As I entered my neighbourhood, I spotted a hearse parked a few metres away from my house. Someone must be dead. My mind instantly assumed it to be the ill-treated and ailing father of the notorious neighbour staying diagonally across my house.
Isn’t it weird that the president of a jungle turns out to be a bush?!
However, being one of the ‘beneficiaries’ of imperialism, I do not take the responsibility of the truth behind what I am going to narrate next. Certain facts have been purposefully twisted for the sake of national (read: personal) security.
At that time, it was “Simon Go Back” and now 1st March 2006 reeks “Bush Go Back!” And since when did our college group ever fall behind in community service? Thus, they decided to burn the effigy of honourable Mr. George W. Bush.
It was around five and the evening sky was overcast. There was a soft breeze caressing the trees and the tang of fresh leaves mesmerized the senses. An evening could not have been better.
There were just three passengers in the bus. Two of them were elderly men and the third was I. I had made myself comfortable on a window seat. And in my trance of observing the beauteous fiasco, I had completely forgotten to notice my newly embarked co-passenger. It was only when the flying dupatta hit my face that I turned around to have a look at her. She was the perfect picture to be enframed in the beautiful evening. By her soft and tender appearance, I guessed that she was in her late teens. The long flowing hair and the hazel blue eyes; I could not have been luckier – she was too beautiful to sit beside me.
From the bed in our old house, I could see the park and all those playing there. How lucky they were!
Ma said that rats would come one day, take my teeth and give back stronger and sharper ones. “Ma, when will the rats come? It pains!” Ma was not there to hear me. Nobody hears me. Even Majid Bhai would not listen to me when I say that I’m spitting blood. Anyway, when everyone would be celebrating, I would have to work.
As for me, I am a thirty-two year old spinster, living alone in my eleventh floor apartment. And if you too think that I need a physical fitness program, let me tell you that I get enough by beating around the bush, by jumping to conclusions, by going round in circles and by running down my boss! Who wants more? Continue reading Too Lucky To Be Yours