Storms, clouds and some sunshine…

I was cleaning my cupboard last evening with a dogged resolve that I would finish with this torment without postponing it even further. I was also simultaneously washing clothes and cooking to break the monotony of dusting, cleaning and changing papers.

As I reached the fourth level of my cupboard where I stack books, I managed to very successfully topple the whole lot onto the floor very clumsily. Between loud sneezes and clatter of vessels (Yeah, I managed to tumble them as well, I SO hate that Murphy guy), I tried rearranging them hurriedly, when my eyes rested on a very insignificant looking brown-paper covered notebook, that was left behind in the general noise and clutter. I picked the book up uncertainly and started reading it. It was my long -forgotten diary.

As I journeyed through my college days that I had enjoyed with reckless abandon, my books and vessels lay forgotten around me. My first friends, trivial incidents that broke my heart, failure, guilt, victory, anger, ecstasy, sadness...

The day I bunked a class, got yelled at by a teacher for forgetting my assignment, the day my best friend cried and all I could do was look on, the taste of hard failure, meeting with a celebrity for an interview, my first award from college , new buddies, the day I truly realized my worth, and...The day I finally cried.

Ups and down at home, squabbles with cousins, uncle’s birthday bash, family vacation, and many more incidents that ripped, tore, mended my heart. And before even I could realize - I was crying. Tears streaked my face in an inconsolable stream. All the pent up emotions, frustrations and agonies resurfaced. I was ashamed. I was ashamed of crying. Still, I cried with all the strength I could muster. I cried with gratitude, I cried in pain, I cried for others. I cried until I went to bed.

I woke up with a sore throat, still dazed and realized that the diary which was so much a part of me had been forgotten. I hastily flipped to the last entry. It was dated August 14th. Exactly a week before something in me died. Forever.

But all the bawling I did certainly made me feel lighter. Though I hate to admit it –it does feel good to let out emotions once in a while. Maybe there is still hope.

Of monkeys and terror…

As I was madly rushing down the three long floors of my apartment, determined to catch the ever-elusive bus today morning, someone on the second floor warned me against something that awaited me on the next floor. My mind already at the bus stop, contemplating on how I could brave the crowds today, did not hear an inkling of what he said. I made a gesture with my head that vaguely looked like a nod and continued on my trail. As I flew down to the first floor, my legs automatically braked. I stood there, my heart at the throat ready to jump out. I could see a huge monkey sitting on the floor, eying me tentatively. The first reaction I could muster was a heart-piercing shriek.

The monkey just sat there and gave me a bored look. I could almost hear what it was thinking. "Yawn! Think of something else lady. I have heard about a million shrieks in my lifetime".
After my heart stopped thumping and started breathing normally, I looked up to see if that good old soul who had forewarned me was still around to shoo the monkey away. All I could hear was a slam of the door signaling the end of any outside help I could possibly get. It was now only me against the smelly monkey.

I dared to inch forward a bit and the monkey lunged to the railings. My heart by now had reached my mouth. One more move and it would come out. The monkey on the other hand showed no sign of agitation. It was telling me, "Let’s see if you have the guts to cross me baby".

I flapped my arms with a book (The Kite Runner :)) in hand, attempting to frighten it. All I managed to do was look like an oversized butterfly. I had by then assumed that the monkey was male. Well, given the goofing up and weak attempts at showing off, it surely had to be male!!!
Then help came from unexpected quarters. The male monkey’s girlfriend slowly loomed into focus. The minute she appeared, our hero started slinking away. She came and gave him the 'What have I told you about ogling at beautiful girls?" look. (Fine. Don’t gag. She probably gave him the 'Stop frightening her. She already looks like a scared chicken" look)

She prodded him and they both jumped up and vanished from the floor, but not before screeching their lungs out at me. I also joined in the chorus and the whole apartment shook. After the worst was over, I quickly scuttled away to catch my bus, the monkeys went back to monkeying around, but the whole neighborhood was wide awake. "Was that a terror attack?” I heard someone say.