Sunday, 1 September 2013

An Apple Abandoned...

“They want me to lead a team to a dispute zone near the border. Nothing I have not done before – piece of cake. Don’t worry, Dad, I will be back before you have the time to miss me”, Rajeev had insisted.

He drained the last drops of what was once a steaming cup of coffee and set it carefully on the coaster. The chipped edges of the cup gave away its decrepitude. The wooden chair creaked it’s protests when he leaned back and closed his eyes in exhaustion and despair. Much like the cup, he too was struggling through his winter years. Slowly and with painstaking precision, he etched a small straight line, with a worn-out nail that he had produced from his pocket, on one side of the table in front of him. This carved line was accommodated by 456 of its brothers next to it. The parched leaves above let out a rattling sigh, surrendering to the gentle breeze. 

He took one last bite of the apple and set it back next to the waiting chess-board. His trembling fingers started to edge towards the pieces on the game-board. He braced himself it was time to stow away his scrupulously laid out game. 


As he shuffled back towards his cold and lonely hearth, Nature seemed to mirror him mockingly. Weary birds returning to their humble abode were being engulfed in love and warmth. Crickets indulged in cheerful harmonics and the heavens were adorned in an obscene display of celestial hues.

But his attention was focused elsewhere, on the morrow. Another day had passed; another unfinished game that did not see its players reunited. Yet, his conviction remained unwavering; as it had been since the beginning tomorrow would be the day. It had been over a year, 457 days, to be precise, when Rajeev had got that phone call….. That one phone call that had brought all of their lives to a standstill…. 

After seven months in the trenches, Rajeev had finally come home to him….. His mother worked tirelessly in the kitchen preparing every dish that their son had ever relished. Every nook and cranny of the recently painted house had to be scrubbed, the lawn mowed, the garden trimmed. He fondly teased her about her compulsive need to clean everything till one could use it as a mirror. Though he would not admit it aloud, he was working hard to mask his own jubilance and love. His eyes shone with fierce pride as he sat across his son at a small table out in the garden playing chess. As his son made his next move, he could clearly see the inevitable outcome of the game – in just a few more moves, Rajeev would score his 3rd consecutive victory. As their eyes met, he could see that the spark of the imminent victory had induced a breathtaking smile on his Rajeev’s face, enhanced by the glow of the setting sun. But this moment was forever marred by the shrill call of a ringing phone.

 “They want me to lead a team to a dispute zone near the border. I have done this many times – piece of cake. Don’t worry, Dad, I will be back before you have the time to miss me”, Rajeev had insisted.

A fortnight had passed when, on a stormy afternoon, a military officer appeared at their doorstep carrying an official letter. 

There had been no remains to cremate. They had to bury an empty coffin; which is probably why, to this day, an old man could be found at every sunset waiting for his game to be finished.

The world dismissed his actions as that of a mad man. The world did not adopt his abject optimism. The world had grieved and learnt to forge on.    

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This blog entry is dedicated to my brother in soul and spirit and an extremely close friend - Pravesh Parekh.

I think that, judging by the quality of this piece, you would have already guessed that this is one of my first foray into fictional writing. During my almost year-long writer's block, he had inspired me to write this piece. I finally worded the images that had been painted in my head about half a year later.... well, that is just me... the master procrastinator! The words were then further enhanced by Labani Biswas, another great friend ( I am blessed in the friends department, I know!).

Pravesh Parekh maintains an excellent blog of his own. If you are not already following him, you can do so at:

http://requiem-for-a-lost-soul.blogspot.com/ 

To follow Biswas's blog, use the link:

http://biswaslabani.blogspot.in/





No comments:

Post a Comment