The Comb

Turning her purse upside down, she frantically searched the spilled out contents.

Wallet, cellphone, some loose change, her kaajal and lip gloss, sunglasses, a book, portable charger, a fruit, her toothbrush, a farewell card, a small bamboo plant... but no, no sign of the comb. 

She wondered where could she have left it. It was her favourite one, having a special de-tangle feature, perfect for her always-prone-to-messing hair. A black one, with red inter-crossed bristles. She had had that one for 2 years now.

And today she was in a new city, and the comb was lost. .

She looked at the room. Having moved in a few hours back, things were not in an orderly fashion. Bags open. Mattress askew. Bed-sheet a makeshift for the curtains she would get..once she found out which shops to go to. 

The though made her let out an involuntary sigh. The pending work was too much, and she had not even made a list. She had to find a new cook, a new maid, a new gardener, a new car guy, a new mechanic to know of, a grocery store, the good restaurants, a good library, a good place for shopping...

A new cable guy, new wi-fi connection, new place for getting clothes ironed.

New colleagues, new office, new city. 

This thought train was not going well. 

Struggling through the tons of things she had packed in her bag, she threw out cloth after cloth, looking for her comb. The clothes had to be put in the cupboard in a more orderly fashion, but right now all she could think about was her comb. 

'Well.. it's not here definitely..maybe it dropped in the flight when I dozed off.. Should I connect with the airlines..'.. she wondered.. 'But what will I say? Can you please help me search my comb because I can't buy a new one.. No, no it's not studded with diamonds and it's not irreplaceable. Its just, you know. Mine. I've grown used to it. We were working well together. I just don't want a new comb so soon..'

Her mental make believe conversation was now beginning to irate her. The other rooms were barren so there was definitely no comb in the house. 

She tried to calm her jittery self, knowing completely the cause of restlessness. She hated changes. She hated getting out of her comfort zone. It was fine earlier. Hopping from city to city every few years had been fun. Exploring new places-good too. But lately she had been reserving that for vacations. Once she had come back home, she had thought to stay put. The familiarity of the city and seasons had put her in a lazy, calm zone too quickly. She had been happy after ages. It had a been a wonderful 2 years. 

But a new offer had compelled her to make a pros/cons list - for a while. 

She had thrown out the list after an hour and was happy to re-embrace the familiar. 

All her life she had, on an average, moved every 3-4 years. Lately that had included 3 moves in the same city, in as many years. Moving had become a habit. The habit made a gnawing guilty pull at her, and she had taken a chance at the latest offer. A new city excited her again.

But, on the day of moving, the heavens poured. Her city, her home, looked resplendent in green and grey. It was also a sign of the changing season.

When she landed here, it was hot. Harsh hot with a strong yellow cast over the entire city. Most of the city was closed and seemed dull due to the heat. 

Her sixth sense was on loud mode now, perhaps to say that she had made a very, very bad move. Losing the comb was a sign, she was sure.

The electricity went out then, as if to confirm her prescience. 'Great'.. she muttered to herself. Even the echo in the house was dead.

She sat in the hot room, feeling sombre. Thoughts flitted in her head, from her friends in office to her favourite hangouts back home. What she could have been doing today and where she was in reality. The tears struggled at the corner, but she was not so weak. 

Her stomach growled, probably it too was angry for being ignored for so long. She picked up an orange and started peeling slowly, concentrating on every little fibre sticking out. Staring outside the window, with no human in sight, she made a mental resolve to be strong tomorrow, and complete all work. Keep herself busy. Learn the local language for fun. Obviously, she would make friends in office. She will explore the city. Breathe in the city. She had heard great things about this place. It would be fun.

But starting from tomorrow. Today however, she was permitting herself to get on an emotional roller coaster.

Feeling a little better, she stood up from the bed. Spotting the mess from the purse which she had made earlier, she started packing the spill back in, thinking to keep one less task for the next day. Kept the farewell card on the bedside table. Put in the phone for charging. 'Maybe I should just finish my book today, after this..'.

Spotting a loose thread in the purse, she pulled at it. It suddenly came loose and she noticed that the purse lining had shred to a big wide gap. 

Putting her hand into the gap, she pulled out...

Her black red comb...

Smiling to herself, she now knew. All the signs of moving were good. Her comb was back.

The fan came back on, confirming her prescience again.

Irrational. This World.

How do people leave their own families?

How do their so called beliefs become so important that they have the strong will and purpose to dissociate with the living, and loving, beings in their lives, to pursue their own dogmas?

How do they justify, or propose to teach through their actions, the other/future people in their lives?

How do they say, my child, I will show you what unconditional love is, when they haven't displayed the same action for the family that was by birth?

I am sometimes very perplexed on how people's minds work. It is not about the religion, or upbringing, or qualifications which defines how I am going to feel about, or how to treat the people who are in my inner circle.

Ok, I will agree that beliefs/practices/traditions are important. I will also say that yes, those beliefs are what define us as a person. It distinguishes every person from the next. This is how we remember people, isn't it? Through their actions, their words, their thought processes.

But what I will never understand is, how do people let those beliefs manipulate us enough that we stop talking to our families, treat them harshly and continue with life as if nothing happened.

How can you not want to say, oh he's my brother, he is what is important. Love is important. How do you let your beliefs let you dwell and live with hatred?

What will you do when judgement day comes?

Random Thoughts, Random Drawls.

Spring Green

It is an amazing spring morning in Delhi. The sky is, not dull, but a cheerful overcast grey. The clouds drop a little rain sporadically, but a gentle breeze blows them away. I head for the park near my house, trying not to be late for my weekly tête-à-tête with nature. The park is very lush green today, more than I have ever seen through all the 4 seasons I've been here. The beautiful spring puts a spring in my step too..

I can spot a group of 4 street dogs who are the adopted dogs of our colony. I have literally seen them grow up from puppies. They were much gentler then, today they are sturdy street dogs who have learnt to defend themselves, living on their own. After all, no one would call a street dog for milk or treats, as much as they would call a cute and helpless looking puppy. For the sake of familiarity, lets name the 4 dogs as Hira, Moti, Tuka and Poky. 

In the park I can also see a well bred black labrador, whom the owner addresses as Lucy. It is strapped shut across its mouth, for fear it may bite someone. A leash keeps it on its toes. There's also a beagle, a pug and a spaniel, out on their own walks. 

Hira and his gang have been snapping playfully at the morning joggers' heels, running along with them, jumping at imaginary treats. The 4 of them rush playfully towards a cricket ball when it gets hit into the bushes. They spot a group of pigeons at the ground, and they run towards it, sending the pigeons twittering into the sky. If not the pigeons, then they run towards the squirrels who are searching for their breakfast. A random dog from the road barks and these 4 bark back, as if acknowledging their morning greetings.

Done with their usual laps, Hira now spots the domesticated dogs, and he wants to have a bit of fun. He rushes across the park, galloping as if he were a horse taking his master away from danger. He jumps across elevations, climbs up and down the walking track and reaches across to Lucy. He barks once, then bends down on his front legs as if bowing. Now that's a typical dog gesture that he wants to play. Lucy looks at Hira, wags his tail, but the scared owner walks him away. By now, the rest of the gang have joined them, and they start their own play, while making sure they are in Lucy's vicinity.

The beagle and the spaniel are not on leash, as they are relatively smaller dogs and hence easier to control in case they decide to scramble. They also have been observing this scene and are waiting for their invites. There are none. Apparently they are too small for this social convention. The spaniel rushes into bushes, trying to follow the tracks Hira and Moti have left behind. The beagle is probably of  an introvert nature, because he decides to observe the scene from a distance and simply wags his tail to show he's interested.

The pug has stood still at a corner, for very long now. I think, he has been contemplating whether to proceed or not, and after a while he decides he likes his human company better.

After the pets have been walked, they are taken back to their cosy homes where their carefully prepared treats await. I can spot the beagle staring intently through the gaps in the gate, towards the park. He sits still for very long, his gaze fixed on the free dogs. After a while, he walks away. 

Lucy has reached home, and his mouth strap has been taken off. He can now stretch his mouth and take in all the air he wants. He wishes he could do the same when he was in the park. He also gazes at the park once, wishing he could be as free as Hira and his team. Who knows, they could have been friends.

Since the sun is getting overhead, people are going back home. The sunday chores also await. They have had their little time of freedom, on this beautiful morning. The birds have left to fend food for their little ones. Squirrels are back on the trees, nibbling at the nuts they have gathered. The park now gathers a deserted look.

Hira is tired now. He feels thirsty but there's no one to give him water, or to offer him warm tempting food. He spots a broken pipe nearby, making a pool of muddy water. He barks at his fellows, for whom he's grown to feel responsible for. They lap up the water, sifting through the sand. Nearby, some scraps have been left behind by the guy who puts up a food stall. They all eat as much as they can to keep hunger at bay. The lack of activity too, puts them in a snooze. They rest, and wait for the evening, to meet new people again, to try making new friends, and to survive yet another day.

I head back home thinking, life is the same, for all of us.