Bidding Adieu

It was time to say goodbye. I was convinced we would meet again. Somehow it did not look as much an impossibility to me as it did to the others. Even as I tried persuading them to believe that I would be back, that I would be there for them, they were drifting away and getting surer that this was the last time we would interact. I am sure the only one who took my word for it when I promised that the goodbye didn’t mean anything and that it was only a temporary hiatus, was me. They did not doubt the sincerity of my emotions. They knew my commitment was genuine. Yet, they thought this was the last they would see of me. Maybe they had a stronger intuition than mine. Time will tell if I was more determined than the dictates of innocent intuition.

It was a special day. We had managed to reverse the scenario that we were in when we had started out. Things were going great for us. And the other initiative that didn’t need me so much as this one, they were here today to learn from us. I felt like a stranger when we started out. New faces all around, taking the lead, all set to make an impact in the lives of a few adopted kids, they impressed me with their enthusiasm. I had to take the backseat. But like it had to be, I had to be part of the action. There had to be something that the newbie could not handle. And I jumped up to grab the chance. In spite of not having been in business for about a month, I was as comfortable as ever. I knew how to get them to understand stuff, didn’t I? I felt proud of myself.

There was a long list of people who had to speak to the audience that day, the leader fella, the visitors and me. The leadership talked forever. He always was like that. His ramblings would never end. There were more exciting things coming up, newer and grander plans, more magnanimous hearts coming out in support of our cause, more money, more books, more competitions and prizes, more fun. The audience was happy. They liked to listen to him. He gave them hope. He was their man. Next came the chance of our visitors from far. It was amazing to watch the very confident teachers of a kiddo crowd far away in the village go through a mini stage fright fit in front of our brats. I was up next. I had come late to class and like I always did, I kept my word by distributing chocolates (this time they looked like cakes) to all. Our new year resolution was to come to class on time, wasn’t it? I secretly hoped that I would set an example of keeping a promise.

We were running out of time. I had to speak up. Let them know that I was about to quit. I put the idea forward. Krishna was agitated. He let us know he was. He told us what we knew anyways. He told us we would all desert them, run away chasing our own dreams. We never wanted to signify a permanence of support for them. But they had come to believe we were just that. I was overwhelmed. I tried my best once again to make them understand that we did not want them to lean on to us but to be independent and self-motivated individuals. I told them I was about to emulate one of their revered leaders, Dr. Baba Sahib Ambedkar and that they should follow suit too. One of my sweethearts came up with something like a joke. When she told the class, our next rendezvous would be via the pages of the history book where I would figure along with Dr. Ambedkar, I laughed hard. The next moment, I was fighting away the tears that swelled my eyes.

It was friendship’s day and I had my hands tied up with colorful ribbons, pink and red most of them. I was glad they took me for a friend. I walked home flaunting my fully tied up hands. Success march.

One more happy day.

Affirmation

It was the most stunning bird I had ever seen. And that still stands. Majestic and Rhapsodic, I was sure it was one of its kind. Wasn’t this the first time I was truly enraptured by a bird? Birds, creatures I had been watching for a long long time! Everything it did pleased me. As it introduced itself chirping and jumping about the branches of the peepal next to my window, I could feel it’s free spirit taking me over. I wanted to equate it to me.

It was the season of waiting. I would stay put at the window every morning in the hope of another conversation with my friend. And did it turn up each day to make me feel like it was going to last forever. It was the most refreshing activity of the day, my meeting with its majesty. It spoke little but I was certain it understood my admiration. I believe it basked in the attention. Each day I wished I could watch it more closely. Although the hints of opening up remained a constant, it never came too close. It always maintained its enigmatic appeal. If one day I discovered it could open out its fan tail and enthrall me with its ‘dancing around the trees’ act, the next day it would surprise me with its exotic display of color. Wasn’t that a crimson and pista green patched coat that I saw! Oh! And it is larger than I thought it is. Aha, and that’s what they call grace. But all of it, Peek a boo.

I wanted to draw close. I wanted to catch its attention. I tried everything in the book to get noticed. Grains, peanuts, chillies, guava, fish, meat. In vain. It seemed happier pecking away the woods. My friends grew in number. Those that feasted on the treat I laid out became regulars. I also gained an agitated set of neighbors who could not tolerate the noise.

It may sound crazy, but I thought it yearned to meet me just like I did. I was foolish. The bird was loved by all. I wasn’t the only one on the window next to the peepal tree. It was my one-track mind that tricked me into believing that it was just the two of us. My neighbors, the same agitated set, they were in the picture too. They were one with me in their admiration for the bird. They lived by the peepal too. They waited every morning for their darling too. And so it was an affair that involved not just the two of us but a whole bunch of “others”. Realization dawned.

Did that matter? I would like to believe it didn’t. But then I would be lying to say I didn’t feel depressed to know that there were “others”. Was I being possessive ? No. Because I didn’t possess it anyway. But there was something amazing about the “imagined” exclusive nature of my bonding with the bird that knowledge of the crowding killed. Was I shattered? Maybe I was. Because I decided to call it quits. I returned back to the routine. There was no more waiting. It was good once again. Till that day.

I cannot believe I have slipped into that thing again. But, I had no options. One fine morning, the bird was all mine. It paid me an exclusive visit. It woke me up with its song at my window. Affirmation it was!

Have I gone into a loop? Yes. I have. Am I being foolish? Maybe I am. But till there is a “break” I’ll go on.