Friday 20 December 2013

The Box full of dreams...


It happened on a clear starry night, while I was enjoying the lilting music created by the unruly waves against the sandy shore, in Goa. Couple of my friends were having an argument on whether the stars really govern our lives or destiny is what we make of it. The rationally irrational conversation slowly started heating up. By now I realized that my chances of enjoying a tranquil walk on the beach at the stroke of midnight seemed like a distant dream.

But then friend A said something that caught my attention. He said that someone asked him to collect energy in a box, so he can channelize it in the right way. I almost pinched myself to make sure that I heard it right…….collect energy in a box!!!! Last time I checked, boxes were used to collect candies. And then the thought struck me. The little angel of imagination in my mind did a happy flip and my mind carried me far far away from my friends, from the discussion and from the real world of sand, stars and sea.

My mind took me to my childhood room. I could see myself kneeling down beside my bed and looking under it for the Box. It was dark and musty in there.

The place smelt of old memories and happy childhood.

I moved the cartons filled with old text books, family albums and knick-knacks. The big bag with my old toys jingled somewhere in the corner as I ran my fingers over it. I kept dismantling the intricate cobwebs from the packages of my past and looked for the Box. It should be here somewhere….it’s here where I had kept it.

The sudden gleam caught my eyes.

I stopped and turned towards the corner of the bed. It was sitting there, poised and mystical, like the holy grail. I crawled my way inside and reached out for the Box. I held it, felt the warmth and let it seep inside me.
Once outside in the open air, I removed the layer of dust and set it on the desk. The intricate wood-work still fascinates me. It is a square wooden box with patterns on the surface. The pattern looks more like a puzzle to me….from a certain angle it looks like a butterfly…but from another it looks like an angry man’s face. I remembered staring at the box as a kid for hours trying to decide which pattern I liked the most. I couldn't decide.

I was ‘happy’ seeing the carefree butterfly and ‘sad’ on seeing the angry man’s scowling face. Being happy and sad were pretty much the only 2 emotions that we have as a child. It starts getting complicated as we grow up.

I don’t remember exactly when I had decided to make this particular box, the Box to hold my dreams.
I slowly lifted the lid and uncovered the box. Years of darkness and tranquility was suddenly given a rude shock as the glaring light fell on the sleepy contents of the box. There were some small folded papers inside the box. I picked up those papers and started unfolding them….unfolding my dreams that I had dreamt years back and had put them in a box….and forgotten about them.

I unfolded all the papers and placed them on the desk. The little pieces of paper were like little parts of me lying on the desk. I had lived all these lives individually inside my head at some point in time.

So what exactly had I dreamt?

I want to be a firefly
I want to travel the world alone
I want to sing like a nightingale and dance like the bird of paradise
I want to be a chef
I want to love and be loved
I want to stay in a house whose bricks are books
I want to be the start…..and the end
I want to be a photographer
I want to nurture and care
I want to write a book

My eyes turned moist and my vision blurred.

I folded the little chits neatly and kept them back in the box. Before closing the lid, I pulled a piece of paper and scribbled a last dream on it:

I want to run in the rain till I become the ‘Rain’

I folded the paper and put it inside the Box….closed the lid and put it back to where it was.


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Thursday 26 September 2013

The Mystical Flutist - Full Story

Chapter 1: The first tune

Tuhi opened the window, the air was crisp and chilly. She pulled the cardigan closely around her shoulder and stood there. The dormitory room behind her was quite, as the other girls have not woken up yet. Tuhi looked straight at the rising sun and folded her hands in prayer, just as her mother had taught her. Today the school re-opens after summer vacation, and Tuhi will start her year at standard VII. She is excited, scared and a little sad to leave her mom, dad, and mostly Didan. After a month long vacation Tuhi and her friends are back at St. Mary’s School, at Ooty for their new term. The morning bell rang, and Tuhi could hear the other girls waking slowly. She collected her uniform and headed for the bathroom.
Tuhi is 12 years old, soft spoken, and naïve, with a heart of gold. She trusts her friends easily and forgives her enemies too easily. The only constant emotion in her world is Love. It’s almost like she lives within this huge bubble through which she sees the world as a beautiful place…full of love and trust. Her mother at times would sit next to her bed when she’s asleep and sob, thinking of what her little girl will go through when the bubble bursts. But she knew just too well that the bubble had to burst.
The new semester started with a lot of hustle and bustle. New books, new syllabus, new teachers, new subjects, new challenges, new growing up. Tuhi almost lost track of time in the midst of the din. It was late one Saturday evening, she finished her dance classes and lazily walked towards the old tower house. This place was at the back of the playground and was not frequented by the students much. Tuhi came here whenever she wanted to be on her own…which was quite often. She had many friends whom she loved a lot. But still she loves being away from the maddening crowd, losing herself in her ‘own little world’. Here sitting on the dilapidated iron bench, she watches the birds sing, leaves slowly dropping from the trees and falling right on her lap, the stars playing hide and seek with the clouds. When she is here alone, she can be anyone and go anywhere. While sometimes she’s flying across the Turkish minarets on Alladin’s flying carpet, on others she day-dreams like Belle or runs away from home like Rapunzel with a total stranger, just to fulfill her dream.
Today, she came to the old tower after a long time…thanks to the crazy schedule. But before she crossed the old tower house she stopped short at her track….what was the music she could hear. It was soft and sad. It was like someone was crying, just that the tears could not be seen…but heard. Tuhi slowly walked towards her usual place….the old and dwindling iron bench under the pine tree, from where she watches the setting sun. She saw a figure sitting at her spot…hunched over, playing a flute. She slowly moved forward to get a closer look. The boy was almost her age, fair, skinny, his hair fell over his eyes, which were shut. His head tilted to a side as he played the flute. Tuhi was mesmerized by the tune. She knew the song….had heard it many times. But today for the first time it felt like the song was meant for her……and only, for her to hear.
Duur deshi shei rakhal chele
Amar bate boter chayai
Shara bela gelo khele…..

(The shepherd boy from the far away land
Came to my garden and played under the shade of the tree…)

The boy stopped and looked up…straight at Tuhi. She had never seen so much pain in anyone’s eye. Tears welled up in her eyes seeing those eyes, the colour of deep forest pool. She was about to take a step towards the bench. But the boy suddenly got up and the pain in his eyes quickly gave way to fear. Before Tuhi could even stop him he ran away. Tuhi stood their motionless, unable to fathom what just happened. Who was this boy? Where did he come from? Where did he go? What did he tell her?





Chapter 2: The unsaid words

Tuhi told her friends about the ‘strange boy’. But no one had heard of any new student, and it was unlikely that any new student will join in the middle of the semester. Couple of days passed, and Tuhi forgot about the boy…but the tune lingered on in her mind.

Gailo ki gaan shei ta jane
Suur baaje tar amar prane….
Bolo dekhi tomra ki tar
Kothar kono abhash pele….

(Only he knows what he was singing
But the tune lingers in my heart….
Can anyone tell me what is it, he was talking about….)

It was Thursday, laundry day. Tuhi collected her soiled clothes and was on her way to the girls’ laundry room. While she was crossing the staff quarters she heard him. She stopped at her tracks. Tears swelled in her eyes…again. She followed the music and found him sitting under the old banyan tree, eyes closed, head tilted to a side, playing his flute. Tuhi walked up to him. The boy looked up, saw her and stopped playing. He slowly stood up facing Tuhi….the flute tightly clasped in his hands. He looked at her as if he was waiting for her since an eternity….as if ‘she’ was the only person he ever wanted to see. Tuhi didn’t know what to say. No one had ever seen her like this before. She fidgeted, but couldn’t look away from ‘those eyes the colour of deep forest pool’.

But then someone called out Tuhi’s name from behind. Tuhi looked around and saw Alisha and Veena, had come looking for her. Before she could turn back the boy ran away again. This surprised her, why did he ran away. She wanted him to meet her friends. But he was gone.

“What are you doing here?” Alisha asked Tuhi.
“Nothing”, she replied, her eyes still looking at the old banyan tree.
“Why do you always wander along Tuhi?” Veena complained.

Tuhi carried on with her daily chores. But after dinner when she went to bed….she couldn’t hold herself anymore. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt sad, angry, elated, betrayed and a whole lot of other things. But she didn’t know what exactly she was feeling. She had never felt this way before. Though she had not hurt herself, she felt a strange pain and her tears just wouldn’t stop. Every time she closed her eyes she could see those ‘deep green eyes’ soo full of pain. This wrenched her heart more. Tuhi cannot see anyone in pain. When she was 6 years old, in her Kolkata house a sparrow had built a nest on the ‘chile-kotha’ (a small room at the rooftop). The sparrow had given birth to 3 little baby sparrows. Tuhi loved to hear the little birdies chirp and every afternoon she would sneak up to the roof to see the babies. One morning when she woke up, she saw that a little sparrow had fallen from the nest and was lying hurt on the staircase. Tuhi was hysterical. She gently picked up the little one, put it on a stack of cotton and tried feeding it. But the little bird was too small to eat on its own. Tuhi sat with the bird the whole day, and refused to move from there, no matter how much her mother insisted. By the end of the day the little bird, who was hurt and traumatized….died. Tuhi’s heart broke. She cried for 2 days and sulked for many more to come. That was her first tryst with death and loss.

Tuhi attended her classes, went for the dance practices, participated in the church choir and continued with her life. Nothing seemed to have changed apparently, but deep within she just couldn’t shake off that pain. It gripped her heart, and ever so often clouded her eyes. She had never felt anything like this before…it was as if nothing was making any sense. She did her homework, giggled with her friends, laughed at the jokes….but couldn’t feel anything. The only time when she remembered “those eyes the colour of deep forest pool” that her heart ‘twisted, twirled & twitched’ in pain.





Chapter 3: The beckoning

It was while she was fighting with this confusing state of heart that the most unexpected thing happened. Tuhi was walking back from the choir practice with her friends. The November chill has started setting in and the valley snuggled cozily within the thick blanket of fog. The girls walked down the road, lined with eucalyptus trees, next to the staff quarters. Tuhi was taking in the heady smell of the eucalyptus, while humming a tune in her head. Suddenly she stopped at her track. Behind the old pine tree next to history teacher, Mrs James quarter, ‘those eyes the colour of deep forest pool’ appeared. Tuhi slowed down, so her friends could walk ahead. The shadowy figure emerged from behind the tree and stood, staring at Tuhi. He then gave her a faint smile and beckoned her. Tuhi’s heart flipped and her stomach did a somersault. She followed him down the narrow alley behind the staff quarters. He was walking ahead, and every 2 seconds turned his head to see if Tuhi is still following his trail. They crossed the playground, and headed straight towards the old tower house. Tuhi immediately remembered the first time she met ‘the boy’ here. What was his name? He never told it to Tuhi. It never seemed necessary….

Now he reached the old dwindling iron bench and stopped. He motioned Tuhi to sit and went and perched up on the other corner. He waited expectantly till Tuhi sat down. Tuhi felt weird that someone was asking her to sit at her own spot. She wanted to tell him that this is her ‘little world’ where she comes when she’s sad, happy or sad & happy. And it is he who without even knocking has stepped into her world. But she kept quiet. She somehow just couldn’t speak when those eyes are looking straight at her. She sat down, obediently. He then took out the flute from his pocket and started playing it. The music, ever so soothing and ever so painful engulfed her. To her it didn’t seem like music, it was more like his voice, talking to her. She closed her eyes….as tears streamed down her cheeks.  But they were happy tears, as Tuhi had never felt soo happy in her entire life.

Duur deshi shei rakhal chele
Amar bate boter chayai
Shara bela gelo khele…..

Gailo ki gaan shei ta jane
Suur baaje tar amar prane….
Bolo dekhi tomra ki tar
Kothar kono abhash pele….

(The shepherd boy from the far away land
Came to my garden and played under the shade of the tree

Only he knows what he was singing
But the tune lingers in my heart….
Can anyone tell me what is it, he was talking about …)

In front of them the sun was setting lazily behind the undulating Nilgiri range. The sun seemed to be in no hurry today. It spread its dusk glow like a warm hug on the two little kids sitting on the old dwindling iron bench, with their eyes closed, tears streaming down both their young pink cheeks.

The music stopped. Tuhi opened her eyes and looked at him. His head was tilted to a side, and the soft green eyes glistened warmly. He got off the bench and slowly walked to where Tuhi was sitting and stood facing her. He had not moved his gaze from her for a minute. There was a strange intensity in his eyes, which reminded Tuhi of the way she and her friends study the night before their exam. It’s almost like they drink in all the words in the book so they will never forget the black & white print. He was now standing facing her. Tuhi’s heart leapt to her mouth. She tried putting up a brave face and continued looking at him. But deep inside, her heart was twitching and twisting like poor Bambi caught in a vine. He held her hand. His eyes were like warm summer day, assuring and gentle. Tuhi was glad to see that the dark clouds of pain was nowhere to be seen. She drew a deep breath, and before she could understand anything she stood up hastily.

“My name is Tuhi. It means the ‘chirping of birds’. What is your name?”, she blurted in one breath and looked up at him.

He stood there in silence. But the gentleness of the summer day has been replaced by the stormy dark clouds. Tuhi was confused. What did she say to make him so upset? She looked at him with pleading eyes. But he looked like he was just being stricken across the face. He lifted Tuhi’s hand and before she could understand anything, he removed the silver bracelet with the dangling star from her wrist. Tuhi gasped. That was her most prized possession. It was a gift from her Didan (Grandmother) on her 10th birthday, and she never removes it. Didan had given it to her and told her that the little dangling star will look after little Tuhi and protect her always. She couldn’t believe that the boy had removed it from her hands. She became livid, angry tears rolled down her cheeks. She was just about to lunge at him to get back her silver bracelet. But he started retreating fast. Tuhi just couldn’t make sense of anything. Why did he get her here? If all he wanted was the silver bracelet, he could have taken it near the staff quarters. And why is he looking like he’s in soo much pain, after he took the bracelet.

“Why did you take my silver bracelet?” she shouted. But the boy now turned his back and started running, faltering over the playground as his vision was blurred too. Tuhi’s head reeled and she sat under the pine tree next to the iron bench. She dropped her face between her knees and cried.

Ami tare shudhay jabe ‘Ki tomare dibo ani’-
She sudhu koy ‘Ar kichhu noi, tomar golar malakhani’

(I asked him, “What is it that I can get for you”
He replied, “I want nothing but the necklace around your neck”)

The moon peeped from behind the clouds and seeing the little girl crying hid behind the clouds again. She knows that the first heart-break is the most difficult pain for a girl. The moon wished she could hold the little girl and cradle her gently till her tears dry. She asked her firefly friends to help her. The fireflies flew down to Tuhi and glowed gently around the little girl. If anyone could see the little girl crouching under the pine tree now, they would think that the fairy godmother had made a ‘circle of angels’ around her to keep her safe.

The next few days went like the worst nightmare for Tuhi. In her head she had gone through that evening some hundred times, but still nothing made sense. There were so many questions in her head. But where will she get the answer. She had crossed the staff quarter in the pretext of some work or other almost 10 times a day. She had even gone behind the pine tree pretending that she lost an earring. But he was nowhere to be seen. No one had seen him, and Tuhi will never see him again.

It was almost after a week that Tuhi walked past the playground and climbed towards the old tower house. Her heart twisted at the sight of the old dwindling iron bench. She slowly dragged herself towards it and slumped down at the same place she sat that evening. Her eyes stinged and big fat tears rolled down her cheek again. Tuhi wondered exactly how many gallons of tears can her body hold. She held her face in her hand and the only word she could utter was “why….why….why”. Just as she was wiping her eyes with the back of her palm, something familiar caught her eyes, below the pine tree. Tuhi got down and walked towards it. As she bent down and removed the dry pine leaves, her amber eyes widened.  

She picked up the flute and held it in her hands.

Di jodi toh ki dam debe jai bela shei bhabna bhebe
Phire eshe dekhi dhulai bashi ti tar geche phele

(If I give you my necklace how will you repay me?
He kept thinking about it the whole day
At daybreak when I came back
I found he has left his flute on my garden)

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Chapter 4: And ‘now’

“Hmmm. But do I need to go today itself”, Tuhi asked on the phone, sounding a little distracted.

Roma, her manager tried to explain in her high-pitched and fast paced voice that the fund-raising event was next day, and Tuhi had to reach Ooty tonight. Tomorrow morning she had arranged for a breakfast meeting with the founder of the NGO, who has arranged for the fund raising event. Tuhi had asked for this meeting as she was very eager to know more about the organisation and would like to extend her support to them. They were doing very good work by teaching the deaf, dumb and blind children to read, write and pursue a vocation of their choice and capability so that they can be independent human beings. Roma kept babbling how this event will garner good coverage for Tuhi and how the owner of the NGO insisted that no one but Tuhi Banerjee should be the artist performing for the evening.

But Tuhi’s mind had drifted elsewhere. She was thinking of the NGO, and what a noble cause the founder has been working on. In the last 2 years Tuhi has achieved much fame as a singer. Singing had always been her passion, and she didn’t realize when her passion turned into her profession. But for her, her passion is still bigger than any fame. Deep within her heart she wants to do something as selfless as this NGO founder. She wants to spread happiness and smile among those who appreciate life. In her own way she tries to do as much as she can for such causes. Her concert for ‘Banshi’ (Flute) - the NGO was one such effort to do her bit for the little kids.

“Ok, so I will arrange for your tickets to Ooty and mail it across to you”, with that Roma hung up.

Tuhi looked around her desk, and straightened the pristine white photo frame. For a second her eyes caught Ishaan’s smiling face in the photo frame. It was a photo of her and Ishaan at Udaipur, taken last year during their anniversary. She has known Ishaan for 6 years now, and they are married for 3 years. Tuhi always considers herself lucky to have Ishaan in her life. It was not a love at first sight for Tuhi (though she always thought that’s how it will happen). She couldn’t hear any bells ringing, angels singing around her or showering flower petals from heaven. ….all of which she was very sure would have happened when she fell in love with her man. Buts instead what happened was,  for the first time in life Tuhi learnt to appreciate herself, love herself and grow more confident. He gave her the wings to fly.
People who knew them said they had a ‘perfect marriage’. Perfect it definitely is….but still Tuhi cannot understand why at times a grey cloud lurks in her thoughts whenever she sits alone. What is it that she pines for….she doesn’t know. It’s almost like no matter how many accolades and awards she wins and how great she sings….Tuhi knows that her music can never touch the soul in a way ‘the sound of the flute’ did. At this sudden thought Tuhi shuddered. She quickly picked up the phone and dialed a number.

“Hello love. How was your day today?”, a reassuringly kind voice answered. The moment Tuhi heard her husband the frown on her forehead vanished and the dimpled smile was back.

The bus for Ooty left Bangalore at 10:45 PM. As she waved at Ishaan, Tuhi felt pangs of guilt over leaving him alone over the weekend and that too at such a short notice. But she knew that he would understand. As one by one her co-passengers dozed off, Tuhi pulled the shawl closely around her shoulder and leaned against the foggy window. It has been 11 years, since Tuhi last went to Ooty, to her alma mater. After completing her junior college from St. Mary’s School, Tuhi had never gone back to Ooty. Now when she thinks of her boarding school days…it seems like a different life altogether. As she closed her eyes, she saw herself with her two neat ponytails hanging over her shoulder sitting with her best friends sharing ‘imli ka achar’, stealing guavas from Mr. Jame’s immaculate garden or taking the old care-takers cat and painting its tail blue.  Life was carefree and fun. In school they were not afraid to dream, as they had not experienced the pain of dreams shattering. Suddenly ‘the music’ played inside Tuhi’s head. Instinctively her eyes moistened and her heart grew heavy. In these 11 years a lot has changed…..except this. Till this day whenever Tuhi thinks of those ‘eyes the colour of deep forest pool’, her heart twinges and the sharp pain clouds her eyes. She reached out inside her bag and took out the flute. Whenever she goes for any concert the flute is always with her….it is her inspiration. Tuhi held the flute close to her heart and closed her eyes.

Ooty has changed so much over the years that Tuhi almost felt like she has come to the wrong place. The serene and picturesque hill station has become a cluttered town. With people jostling, cars honking and tourists milling around, the earlier sleepy little hill station looks forcefully busy and tired. The car was waiting for Tuhi, the driver, a short round man, greeted her with a big smile. Tuhi reached the hotel, freshened up and got ready for the breakfast meeting with the founder of Banshi. She checked her watch, it was 09.20 AM and her meeting was at 10:00 AM. She told the driver to wait back, as she wanted to walk down to the NGO office.

The road leading to the Botanical Garden has not changed much, except that there are too many shops now along the side of the road. As Tuhi’s feet trudged along the uphill road, her mind walked down the winding memory lane. In school days, during their Sunday trip to the market place Tuhi and her friends used to come here to buy sugar candies and mirchi pakodas (chily fries). A young boy saw Tuhi standing and came to her with packets of colorful sugar candies and imli golis hanging around his neck. She bought 3 packets of candies from him and slipped it in her bag. In her mind she silently gifted them to her best friends Alisha and Veena.

When Tuhi reached Banshi, she was taken aback by the simplicity of the office set-up. It was a modest 2 storied building, with the classrooms on the first floor, and the office and children’s’ residence on the ground floor. As soon as she entered, a big writing on the wall caught her attention:

No voice in this world can be louder than silence.
If anyone can understand your silence.
They can never misunderstand your words.

She walked towards the reception area, where a chubby kind-faced young girl looked at her from behind the desk and smiled.

“I’m here to meet Mr Surjo Sengupta. I have an appointment at 10:00 AM.” The girl quickly typed something on her keyboard, jumped down from her chair and went inside a big brown door. Tuhi stood there, and looked around. She saw a group of children sitting under the big banyan tree in the garden. They looked on attentively as a middle-aged woman wrote something on the black-board and then explained with gestures. A faint sound of piano floated in the air. Tuhi walked across the lobby to the big glass room, and saw a little girl bent over a huge piano. She opened the door and walked towards the girl. The little girl was staring hard at the big sheet of musical note and was struggling with the right chord. Tuhi gently bent over and touched the little girl’s shoulder affectionately. She then hummed the tune and played it on the piano. The little girl clapped out relieved and hugged Tuhi tightly. Tuhi was taken aback by this simple and unadulterated show of gratitude. The girl then jumped off the high stool, faced Tuhi and touched both her palm on her chin and gestured something. Tuhi was completely lost as she doesn’t understand sign language. Seeing her confusion the little girl gave her a big smile, ran to the white board next to the piano and scribbled ‘Thank you so much’. Tuhi was overwhelmed, she walked to the girl and hugged her tight, tears streaming down her cheek.

Just then there was a soft knock at the door. Tuhi looked up to see the kind faced young receptionist. She gestured Tuhi to come with her. Tuhi quickly wiped off her tears and took a deep breath to compose herself. She waved at the little girl and left the music room. While crossing the lobby the writing on the wall caught her attention again – “No voice in this world can be louder than silence.” Suddenly a memory from years back flashed across her mind.

“My name is Tuhi. It means the ‘chirping of birds’. What is your name?” she blurted in one breath and looked up at him.

He stood there in silence…...”

Tuhi quickly tore herself from that memory and walked towards the big brown door. She was really looking forward to meeting Mr. Sengupta. He has been doing some great work, and she would love to support him in whatever little way she could. Tuhi’s mind was soo occupied with the thoughts of how she could change the lives of these kids that she didn’t realize that soon her life is going to be changed forever.

Tuhi followed the young receptionist inside the room. The room was very different from the rest of the building. It had thick wooden walls, and what caught her attention immediately was the 2 walls that had book shelves right from the floor till the ceiling. Right next to the bookshelf was a huge oil painting of a little girl and a boy sitting with their back, on a bench under an old pine tree, watching the setting sun. Tuhi stopped for a second in front of the painting, taking in the warm hues of the canvas. She liked the way the girl rested her head on the boy’s shoulder. She heard a soft rustling behind her, and turned around, suddenly remembering why she had come in here. She was so absorbed by the surroundings in the room, that for a moment she felt like she belonged here.

As Tuhi turned around she saw a huge desk. Behind the desk a tall man was sitting on a chair, bending over some of the papers. He was wearing a blue tweed jacket over a white shirt. He had a strong jawline, and wore black-rimmed glasses. She couldn’t see more, as he was looking down. He signed the papers with a practiced flourish and gestured the young lady to leave. He then removed his glasses and stood facing Tuhi.

As Tuhi’s eyes met those ‘eyes the colour of deep forest pool’, she shuddered and her head reeled. She quickly held on to the chair in front of her and steadied herself. He slowly walked around the table, pulled the chair and made her sit. She looked up at him, and this time she knew that it was him. Her heart is beating so hard that she can feel the pain throbbing through her veins. He slowly walked towards the huge French window and pulled the curtain. As the room plunged into darkness, Tuhi’s mind grew number. ‘He’ was always a puzzle for her….but what is happening now is surreal.

He flicked a switch and a big projector screen lighted up right in front of Tuhi. He walked up to the desk and sat on the corner of the desk…just inches away from her As the familiar sound of the flute started playing…..Tuhi looked up and saw these words flashed across the screen:

“Hi Tuhi, my name is Surjo. It means ‘mighty as the sun’.

I cannot speak. I was born this way, and had made my peace with my silent life…until I met YOU. The first day I saw you near the old tower-house I found what I had been looking for all my life. I found my muse, who added soul to my music. I wanted to hold your hand and bring you to my world and tell you how much I had longed for you. But how could I have told you Tuhi, as in my world there is no voice, no words, no song.

My parents died when I was very young. Mrs James, your history teacher at St. Mary’s was my godmother. She had no children so she took care of me after my parents’ death. I used to stay with her mother at her village house. One year, when I was 14, Aunty James could not visit her village, as she had a surgery, and so I along with Grandma James came to visit her at her quarters in Ooty. It was during this visit that I met you.

I still remember the last day, before leaving for village. I knew I had to meet you once as I knew deep down that you understood my silence. You could read my eyes, and no words could ever express what my music had expressed to you. Do you remember the song I played for you that day? You had tears in your eyes. And when I held your hands you shivered. It was perfect….until you spoke. You asked me my name and my dream burst. I realized, we need words between us…as you couldn’t understand my silence. The very moment that you gave me the meaning of my life…you took away from me the reason to live. I knew I couldn’t live without you, and neither could I be with you.

I knew I would never see you again. But I could not go empty handed. I wanted something of yours that I can keep as my own. So I took your bracelet. I know you were hurt Tuhi…but I didn’t want to hurt you. I had to have something that belonged to you…..if not your heart.

I never played the flute since that day. My music was for you…and it stayed with you.

I knew you had a lot of unanswered questions that you had carried along with you for so many years. I hope I could answer them today.

This school that you see here, is built so that no other ‘Tuhi’ ever goes without getting an answer to her questions. Yes Tuhi, when I met you, had I been able to write or express myself you need not have to carry on this burden within your heart for so long. But I didn’t know how to read or write, as no school entertained children like us. At ‘Banshi’, I give voice to the young people who do not have a voice of their own.

This is all I have to say. Your bracelet lies on the desk. You can take it, as now I have lived you for so many years that I do not need anything else to remind me of you. I’m YOU.”

With this, the projector screen went blank. Darkness filled the room. Surjo walked towards the window and pulled back the curtains. The warm glow of the morning sun streamed in through the huge glass window….softly hugging the two people who sat there in silence.

--------The End-------

The Mystical Flutist-IV

Chapter 4: And ‘now


“Hmmm. But do I need to go today itself”, Tuhi asked on the phone, sounding a little distracted.

Roma, her manager tried to explain in her high-pitched and fast paced voice that the fund-raising event was next day, and Tuhi had to reach Ooty tonight. Tomorrow morning she had arranged for a breakfast meeting with the founder of the NGO, who has arranged for the fund raising event. Tuhi had asked for this meeting as she was very eager to know more about the organisation and would like to extend her support to them. They were doing very good work by teaching the deaf, dumb and blind children to read, write and pursue a vocation of their choice and capability so that they can be independent human beings. Roma kept babbling how this event will garner good coverage for Tuhi and how the owner of the NGO insisted that no one but Tuhi Banerjee should be the artist performing for the evening.

But Tuhi’s mind had drifted elsewhere. She was thinking of the NGO, and what a noble cause the founder has been working on. In the last 2 years Tuhi has achieved much fame as a singer. Singing had always been her passion, and she didn’t realize when her passion turned into her profession. But for her, her passion is still bigger than any fame. Deep within her heart she wants to do something as selfless as this NGO founder. She wants to spread happiness and smile among those who appreciate life. In her own way she tries to do as much as she can for such causes. Her concert for ‘Banshi’ (Flute) - the NGO was one such effort to do her bit for the little kids.

“Ok, so I will arrange for your tickets to Ooty and mail it across to you”, with that Roma hung up.

Tuhi looked around her desk, and straightened the pristine white photo frame. For a second her eyes caught Ishaan’s smiling face in the photo frame. It was a photo of her and Ishaan at Udaipur, taken last year during their anniversary. She has known Ishaan for 6 years now, and they are married for 3 years. Tuhi always considers herself lucky to have Ishaan in her life. It was not a love at first sight for Tuhi (though she always thought that’s how it will happen). She couldn’t hear any bells ringing, angels singing around her or showering flower petals from heaven. ….all of which she was very sure would have happened when she fell in love with her man. Buts instead what happened was,  for the first time in life Tuhi learnt to appreciate herself, love herself and grow more confident. He gave her the wings to fly.
People who knew them said they had a ‘perfect marriage’. Perfect it definitely is….but still Tuhi cannot understand why at times a grey cloud lurks in her thoughts whenever she sits alone. What is it that she pines for….she doesn’t know. It’s almost like no matter how many accolades and awards she wins and how great she sings….Tuhi knows that her music can never touch the soul in a way ‘the sound of the flute’ did. At this sudden thought Tuhi shuddered. She quickly picked up the phone and dialed a number.

“Hello love. How was your day today?”, a reassuringly kind voice answered. The moment Tuhi heard her husband the frown on her forehead vanished and the dimpled smile was back.

The bus for Ooty left Bangalore at 10:45 PM. As she waved at Ishaan, Tuhi felt pangs of guilt over leaving him alone over the weekend and that too at such a short notice. But she knew that he would understand. As one by one her co-passengers dozed off, Tuhi pulled the shawl closely around her shoulder and leaned against the foggy window. It has been 11 years, since Tuhi last went to Ooty, to her alma mater. After completing her junior college from St. Mary’s School, Tuhi had never gone back to Ooty. Now when she thinks of her boarding school days…it seems like a different life altogether. As she closed her eyes, she saw herself with her two neat ponytails hanging over her shoulder sitting with her best friends sharing ‘imli ka achar’, stealing guavas from Mr. Jame’s immaculate garden or taking the old care-takers cat and painting its tail blue.  Life was carefree and fun. In school they were not afraid to dream, as they had not experienced the pain of dreams shattering. Suddenly ‘the music’ played inside Tuhi’s head. Instinctively her eyes moistened and her heart grew heavy. In these 11 years a lot has changed…..except this. Till this day whenever Tuhi thinks of those ‘eyes the colour of deep forest pool’, her heart twinges and the sharp pain clouds her eyes. She reached out inside her bag and took out the flute. Whenever she goes for any concert the flute is always with her….it is her inspiration. Tuhi held the flute close to her heart and closed her eyes.

Ooty has changed so much over the years that Tuhi almost felt like she has come to the wrong place. The serene and picturesque hill station has become a cluttered town. With people jostling, cars honking and tourists milling around, the earlier sleepy little hill station looks forcefully busy and tired. The car was waiting for Tuhi, the driver, a short round man, greeted her with a big smile. Tuhi reached the hotel, freshened up and got ready for the breakfast meeting with the founder of Banshi. She checked her watch, it was 09.20 AM and her meeting was at 10:00 AM. She told the driver to wait back, as she wanted to walk down to the NGO office.

The road leading to the Botanical Garden has not changed much, except that there are too many shops now along the side of the road. As Tuhi’s feet trudged along the uphill road, her mind walked down the winding memory lane. In school days, during their Sunday trip to the market place Tuhi and her friends used to come here to buy sugar candies and mirchi pakodas (chily fries). A young boy saw Tuhi standing and came to her with packets of colorful sugar candies and imli golis hanging around his neck. She bought 3 packets of candies from him and slipped it in her bag. In her mind she silently gifted them to her best friends Alisha and Veena.

When Tuhi reached Banshi, she was taken aback by the simplicity of the office set-up. It was a modest 2 storied building, with the classrooms on the first floor, and the office and children’s’ residence on the ground floor. As soon as she entered, a big writing on the wall caught her attention:

No voice in this world can be louder than silence.
If anyone can understand your silence.
They can never misunderstand your words.

She walked towards the reception area, where a chubby kind-faced young girl looked at her from behind the desk and smiled.

“I’m here to meet Mr Surjo Sengupta. I have an appointment at 10:00 AM.” The girl quickly typed something on her keyboard, jumped down from her chair and went inside a big brown door. Tuhi stood there, and looked around. She saw a group of children sitting under the big banyan tree in the garden. They looked on attentively as a middle-aged woman wrote something on the black-board and then explained with gestures. A faint sound of piano floated in the air. Tuhi walked across the lobby to the big glass room, and saw a little girl bent over a huge piano. She opened the door and walked towards the girl. The little girl was staring hard at the big sheet of musical note and was struggling with the right chord. Tuhi gently bent over and touched the little girl’s shoulder affectionately. She then hummed the tune and played it on the piano. The little girl clapped out relieved and hugged Tuhi tightly. Tuhi was taken aback by this simple and unadulterated show of gratitude. The girl then jumped off the high stool, faced Tuhi and touched both her palm on her chin and gestured something. Tuhi was completely lost as she doesn’t understand sign language. Seeing her confusion the little girl gave her a big smile, ran to the white board next to the piano and scribbled ‘Thank you so much’. Tuhi was overwhelmed, she walked to the girl and hugged her tight, tears streaming down her cheek.

Just then there was a soft knock at the door. Tuhi looked up to see the kind faced young receptionist. She gestured Tuhi to come with her. Tuhi quickly wiped off her tears and took a deep breath to compose herself. She waved at the little girl and left the music room. While crossing the lobby the writing on the wall caught her attention again – “No voice in this world can be louder than silence.” Suddenly a memory from years back flashed across her mind.

“My name is Tuhi. It means the ‘chirping of birds’. What is your name?” she blurted in one breath and looked up at him.

He stood there in silence…...”

Tuhi quickly tore herself from that memory and walked towards the big brown door. She was really looking forward to meeting Mr. Sengupta. He has been doing some great work, and she would love to support him in whatever little way she could. Tuhi’s mind was soo occupied with the thoughts of how she could change the lives of these kids that she didn’t realize that soon her life is going to be changed forever.

Tuhi followed the young receptionist inside the room. The room was very different from the rest of the building. It had thick wooden walls, and what caught her attention immediately was the 2 walls that had book shelves right from the floor till the ceiling. Right next to the bookshelf was a huge oil painting of a little girl and a boy sitting with their back, on a bench under an old pine tree, watching the setting sun. Tuhi stopped for a second in front of the painting, taking in the warm hues of the canvas. She liked the way the girl rested her head on the boy’s shoulder. She heard a soft rustling behind her, and turned around, suddenly remembering why she had come in here. She was so absorbed by the surroundings in the room, that for a moment she felt like she belonged here.

As Tuhi turned around she saw a huge desk. Behind the desk a tall man was sitting on a chair, bending over some of the papers. He was wearing a blue tweed jacket over a white shirt. He had a strong jawline, and wore black-rimmed glasses. She couldn’t see more, as he was looking down. He signed the papers with a practiced flourish and gestured the young lady to leave. He then removed his glasses and stood facing Tuhi.

As Tuhi’s eyes met those ‘eyes the colour of deep forest pool’, she shuddered and her head reeled. She quickly held on to the chair in front of her and steadied herself. He slowly walked around the table, pulled the chair and made her sit. She looked up at him, and this time she knew that it was him. Her heart is beating so hard that she can feel the pain throbbing through her veins. He slowly walked towards the huge French window and pulled the curtain. As the room plunged into darkness, Tuhi’s mind grew number. ‘He’ was always a puzzle for her….but what is happening now is surreal.

He flicked a switch and a big projector screen lighted up right in front of Tuhi. He walked up to the desk and sat on the corner of the desk…just inches away from her As the familiar sound of the flute started playing…..Tuhi looked up and saw these words flashed across the screen:

“Hi Tuhi, my name is Surjo. It means ‘mighty as the sun’.

I cannot speak. I was born this way, and had made my peace with my silent life…until I met YOU. The first day I saw you near the old tower-house I found what I had been looking for all my life. I found my muse, who added soul to my music. I wanted to hold your hand and bring you to my world and tell you how much I had longed for you. But how could I have told you Tuhi, as in my world there is no voice, no words, no song.

My parents died when I was very young. Mrs James, your history teacher at St. Mary’s was my godmother. She had no children so she took care of me after my parents’ death. I used to stay with her mother at her village house. One year, when I was 14, Aunty James could not visit her village, as she had a surgery, and so I along with Grandma James came to visit her at her quarters in Ooty. It was during this visit that I met you.

I still remember the last day, before leaving for village. I knew I had to meet you once as I knew deep down that you understood my silence. You could read my eyes, and no words could ever express what my music had expressed to you. Do you remember the song I played for you that day? You had tears in your eyes. And when I held your hands you shivered. It was perfect….until you spoke. You asked me my name and my dream burst. I realized, we need words between us…as you couldn’t understand my silence. The very moment that you gave me the meaning of my life…you took away from me the reason to live. I knew I couldn’t live without you, and neither could I be with you.

I knew I would never see you again. But I could not go empty handed. I wanted something of yours that I can keep as my own. So I took your bracelet. I know you were hurt Tuhi…but I didn’t want to hurt you. I had to have something that belonged to you…..if not your heart.

I never played the flute since that day. My music was for you…and it stayed with you.

I knew you had a lot of unanswered questions that you had carried along with you for so many years. I hope I could answer them today.

This school that you see here, is built so that no other ‘Tuhi’ ever goes without getting an answer to her questions. Yes Tuhi, when I met you, had I been able to write or express myself you need not have to carry on this burden within your heart for so long. But I didn’t know how to read or write, as no school entertained children like us. At ‘Banshi’, I give voice to the young people who do not have a voice of their own.

This is all I have to say. Your bracelet lies on the desk. You can take it, as now I have lived you for so many years that I do not need anything else to remind me of you. I’m YOU.”

With this, the projector screen went blank. Darkness filled the room. Surjo walked towards the window and pulled back the curtains. The warm glow of the morning sun streamed in through the huge glass window….softly hugging the two people who sat there in silence.




The END

Tuesday 24 September 2013

The Mystical Flutist-III


Chapter 3: The beckoning

It was while she was fighting with this confusing state of heart that the most unexpected thing happened. Tuhi was walking back from the choir practice with her friends. The November chill has started setting in and the valley snuggled cozily within the thick blanket of fog. The girls walked down the road, lined with eucalyptus trees, next to the staff quarters. Tuhi was taking in the heady smell of the eucalyptus, while humming a tune in her head. Suddenly she stopped at her track. Behind the old pine tree next to history teacher, Mrs James quarter, ‘those eyes the colour of deep forest pool’ appeared. Tuhi slowed down, so her friends could walk ahead. The shadowy figure emerged from behind the tree and stood, staring at Tuhi. He then gave her a faint smile and beckoned her. Tuhi’s heart flipped and her stomach did a somersault. She followed him down the narrow alley behind the staff quarters. He was walking ahead, and every 2 seconds turned his head to see if Tuhi is still following his trail. They crossed the playground, and headed straight towards the old tower house. Tuhi immediately remembered the first time she met ‘the boy’ here. What was his name? He never told it to Tuhi. It never seemed necessary….

Now he reached the old dwindling iron bench and stopped. He motioned Tuhi to sit and went and perched up on the other corner. He waited expectantly till Tuhi sat down. Tuhi felt weird that someone was asking her to sit at her own spot. She wanted to tell him that this is her ‘little world’ where she comes when she’s sad, happy or sad & happy. And it is he who without even knocking has stepped into her world. But she kept quiet. She somehow just couldn’t speak when those eyes are looking straight at her. She sat down, obediently. He then took out the flute from his pocket and started playing it. The music, ever so soothing and ever so painful engulfed her. To her it didn’t seem like music, it was more like his voice, talking to her. She closed her eyes….as tears streamed down her cheeks.  But they were happy tears, as Tuhi had never felt soo happy in her entire life.

Duur deshi shei rakhal chele
Amar bate boter chayai
Shara bela gelo khele…..

Gailo ki gaan shei ta jane
Suur baaje tar amar prane….
Bolo dekhi tomra ki tar
Kothar kono abhash pele….

(The shepherd boy from the far away land
Came to my garden and played under the shade of the tree

Only he knows what he was singing
But the tune lingers in my heart….
Can anyone tell me what is it, he was talking about …)

In front of them the sun was setting lazily behind the undulating Nilgiri range. The sun seemed to be in no hurry today. It spread its dusk glow like a warm hug on the two little kids sitting on the old dwindling iron bench, with their eyes closed, tears streaming down both their young pink cheeks.

The music stopped. Tuhi opened her eyes and looked at him. His head was tilted to a side, and the soft green eyes glistened warmly. He got off the bench and slowly walked to where Tuhi was sitting and stood facing her. He had not moved his gaze from her for a minute. There was a strange intensity in his eyes, which reminded Tuhi of the way she and her friends study the night before their exam. It’s almost like they drink in all the words in the book so they will never forget the black & white print. He was now standing facing her. Tuhi’s heart leapt to her mouth. She tried putting up a brave face and continued looking at him. But deep inside, her heart was twitching and twisting like poor Bambi caught in a vine. He held her hand. His eyes were like warm summer day, assuring and gentle. Tuhi was glad to see that the dark clouds of pain was nowhere to be seen. She drew a deep breath, and before she could understand anything she stood up hastily.

“My name is Tuhi. It means the ‘chirping of birds’. What is your name?”, she blurted in one breath and looked up at him.

He stood there in silence. But the gentleness of the summer day has been replaced by the stormy dark clouds. Tuhi was confused. What did she say to make him so upset? She looked at him with pleading eyes. But he looked like he was just being stricken across the face. He lifted Tuhi’s hand and before she could understand anything, he removed the silver bracelet with the dangling star from her wrist. Tuhi gasped. That was her most prized possession. It was a gift from her Didan (Grandmother) on her 10th birthday, and she never removes it. Didan had given it to her and told her that the little dangling star will look after little Tuhi and protect her always. She couldn’t believe that the boy had removed it from her hands. She became livid, angry tears rolled down her cheeks. She was just about to lunge at him to get back her silver bracelet. But he started retreating fast. Tuhi just couldn’t make sense of anything. Why did he get her here? If all he wanted was the silver bracelet, he could have taken it near the staff quarters. And why is he looking like he’s in soo much pain, after he took the bracelet.

“Why did you take my silver bracelet?” she shouted. But the boy now turned his back and started running, faltering over the playground as his vision was blurred too. Tuhi’s head reeled and she sat under the pine tree next to the iron bench. She dropped her face between her knees and cried.

Ami tare shudhay jabe ‘Ki tomare dibo ani’-
She sudhu koy ‘Ar kichhu noi, tomar golar malakhani’

(I asked him, “What is it that I can get for you”
He replied, “I want nothing but the necklace around your neck”)

The moon peeped from behind the clouds and seeing the little girl crying hid behind the clouds again. She knows that the first heart-break is the most difficult pain for a girl. The moon wished she could hold the little girl and cradle her gently till her tears dry. She asked her firefly friends to help her. The fireflies flew down to Tuhi and glowed gently around the little girl. If anyone could see the little girl crouching under the pine tree now, they would think that the fairy godmother had made a ‘circle of angels’ around her to keep her safe.

The next few days went like the worst nightmare for Tuhi. In her head she had gone through that evening some hundred times, but still nothing made sense. There were so many questions in her head. But where will she get the answer. She had crossed the staff quarter in the pretext of some work or other almost 10 times a day. She had even gone behind the pine tree pretending that she lost an earring. But he was nowhere to be seen. No one had seen him, and Tuhi will never see him again.

It was almost after a week that Tuhi walked past the playground and climbed towards the old tower house. Her heart twisted at the sight of the old dwindling iron bench. She slowly dragged herself towards it and slumped down at the same place she sat that evening. Her eyes stinged and big fat tears rolled down her cheek again. Tuhi wondered exactly how many gallons of tears can her body hold. She held her face in her hand and the only word she could utter was “why….why….why”. Just as she was wiping her eyes with the back of her palm, something familiar caught her eyes, below the pine tree. Tuhi got down and walked towards it. As she bent down and removed the dry pine leaves, her amber eyes widened.  

She picked up the flute and held it in her hands.

Di jodi toh ki dam debe jai bela shei bhabna bhebe
Phire eshe dekhi dhulai bashi ti tar geche phele

(If I give you my necklace how will you repay me?
He kept thinking about it the whole day
At daybreak when I came back

I found he has left his flute on my garden)


to be continued....