Monday, 23 September 2013
One Kind Word From the Lady in the Orange Hat
In the bitter, biting cold of a southern winter many years ago, I was born - a squalling brown baby girl, eyes wide open and gazing towards my future.
I grew in great measured bounds, from bouncing baby to a brown-eyed little girl. I was curious, and was consumed by a thirst to know-why did the rabbits nibble in our family garden? How was I able to walk straight and tall, but my Papa inched forward only by leaning heavily on his cherry-wood cane? And why did I fear so greatly the strange woman who harrumphed past our gate early every morning, muttering to herself constantly? She was like an apparition in living color, a ghost topped off in the color of the sunset--I was astounded by the Lady in the Orange Hat.
Whenever she passed, our mutt, Blackey, would set up a noisy racket inside his pen, roused to alarm at the sight of the old woman ambling along. She was bent and twisted; her feet seemed barely able to pull the rest of her worn body forward... each step was a labor for her. She usually wore a faded housedress, scuffed black boots my Grams called "old-timey," and her signature bright orange hat, crowned with a plume of tan and white goose feathers. The hat seemed as much a part of her head as her ears or (never visible) hair. I was both frightened of her, and drawn to peer at her through our front picture window as she paced by.
One particular summer, Papa and Grams decided I was old enough (and brave enough, I reckoned) to walk to the store by myself, about a country mile up the road from the house. Delighted at first by my new freedom, I skipped along the dusty road at least once every day, waving to every car and person I met. Soon enough, Grams began to send me out with a shopping list, and my trips to the store, bedazzlement faded, took on the same every-day dullness as any other chore.
On a Tuesday morning, with sweat gathering in the soft flesh between my thin collarbones and behind my ears, I set off to the market, armed with a shopping list and a head full of girlish musings to keep me company. Singing and swinging along, I didn't notice the Lady in the Orange Hat until we were almost face-to-face. I stopped abruptly, and lowered my head. What to do now? I thought to myself. She shuffled towards me, then stopped and pushed the brim of her hat back to reveal a wrinkled but not unkind face, the color of water-stained parchment. "You David & Ella's grandgirl, aintcha?" she crackled, and reached out to me. I instinctively recoiled, and stilled my heart, which was beating a staccato African drum solo... ba-bump, bump-bump, ba-bump. "Yes ma'am," I mumbled, head still angled to the earth.
The old woman chuckled, and then inhaled deeply. "You be careful out 'chere by yo'self," she said, and I glanced up quickly to see her lift the tangerine hat off her head. A tumble of wavy, tea-colored hair suddenly flowed past her stooped shoulders and rested in the middle of her bent back. Where did all that hair come from? I thought in wonder.
She fanned her head with the hat, and the feathers trembled and swayed in the hot air. The cascading curls rippled in the wake of her fanning, and as she reached up to scratch her scalp, tiny curls twisted around her leathery fingers; each curl an old friend, rushing to embrace a welcomed companion. Again, she extended her hand in my direction, and this time, though I flinched, I did not draw away. Her fingers were dry and warm, and she placed the tips of them under my small chin. "Keep yo' head up, chile," she said. "Never look down on yourself... make people know yo' pride in yo' walk." Without another word, she replaced her hat, tipped it to a peculiar angle, and concealed the secret chestnut locks once more. The Lady in the Orange Hat smiled, and walked on down the road.
Sunday, 22 September 2013
Secrets - A Love Story (Part 1)
Seema was easily the most beautiful girl in our college. Whenever I'd see her, I'd feel a trifle jealous that God seemed to have given so much time to her creation and seemed to have rushed through when it came to me. A gripe I hold even to this day. Well anyways, this story is about Seema and not about me. So let's talk about her.
Seema was a very popular girl in our college and the reason was not just her good looks. There was something attractive about her. Something that catches your eye and never lets the face be drowned in the ordinariness of the world around it. That was the feeling Seema inspired in people around her.
As for me, I did not know Seema that well. The only thing common between us was that we were both into sports - both of us happened to very good athletes. We were the only girls from our college who represented the University's athletic team. I had always been a good athlete but I was stunned when Seema proved to be good too.
Looking at her outwardly appearance one could never imagine that she could run so fast or throw the shot put so far. I had almost collapsed out of shock when my strong legs could not compete with her slender ones. Nor could my wellbuilt physique overtake the shot put throw from her delicate frame. God, seemed to have had all the time in his hands for Seema - looks, talent and athleticism.
To add to my misery was the fact that Seema came from a very affluent family. She was the youngest and every bit of attention and money was lavished on her. She had her own car while I had to do with a run-down moped which would give up on me once every few days. It was one such day when it had rained the entire day. I made my way to the 2-wheeler garage(which leaked big time!) with trepidation. I was sure my moped would not start and it did not prove me wrong much as I'd have liked it to. So there I was, standing in the drizzle, after having kicked my moped(sometimes literally!) innumerable times.
I was miserable. Not a soul seemed to want to help me out of my predicament which was as well since I'd have died with sheer embarrassment. After standing like a lost soul knowing not what to do(and regaining my breath), I decided to walk to the bus stop. The rain Gods also seemed to be against me as the drizzle gained speed and it was raining hard in no time. I was stranded mid way to the bus stop.
I wasn't feeling very pleasant towards the whole world when a car came to a halt next to me. In sat Seema offering me a ride home and I almost dived into the back seat of her car. I thanked her profusely and offered her some coffee once we reached home which she graciously accepted. No wonder people around her loved her. She was a wonderful girl, I had to concede, albeit reluctantly. She left after I introduced her to my family.
My younger brother, who was almost 4 years our junior fell for her hard. Every single day he'd ask me, 'When is your Fairy Friend going to visit again?' with his tongue hanging out of his mouth! All this when his nickname for me loosely translated meant a big fat cow!
College came to an end. I was still busy trying to find something to do, so that I would not be pestered by all and sundry about what I was doing? It is like you have to get out of college and either pursue higher studies abroad or land a job immediately or worse still get married! Otherwise every single person who has the remotest contact with you makes it their personal agenda to keep on asking about what your plans are for the future.
How could I tell them that I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do? I am sure a lot of people would have had heart attacks including my parents if I had let known the fact that I was clueless about not just my future but almost everything else.
It was during those confusing and idle times that Seema paid another visit home. My brother who I thought had recovered from the crush sat with his mouth open, tongue hanging out, staring at her while we talked. She had come to invite me to her wedding. I was surprised that she was getting married so early. Didn't I hear that she had secured admission in a highly rated university in the US of A? So what was this? But I did not let my doubts show, lest they be translated into jealousy, even as my brother was controlling tears of grief that seemed to be forming in his eyes. I congratulated her and assured her that I'd be there. She seemed really happy and I was once again invaded by the familiar feeling of being insignificant. There she was, her life laid out neatly in front of her.
I opened the card, the boy's name seemed familiar to me. Wasn't that our senior from college? The one every girl worth her salt had a crush on, including yours truly! I never knew that they were a pair. I imagined them together and yes, they would from a strikingly handsome pair no doubt. A sigh escaped my lips as I put the card back in its place.
I did go the wedding. It was a grand affair as expected. There were so many people there, that I got lost in the melee. I so wanted to congratulate Seema personally but fate did not give me that chance. I had to make do with seeing her from far. She looked breathtaking dressed in traditional bridal finery. Her mother was on one side beaming at everyone and her best friend stood next to her. Seema was the cynosure of every eye as she made her way to the stage. What attracted me more was the look of absolute happiness that permeated her being. I congratulated her in my mind, left the gift I could not afford to buy amongst the host of gifts and quietly left. Soon I forgot about her as she flew far out of my life.
After a while my life seemed to finally gain some momentum. No, it was nothing as fairy-tale like as Seema's life had been but according to my standards it was pretty significant. The company I worked for decided that I was good enough to be sent to their operations branch abroad and I thanked my lucky stars as I boarded a plane. Finally I was getting away from it all. No more questions about where my life was heading. But something else. Trust people to find something to continuously trouble you with. If it is not one thing, then it is something other. The questions now switched from - 'so what are your future plans?' to the famous 'so when are you getting married?' Was I glad I was getting away from it all!
The Boat Across
That night there was a tremendous wind. We fell asleep to the sound of rain lashing against the shutters. I heard a haunting sound coming from the ocean auditorium, it sounded like a child's sobbing-moan. A shadowy thing was lurking beneath the waves, not exactly 'blue planet', where was David Attenborough when you needed him? Those soothing tones would have come in handy.
The shadowy thing broke the surface and I screamed in abject terror. For the second time that night, Jo shook me out of my slumber. 'Al! Al! Wake up!' 'What's up? Was I snoring again?' She switched on the dodgy bedside lamp. The bulb flicked to life, somewhat reluctantly. Jo's face was full of concern. 'You were making these terrible gurgling sounds, sounded like you were drowning.' 'I think I was.' 'So what were you dreaming about?' I mentioned about the thing lurking. 'And?' 'At first I thought it was a whale, you know, the mating call?' Jo nodded. She was into the discovery channel as much as me. 'Then I realised it was an arm, just sitting there, staring. 'Arms don't stare.' 'Don't be so anal, you know what I mean.' 'Go on.' 'It looked like it had been hacked off some poor person with an axe. And the fingernails were all bloody and torn. Horrible.' Jo opened her bedside drawer. 'Magic pill time.' So far, I hadn't needed my pill. The beautiful surroundings and the fresh sea air had done the job, but the nightmares were back. I tossed down the tablet with some left over wine in a glass next to my bed. 'Listen Ali,' Jo said, 'About this party tomorrow.' 'What about it?' 'I don't feel comfortable going.'
I knew exactly what she meant. 'Why not?' ' I don't know, I just don't get a good feeling... ' I reached under the pillow. My phone said 3am, Jesus h, not the ideal time for a debate. 'Look, I know my dream sounded ominous but... ' ' Sounded what?' 'Never mind. Listen Jo, I'm pooped, can we decide this in the morning?' 'It is morning.' 'I know.' 'I'm worried about you Ali,' Jo said. 'Why?' 'These dreams... ' 'Nahhh... just my period coming... you know what I'm like once a month. Total psychopath.' 'Okay.'
Jo switched off the lamp again. Ironically, she fell back asleep almost immediately,sans pill whereas I tossed and turned for another hour, unable to recapture my dreams, not that I wanted to because that last dream was toxic; still I hated being awake in the'darkest hour just before dawn.'
Finally, the pill kicked in and I dozed off for the third time.
Murder mystery set in Amalfi.. true story
Read more at http://stayinginpositano.com
Read more at http://stayinginpositano.com
Friday, 20 September 2013
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