Total Pageviews

Sunday, January 25, 2015

The Healing Beach

Orange waves at dusk
Caressed his bare feet,
Salt and mud covered the bruises
Left by stones in the past.

Receding waves stole the pain,
Gentle breeze evaporated the tears
And boosted the exhausted legs-
For a longer journey afresh.

Reminding of nature’s healing power,
Both physical and emotional;
Of its invigorating injection of confidence
To enable movement without a baggage;
And the need to follow the thin shoreline
Where footprints are preserved.

Sunday, January 18, 2015

For Rent

The doorbell rang twice in quick succession, paused for a moment, and rang a third time.

“Coming”, yelled Gaurav, as he reluctantly got off his comfortable bean bag.

Just when he was about to unlatch the door, the bell rang a fourth time. Probably the guest hadn’t heard the approaching footsteps- so, with the door ajar, Gaurav could see the tall figure in front of him appear somewhat embarrassed. The middle-aged man standing outside in a loose shirt and denim jeans had his head shaved clean.

Before Gaurav could ask, the man smiled at him and extended his right hand, “Hi, this is Harshil.”

“Gaurav”, he shook Harshil’s hand.

“I saw the ‘For Rent’ board there, and was wondering if you could show me around.”

“Sure, let’s go”, said Gaurav, not with much enthusiasm.

Every Sunday, this was the drill, he knew. Already into the third week, Gaurav still hadn’t found a tenant who wanted to move in.

The house was at a prime location, slightly off the main road, which offered the dual advantage of convenience and not having to live through noise and dust of the city. But no potential tenant ever talked about the rent he would charge; they simply did not come back. Did they not like the rooms and the garden? Very unlikely, but then what is it?

Gaurav kept Harshil waiting outside as he went into his room to fetch the bunch of keys.

The exterior of the house looked well-maintained. Indeed, it had been painted a month back when he had decided to rent it out. The elegance of the architecture would impress anyone. Harshil was no exception- but he chose not to express.

It was the ground floor. The door was unlocked and pushed wide open. The interiors were visible faintly in the dark. Gaurav went inside what looked like a drawing room. He navigated through the room without stumbling onto the furniture, reached for the windows and jerked open with his palm. Harshil waited for light to pour in before looking around.

“We’ll clear the mess of furniture when you decide to move in.”

“That’s not a problem.”

 “Okay, this is the drawing room. Let’s go see the dining and bedrooms.”

Harshil nodded. While Gaurav moved inside, Harshil stayed back to evaluate the room further. He looked satisfied.
“This is the dining hall. There’s the kitchen and a small garden just as you step out of the kitchen. That one is the bedroom.”

“Where’s the bathroom?”

“Oh, sorry. It’s there, to the right, next to the kitchen”, pointed Gaurav.

Harshil imagined where he would place the dining table. He realized space was not a constraint. He touched the walls, and then rubbed them with three fingers. The bedroom was spacious too- no complaints there.

But he found the kitchen weird. He did not expect what he saw: everything was wiped clean, unlike the other rooms he visited. The racks had some basic utensils from which water was dripping. Harshil was scared. Does someone stay here, cook and eat here?

He looked for Gaurav. Rushing to the dining room, he couldn’t find him.

“Gaurav!”

No response.

As he walked towards the bathroom, he was relieved to see Gaurav inside washing his face.

“Everything okay?”,Gaurav turned.

“Umm…can you follow me to the kitchen once?”

As Gaurav stepped away from the bathroom mirror to accompany him to the kitchen, Harshil saw something on the mirror that almost made him faint.

Even when Gaurav had moved aside and Harshil was staring right at the mirror, it was Gaurav’s face that lingered on the mirror in grey.

“What happened? Let’s go to the kitchen.”

Numb with fear, Harshil followed Gaurav. In the kitchen, there was another man slicing vegetables now, with his back facing them.

“Meet Harshil”,Gaurav introduced him.

The man turned to Harshil with a knife. Instead of water, this time it was blood dripping. There were two Gauravs in the room- the new one was an aged version of who had so long been accompanying him. As the two Gauravs started laughing, Harshil fell on the floor. His body was found later in the day outside the wall that separated the garden from the alleyway.

In the evening, the doorbell rang again. Gaurav opened the door.
“You did not talk about the rent. Shall we discuss?”,Harshil smiled at Gaurav.