A Rusty Memory 2022 June to 2023 April

 Chapter 1, Start of Summer (Part 01)

First day of School

As souls move together in time, in a small rusty van. They grow and connect, and time shows them many faces and many conditions. A small, rusty van where around twelve children could be cramped in the back and two in the front, excluding the driver. It holds: sliding doors that hung to its sides; a yellow stripe that went around it like a snake; comfortable seats covered with leather; a sweet driver uncle; and a lot of memories that we treasure, cherish, remember, hate, and neglect. I remember we had given our tenth board exams in mid-spring, and now we move onward with results in our hands and toppers in the skies. It was my first day in the 11th grade. The weather was just starting to warm up. As COVID had also cooled a bit, we didn't have to wear masks any longer.

Before even starting the day, before even reaching the school, before even all of it. Under the morning sunshine, I moved forward to the point from which I boarded the van, still in my winter uniform. I see two new faces in the van. I sat down, greeted the driver uncle, and the van moved with the gentle morning breeze, as gentle as an early-blooming flower waiting for the sun to reach its petals. We picked up all fourteen souls and reached school. As the doors slid open, we all took a departure from the van; all fourteen souls, including me, dissolved in the crowd of students waiting for the guard to let us enter the school infrastructure. Our van had always come to school a few minutes before the school opened, so we became used to waiting for five to ten minutes every morning before entering the school. Our summer hours were 7:30 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. 

Even before entering eleventh grade, we had chosen our streams, so on the first day of eleventh grade, we just had to confirm the sections. This grade, this class, this division, and this union of oddballs in this stream made up the different sections of the eleventh. They really are very different from everything we have experienced till now. New faces surround us, and in between them I also find some old friends and old classmates. I can feel the atmosphere; it's like flowers blooming. My ears listen to the profound humming of people asking each other's percentage at the 10th board. Soon enough, we saw our class teacher's face, his honored name, which he never told us was ‘Mr. Akhilesh Pandey’.

With no previous knowledge of him, I accepted him gracefully, just as I was accepting the weird oddballs that formed our class. Many first impressions were formed. But the funny thing was that I accepted him gracefully, just as I was accepting the weird oddballs that formed our class. Many first impressions were formed. But the funny thing was that the tenth-grade board topper of our school was also in our section; her name was Kavya Padhar. From the first impression, it didn't look like she could be the topper, but with time, things changed. Today was spent collecting school supplies, trying to connect with the teachers, and understanding our section, "A," of PCB. Till now I haven't bought books and opted for psychology as my optional subject. In total, I took Physics, Chemistry, Biology, English, Physical Education, and Psychology.

Soon the bells rang. The watch showed a time of 2:33 PM. The first day of school has ended. All fourteen souls met at the van; the insets were singing songs, and the van was boiling hot. Standing here, waiting for us, it had absorbed all the heat. The little, slow breezes did make the condition good, but relief from the smell of sweat and heat reached us when the van started moving. The cool wind would dissolve in the van from the open windows, and a sigh of relaxation would hum around. The leftovers of the paper fans, which were made in an attempt to feel better, were still roaming the floor.

When leaving the van, I would be third last. With the wind, I would move in exhaustion toward my house. There were two paths I could take to get back to my house. The first one would take me down a path where houses stood on both sides; small pots and plants would gaze at me from the boundaries; and little to no wind would pass from the narrow street. But the second path had houses on one side and big farmland on the other, and the street had a boundary of small trees and steel wires. I would see corn, onions, and whatnot growing in the fields. Winds would move freely, crickets would sing songs, and suddenly the weather would become balmy. The thing that relaxed me was talking to the plants and dogs that roamed the streets while all of the greens and blues entered my eyes.

Chapter 1, Start of Summer (Part 02)

A Saddened Journey 

12/June/2022 

 The packing is complete, and we are off to catch the bus. With every gust of wind that touches us, we are reminded of the purpose of our journey; to see Tai Ji, who is in the last stage of stomach cancer, chances are low....but we are trying everything. The bus is mostly empty, but as the time of departure approaches, it starts to get crowded. To be honest, night travel by bus is quite different, and it makes me long to travel with my friends like this. The slow humming of the crowd and the sounds of the bus fill the environment with dark blue ambient lighting. Mother by my side, a book in my hands, and lofi songs in my ears. The bus gradually makes its way out of the city, then rushes to its destination. I won't disagree that it's a bumpy ride, but it's a peacefully gloomy ride to Deharadun. During half-sleep, I create plans for the future. Some will get fulfilled, and some will wonder at the dreams of a divine angel. It's midnight. 

The bus halts outside a restaurant. We step out to stretch our legs, and I see a stone path leading to a hanging sofa swing, engulfed with trees and plants. I take a seat on the swing, and the song "O Ri Chiraiyya" fills the air. The moon's glow is showered down on the trees and filtered down to the ground. Stars also add up to the shine. The hanging sofa swings back and forth with me on it, feeling the sweet solitude. Once we reached Dehradun, my father came to pick us up. Somehow we reached the room, and ironically, as expected, as soon as I entered the room, I threw my luggage over to the side and just jumped on the bed to have a good sleep. When I woke up, I found out it was twelve o'clock, and I had slept like a panda.

14/June/2022 

After a day or two, we went to Rishikesh. Tai Ji's treatment is being continued at AIMS, Rishikesh. The room has been rented nearby. With Father, we entered the room. I would doge describing the environment, I would doge telling, that Tai Ji's body, is now just a skeleton with a layer of meat, the stomach has become like a six-seven months pregnant lady due to bloating of the stomach, and a weak body resembling a twig. Adenocarcinoma of the stomach, stomach cancer I would also doge explaining how saddened everyone's face had become, their mind; in stress and tension. Just because someone is on the verge of dying doesn't mean that we leave them, even if they are struggling with immense pain and want to get free from this world and pain. We keep trying; we want them to live, but the consequences and the conditions do not seem to get any better. I wonder if the feeling of helplessness we get when we can't help with the pain of others is more prominent than feeling one's own pain.

It rained for two to three days, and the weather was cozy, perfect for a cup of ginger tea. My blanket cuddled me as the icy, wet winds dissolved in our room. It was cozy, as the lo-fi songs and falling rain melted our hearts.

18/June/2022

We went to Rishikesh, with Shabad filling the whole car with divine voices. Every shabad melts our hearts and softly pets our hearts with sounds; the warm touch reminds us of the time we reached, and we see Tai Ji crying as Tau Ji supports her. I wonder what would be happening inside one mind in this condition, mental breakdown? Depression? Hopelessness? And how many other feelings?

Raining down on the bereaved journey

First

I hear the rumbling of 

the thunder, their

shrieks of pain...

Then 

Slowly, it starts to 

shower down 

it's big tears...

Shivering 

cold gusts of 

wind, humbly

numbing our senses...

Trees

rain and wind

resonate, together

in synchrony...

Making 

me stand open

as every drop, slides

off my skin, like blood...

It

lasts, it's time

dissolving sorrow

to every corner...

A.V

The whole family was there. We spent a night there, and at night, my elder cousin, a musician, and the youngest child of Tai Ji were there. At night, as we two sat down on the roof under the open, dark sky, time slipped past our minds. We two shared our tales: Tai Ji’s condition, what can be done, what can't be done, what has been done, all of it. Besides the house was a small sort of jungle, so insects' songs and the moons glow, they were both dissolved with our talks. I don't talk very much, but what I can at least do is listen, listen and let them share some weight they carry over their shoulders. 

Theirs is not a lot I would like to write about this trip, all the rest of the memories shall live in time forever now. But the last thing I would like to share is that she is getting a bit better, or maybe it's just the pain that's being suppressed. 

When coming back to Dehradun, in the car father and I sang songs, as the yellow dim street light dissolved in the darkness of our car which moved at a speed of 80 Km per hour. The song “Tujhse Naraz Nahi Zindagi” by Lata Mangeshkar, filled the whole car, along with our voices. I guess a line had reminded mother of mama ji, I could see her tears from the back of the car, my small touch comforted her, and our voices were taken over by silence. Now all that roamed in the car was, “Tujhse naraz nahi zindagi hairaan hu mai, ooo, paraishaan hu mai…” with tears and a yellow tint entering the car. 

Chapter 1, Start of Summer (Part 03)

White Swan
While being there, in Dehradun, I got close to an elder sister, we would chat late till night, about topics close to our hearts. We would share our lives tales with each other. Her family, her problem, my life, and my problem. In the dim light, I would chat late till the night itself felt sleepy, and then when ending the chats and saying our ‘good nights’ and ‘take cares’, we would just tease each other about waking up late till night. I always found it funny, how we two always found time to talk at night, when almost the house was asleep. Sometimes we would call, and her sweet voice would filter through the earphones to my mind. I would sometimes find her outside in the garden at night, at the terrace, or in bed. She would tell me stories, and I would ask questions about life to each other. What better way to define a person than a poem? 

Enchanted Forest
A Forest, looks normal from afar
But, when you're close
She bewitches you, with
Her majestic colours,
Her beautiful hair like vines
Her calm yet playful eyes.

A Forest, has been through a lot
She has felt, earthquakes
She has seen dark and stormy nights
Yet she stands firm to the ground,
As if nothing happened, but when observed
You can also see thorns and cuts.

A Forest, adored by everyone
Looks enchanted from the outside and
Inside, even she doesn't know
She gives care to little soules
She teaches us lessons
She helps her family.

Yogita
A.V

Though, we only spent time together at functions or family meetings. I guess our need for a listener was the thing that got us close. The things that happened on 13 February 2022 and 26 February 2022. I am the type of person who likes slowness, who likes little things in life, the greens and blues, and all of it.