The Wild Imaginations of Nagesh and Varsha

This is a tale written by us, Varsha and Nagesh in collaboration. No discussion about the story line, just posting, each one at our own pace. First episode written in jul and the last one in september. So do check out whats the outcome, and give us your feedback. And make a guess, which of us has written which episode. Won't be tough if you have read our individual blogs.

Episode 1:

Nita knew that she had no choice but to do what she was doing. She had spent days pondering over her decision. Will he understand her? Leave alone supporting her...
It was not easy...not at all easy ....but did she have much of a choice? She knew the tough decisions she was taking now will make way for a greater love and happiness in the future...a future that was not too far. But till then she had no choice but to face any hardships that might fall unto her. She clutched her handbag closer to herself and started fiddling with the zipper..a sign that reflected her anxiety; her own slightest doubts in the plan. she dragged her feet along the uneven path beneath her feet, which were shaky from the long walk and the rough weather.

Episode 2:

Resting his head on the not so cozy cane chair, Naresh was lost in an equal ponder. He was already done with the foot-dragging march on the rough pavement on his way back home. The thoughts in his Sinusitis-struck head were deep with its echoes shrill, that ended with a bold question mark. "Whats troubling you Nita?". The thoughts were supported by Jagjit's Ghazal playing on his PC singing "Kya Gham hai jisko Chipaa rahe ho.. tum itna jo muskuraa rahe ho". Naresh pondered hard to extrapolate the reason behind the grey tension that vieled his beloved Nita's fair happy face. Or perhaps, it was her fair face veiling the dark stress showing its gruesome grey.

Naresh knew that Nita had found her happiness in him, as much as he discovered his completeness in her. Inspite of his trials so far, he was unable to arrive at the reasons of Nita's distress. Naresh's thoughts ran through a series of eliminations.. "It couldn't be our parents, they have afterall given consent for our marriage" "She is almost through with her studies and is poised to get through her next level too!.. hmmm studies isnt the reason for her distress"

The suspense mounted deeper and deeper till it tranquilized Naresh to the darkness of the night, beyond the point where his sleeplessness couldn't hold him awake.

Episode 3:

Nita knocked on the door. The door which had the answer to her querry. A tired faced Makrand opened the door.
"Come on in.."
Nita entered. Sat on a not so comfortable low seat. A glass of water was served. She drank a few sips, as if just for formality. Her dry mouth needed more than the few drops she had. But then that was the last thing on her mind.
"So you are sure about your decision.....?" asked Mac, as he was called. His friends found his long name very cumbersome.
"Yes" she said in a shaky tone, which even a child wouldn't have believed.
"Nita....I understand its tough. But if your mind is made up, nothing else will matter. "
She mumbled a yes, which probably she didn't hear either.
"No force absolutely Nita..think it over." Mac said with concern.

Next to Naresh, only Mac knew Nita as well as he did. They had worked together in the art gallery. Nita to earn some pocket money for her studies and him, an art freak, passionate about his work. And he could understand Nita's concern. All the same he felt she was giving the issue more attention than it deserved.

"Mac here's the cash, she handed him a thick bundle. All of Rs.50,000. Each and every penny of what I saved over past so many years with you here at the gallery. Plus all my cash gifts, daily savings, small investments..all put together. Pack that lovely picture. Naresh will love it, the art connossieur he is. Although he will chide me about drowning all my savings for this. But as we both discussed, its worth more than what I pay. Just a little anxious to spend all of this at once. "
"Good going girl. Trust me you are buying a treasure. Its packed and ready, shall be delivered to Naresh in an hour. I paid Nattu extra for this late night delivery. At sharp 00:00, for his birthday, Naresh will recieve this lovely present."
"Thanks a lot Mac, you are just great...." Nita gave him a warm hug and left the art gallery with a lost smile on her face.

Mrityunjay

Thane 21 - 11.48 Hrs (Travelling slow between Thane and Mumbai CST)

The 9 coach train ratcheted lethargically out of platform number one, like a python crawling out of its den after lazing and digesting its prey. Seated in one of the coaches, Mrityunjay tried to feel the first few raindrops of the season that were trying their best to fall on the parched land of Mumbai, getting evaporated by the heat long before its fall! Mrityunjay's face was lucky to catch just a couple of them which diluted his tears by a fractional milliliter.

Those tears did not carry sadness, but stress and a petition from his mild-grey eyes which had spent many sleepless nights, partying out and also in lonesome ponder. Mrityu, as his friends called him, was not quite tired of sipping fresh fruit juice in a tavern full of boozards, his friends. But every night he sought a deep glance to the midnight sky through the grids of the train window grill. On the random patterns of the dim city-lit clouds, Mrityunjay tried to dream and project his future which seemed as bleak as those clouds and as uncertain as the rains that those clouds would have showered. He could see his engineering degree, the eyes of his first crush, Akansha and his plans to study further just in case he cleared his engineering.... and the dark veil of fear of the unknown and something even more dominating....the uncertain.

The train stopped at Mulund and the silence of the compartment was disturbed by a group of army men. A strange feeling swept past Mrityunjay, as though he just had a trim haircut like a cadet with the feeling of breeze tickling the almost bare temples. He felt unusual - as though he was a part of their regiment, till the train jerk shook him back to reality. The Army jawaans chuckled at this daydreamer and muffled his long hair. Mrityu gave them a salute as though he was actually reporting to them. But somehow did not speak or greet them. The train had passed Bhandup while Mrityu rose from his seat to stand near the door and enjoy the long stretch between Vikhroli and Kanjurmarg stations, with the train at its fastest.

As he stood there, he found someone waiting there at the door. An aged monk smiled with the himalayan wrinkles folding all over his face. Mrityunjay who would otherwise not care a damn, folded his hands in and unusual greeting and gave a bow. He felt a deep de ja vu, as though he had lived the whole train incident before. The army ... the monk.. and now the breeze of the train door that invited him to hang out!


Fading lights!

As he hung out of the door , tightly holding the door-bar of the train, he could feel the breeze forming vortices over his face and fondling his flowing hair. The night was very dark, the breeze blew, while he could hear the himalayan chants of the monk very distinctly, as his lips mysteriously synched the monk's chants! The gusts of the breeze got stronger as the trained passed through the empty stretches of Godrej property at Vikhroli.

As the train whizzed past at its fastest possible, everything that Mrityu could see outside fuzzed with motion blur, as though a beautiful painting almost drying was smudged in one particular direction. The blur of the place outside, as well as the sharp sight of the insides of the coach, including the wrinked monk now seemed to ... merge....

Merger.... not with the darkness of the outside... nor with the bright fluoroscence of the inside lighting... but a combination of both... A mysterious Grey. Mrityunjay felt a bit relaxed with all his tension being relieved part by part.. as his focus moved towards this Grey shade that was filling up gradually... everything that he could see..

The trees and the tracks outside.. turned grey... The monk and his smile turned grey.. The sounds of the merry-making soldiers faded too.. all of a sudden ... Mrityu's entire line of sight was filled with a fluttery curtain of Grey! The tracks .. the train and everything beneath his feet... they dark sky the fluoroscent lamp and everything over his head... disappeared surrendering to this shade of Grey . Mrityunjay found himself floating with approximately the same speed as what the train took him.. He could still feel the acceleration of the train giving him butterflies in the stomach.. Or was it the TRAIN that moved??.. for NOW there wasnt any train.. Just the Grey matter in which he was suspended.

------End of episode one-----------

Episode Two
Open window and the narrow crevice

"Ether??.. space??.. white wilderness??" - random names sped past Mrityunjay's mind as he tried to name the colour and the experience in which he was suspended. The chaotic rattles of the train and the gusty breeze was transformed to an unusual calm state of rest. He could feel his feet now gaining firm ground even as his eyes filled with Grey couldn't make out whether he was downside up or upside down. The dimensions were all lost and even his body was getting consumed gradually by the Grey mode, just when he could feel his thoughts holding his shape and not mixing up with the mysterious.

Mrityunjay was almost convinced that he was permanently doomed to see and feel only lonesome grey for the rest of his Life .. or whatever unknown state that was. At that moment when fear was about to turn the grey to dark, Mrityu felt a gentle assuring caress of a white dazzle from behind him. It felt as though the light came from a door that he had left open and walked ahead. Indeed! when he turned back there was a crevice that resembled the open crack of a partly shut door, that was almost in half-mind whether to shut .. or not. Mrityu was glad to se that ray of white which was slightly brighter than the rest of the monochrome grey everything… grey everywhere ……but the opening of hope.

Before he could get tempted to open the door, his feet were dragged towards a series of other glimmers that came from a chain of windows that were further down, away from the door. Releasing his glance from the door.. Mrityu was tempted to take a dekko at one of the windows. Mrityu paused near one of the windows, which by itself opened wider with an immense blinding white glow emanating from it, that gradually faded to show a scene. Looking at this Mrityu got a deep intuitive feeling that one of his closely guarded questions would be answered. The questions were linked to the repeated sighting of monks and soldiers throughout his life before Greydom. One of those answers was now smiling wide at him through the window, with its dazzle gradually toning down to show the scenes it held.

He could gradually see hopes of many more answers smiling at him through the other windows too. The maindoor from where he entered however was to wait longer for him, since the best part of the show was to be savoured last.. with the biggest mystery awaiting to be unveiled. A little more about the symbols that flashed in Mrityu’s mind that coincided with his sighting in the train - The Monk and his wrinkles, little less shrivelled though and the Same Group of Soldiers, but in a different uniform. The question however was why did Mrityu's mind seek "answers" in these symbols that flashed while the loudest and fastest element--- the train was forgotten!

------End of episode two-----------

Episode three:

Reminiscence from the first window

Mrityu’s sight got anchored back to the first window where he could now see a beautiful scenery that kept him spellbound, as much as he felt familiarly at home with it. The landscape it showed was a scenic Himalayan village, fortified by the gigantic snowclad peaks with ribbons of glaciers turning into rivers. Melting.. trickling.. flowing and roaring rivers.. straight to the village, which gave Mrityu a deep sense of Deja-vu, as though a scene was brought out alive from his past… as though he still remembered the taste of the water from the streams and the sounds it made as it gushed down the valley. He could now see the villagers who dotted from the village enjoying the dawn, including few of them rushing to the monastery across the rope bridge that connected the village across the river. He felt one among the villagers, despite never having visited that place in his life! Perhaps the present life! Perhaps the life which he would be in when he would wake up from this Grey dream. He just wished that he could see the whole scenery carefully as it told him a story, before he would be awakened back to the real world.

He could now hear the people speak as they approached the Monastery, which had tall gold-clad statues of the Buddha. There were scores of disciples busy chanting, and among them was a fresh student Lama by the name of Mayo. Eversince his childhood, Mayo seemed disinterested in rearing sheeps like his father did. His mind stayed concentrated on the West peak named Domar La, where he was hoping to find answers to some of the questions he had about life and his existence. He was fascinated about the peak and was thrilled about finding out his answers which he believed were hidden in the majestic presence of the peaks. He was undettered by the record number of lives that the peak took toll of, some of them mountaineers and few of them.. seekers of truth too.

With hopes of keeping their son safe and alive at the same time to drive him into a Holy life, Mayo’s parents entrusted him to the Zydong Monastery under the guidance of the great Master there. He was forced to lead a super-disciplined life that made him eat the same diet daily, wear the same clothes and chant the same verses.. over and over again. The routine was killing Mayo and he started feeling being more and more distanced from the answers that he sought. One morning he stood gazing at the great Domar La peak, when the great Master asked him about his fixed gaze. Upon hearing Mayo’s belief about the peak, the Master laughed and said that the peak was nothing but a burial ground of snow. Mayo felt hurt since the Master hit directly at his closely nurtured faith.

At this moment Mrityunjay could sense not just Mayo’s feeling but also his heartbeats that was in absolute synchrony with his. All of a sudden he felt as though the window was gone and he was in the Monastery looking at the scene through the tearful eyes of Mayo. He could feel Mayo’s footsteps which were now escaping the monastery towards the moonlit forest. He was careful to leave behind an apology note and a prayer wheel to his Master. Mayo had decided to find his own way to Domar La and the truth.

During his lifetime Mrityunjay did have a couple of dreams of the colorful Tibet and had a desire to visit the place too. He found himself now walking in Mayo’s shoes.. in his clothes.. in his body and soul. He breathed the fresh icy air of the forest, with his gaze fixed at Domar La, undettered by the call of the snow wolves to the hazy full moon. Mayo maintained his walk .. he slipped… stumbled.. even found a torn flag of an unknown nation with an ice sickle , but no mountaineer who could hold it! The haunting spirits of the forests couldn’t hold him back from the even worse hazards of the lonesome trail beyond. Finally dawn broke… with the dark of the sky turning into that familiar colour of Grey. Mayo and not surprisingly, Mrityunjay had now a deep feeling that their answers were just at an arms length away, when their attention was caught by the grey haze of the dawn break.. it even blanketed that of the snow. Through.. Mayo’s eyes Mrityu saw the grey grow and bring him back to the corridor where he was…. From where he could see himself now separate from Mayo who now Lay on the bed of snow, just few feet before he could reach the peak of Domar La. Before any further questions could reach his mind and bind him to the place Mrityu thought had lived before as Mayo, the window shut with a great blinding dazzle that made him almost forget the whole sighting.

But what did remain in his mind unshaken was the wrinkles of the Monk in the train that was fold-to-fold similar to that of the Master who had warned him against the fascination of the Domar La peak.

The sighting was over like a two hour movie, except that here Mrityu was on the other side of the screen living and experiencing the whole scene as real as living it... being brought back to the state of Greydom at the end of it. But he had few more windows to go through where he could perhaps find the answers to the unanswered riddles of Mayo .. the riddles of his own past.

The story will be continued... watch out for this space again in sometime or leave your mail id in the comments!