly read it but focused on the lecture like never before.
He could see her from the other end, reading, and then pretending.
He didn't want to creep her out though, so resumed doodling.
Everyday, she'd get hit by a paper plane, with a cartoon made for her.
On the days she was down, it was like cool water to a parched throat.
On the rare occasions, she didn't get hit on, her day would feel defective.
One windy day, the poor professor was the unintended recipient of the plane.
He would have snapped. Except it had settled blissfully in his greasy curls.
The class would spend the rest of the lecture fighting back tears and laughter.
Months later, she would be presenting in front of the whole university.
She was doing great till she saw all the eyes looking at her expectantly.
Her throat ran dry, palms sweaty. Maybe it wasn't too late to run off -stage.
She looked down at the paper of prompts. All that came out was "ummm"
She looked down again. A plane had deftly landed on the wooden lectern.
The smile was involuntary. She spoke. Loud. Clear. For plane man/woman.
The ordeal was finally over. She sat backstage wolfing down a snack. Hiccup.
What she didn't have though, was water in her bag. Again. She cursed herself.
A plane landed over her foot, and a bottle rolled towards them for company.
The mystery saviour's bottle. Would she consider sharing a meal?
She scanned the area, not one person visible. She didn't know what to do.
She already had a bag full of flattened out paper planes, this would go in too.
She looked up to find library guy grinning at her. Same goofy grin.
Her cartoon avatar painted on his t-shirt.She smiled at him for the first time.
No plane could boast of the lift his heart experienced that moment.
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