Unseen diaries- 26-11-2008
‘Last Christmas I gave you my heart... this year...’
The white buds in my ear, Mrs. Adeline walked me to my room. Which room? It is very important that I mention. I was staying at the Trident Hotel, Marine drive, 9th Floor 786 to be precise. I don’t like being so precise otherwise!
Mrs. Adeline said she would collect me in half an hour. Rizal was supposed to come at 10:15, we were going out for dinner, and pretty sure Adeline gave me 15 buffers... it must be 9:30 then. I tell you, I had never been happier. Never so much. Ever! For tonight, I Rahall Chopra was about to propose to the love of the second part of my life! My second marriage proposal! (Now who is the man, bitch)
And I made sure everything was perfect (Courtesy Adeline). On the bed was my brand new Armani suit, underwear on the top so I can find it easily (I had never liked the thought of Adeline choosing my inners... and now... not for long!), she would help me with the bow and in my shirt properly, Rizal’s Versace, our favourite brand, was gift wrapped on the side table... And there I was standing near the door... admiring the game of destiny.
I snapped myself out of it, found the bathroom door in the dark room and washed my face. ‘Rizal had never said no for anything!’ I splashed and splashed repeating this and ...then I did something I had not done for a long time. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror ‘naked’ running my hand over my entire body. I did that for some time. Then quickly put on my clothes to avoid embarrassing myself if Mrs. Adeline walked in (She had only seen me naked... never like this!) Then I sat on the bed, Rizal’s gift in my hand, smiling at wait.
The room was silent, like an empty theatre. I could hear the clock ticking. Or wait... was it my heart! I combed my hair again, which were harder than usual, and wiped my shoes with the bed sheet. I did a quick recheck of all the things I needed: The Tux- check: Credit cards-check: Car keys... where the duck were the car keys... oh with Mrs. Adeline- check. Done!
But where hell was Mrs. Adeline? The bitch was going to get some serious firing from me for this. (I wouldn’t do that for this was the lady... who had done everything for me, in the second part of my life) Still, she couldn’t be late now. Not tonight.
Wait a minute...What if this was another of mother’s schemes it struck me... I swear I wouldn’t take it this time. I almost dialled Mr. Enron’s number to book my tickets back, but then decided that I should not let anything bother me... at least for now.
But if Mum thought this would stop me from seeing Rizal, I was so going to prove her wrong. So I put my glasses on and walked outside the door. I knew the lift was to the left. There was a flower pot beside it, I remembered. I danced as I walked, to beats of my heart, which hummed its tune in a continuous din overpowering all other thoughts in my mind. Otherwise the hallway was very quiet. So much so that I could hear the sounds from the other rooms
My neighbour, a pretty French model, had her friends over who were singing an abusive song together ‘bhang... sutta’. Rizal once sang this song to me, I remembered. How sober the song sounded in his brit accent. Almost like a classic! And when I told him what it meant, how he had laughed, his hiccupping laughter! And then we had spent the entire evening on the promenade humming all such ridiculous songs, some I taught him, some abusive rap he sang. Ah...
I passed many such rooms. Sounds of television, arguments, love-making, guitars, and people, greeted me as I walked, like they were wishing me luck. I said my thank you‘s to them as I walked. And 23 steps later, my hand brushed against the plastic leaves of the flowerpot. The magic door had come that would take me to my beloved. I called for the chariot.
‘9th FLOOR’... Finally!
As I stepped in, a foul stench chocked my nose. I almost hit the corner in an effort to get out but the door shut. You can always count on electronics to make life miserable. They never helped me! It was a fart. Train... and lifts, two places where Indians can’t resist farting. Yuck, I spat.
Helpless, I found the ground level button, bottommost left. And I began to descend, trying to picture Rizal to divert my mind. I couldn’t.
I cursed the Adeline bitch. Where was she but?
I slid down. The stench persisted and I looked up at the damned exhaust and cursed again.
‘3rd FLOOR’
As soon as the lift opened, I fell outside sucking for air, holy air! Al Gore’s voice said to me ‘How long will you sustain’ and I immediately knew I had to stop using my Benz all the time and switch to a small car. I could buy one of those green cars. Rizal loves them.
Maybe I should take the stairs I thought. Oh! What the hell, I could be a philanthropist later. Right now what was important was that I was going to propose Rizal and I had to get to him as quickly as possible. Also I couldn’t take the smell anymore. What if it stuck to my clothes!
So I took out the mouth freshener from my pocket (Courtesy Adeline again!) and sprayed it in the lift. ‘That would do’ I smiled and I entered the lift again. It did do! Yes... ‘Screw you farter.’ I found the button again and the door shut.
I don’t know if it was the smell again or what, but I felt my heart sink as the lift began its second last descend. The last time I experienced similar unease was when Deepti took Sameer and Sareen away. ‘God protect Rizal’ ‘God protect Rizal’... Please...
Floors passed and the lift jerked once again, skid... and then stopped.
‘Ground Floor’
The sound of the door opening brought along other sounds. Sounds from the movies. ‘How long will you sustain’ Al looked down through the exhaust. I hung there... still.
And then the door shut. The rest of my body froze, except my hands which scrambled up some buttons and my coffin began to rise.
Was I dead?
But how could death be so painless and numb, I wondered almost ready to rejoice. And then Rizal appeared beside me. And everything came back to life again... came back to pain.
In his hand was a ring. My ring! I felt my pockets. The box had been there since morning. He was wearing his gift too! While the packet lay in the floor. We rose higher and higher. His face looked just as I imagined. High cheek bones, the pouted lips, his feminine brows... brit eyes dripping sweet water. I kissed his eyes, letting the water into my mouth; it seeped down cleansing my insides. I melted down on his feet.
I lay there relishing his taste, going through each moment that I had spent with him. The first flight, the promenade, the first hug, the stare, the first love, and the time he stood for me against the goons at Colaba, how he had cleant my wound... ‘Bhohenchoudh sottha... sottha nah milha...’
And the lift came to a halt. Was the journey over?
The door opened. I shield my eyes expecting bright light like I had seen years back in a movie... but it was dark up there too. I had to wait for my turn maybe, I thought.
And then... the door shut again.
The lift rook its last fall. Why would god send me down again? Had I been so bad that he didn’t even want to see me once? Or show up, at the least, blinded? My mother’s words stung my ears. Is it really a sin I asked Rizal. He looked calmly...
I fell further down. And then... the car that hit me 5 years back, hit me again. I was tossed on the floor. ‘It’s just the lift. You are not dead yet, but yes... falling towards it’
It was too late by the time I realized. ‘FIRST FLOOR’
And no sooner did the door open; I felt hot steel on my chest. I fell back again drilling myself to the back of the lift.
Then He pulled me out. The man with small hands and a big gun... and threw me on the floor. I felt Him pointing the gun at the lift and I cried ‘Not him... please. Kill ME. Kill ME.’
I clung to His feet not daring to look at the lift, dreading what I might see. And then He shot... a small round of bullets. The sound of steel against steel hit my ears and I put my head on His feet. My gaze fixed at the Otis board on the lift. He was gone.
Then I looked up... and through the darkness of my eyes, I saw a darker silhouette. He stood towering above me, confused about what He had just done. I knew Him. I had seen Him before. He was... He was... and I got up frisking Him from the bottom, for a sign, trying to see.
Then I felt His gun. It looked unfamiliar. And touched His neck, yes... the neck... and then the face...square... the high cheek bones, his parted lips, round... the scent of his perfume... I knew who He was.
But before I could see anymore, He held me in his arms, with a familiar force, tight yet comforting.
Then carried me, and then as if in sacrifice, he flung me into the cold air of the night. I flew.
Another brief moment of death, and then I crashed onto the bonnet of a car. The thud caused the windshield to shatter and shreds of glass flew everywhere. Penetrating once again, but this time without causing any harm, into my eyes, scratching the skin of my ribs, and hands, and feet... Leaving only His picture behind. Without his gun! Forever.
People closed in on me.
And then he came running to me from the crowd and held me in his arms... I could hear him shouting for help. His thick brit voice, I could distinguish in a million shouts...
Meanwhile, the gun shots continued.
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30-11-2008
Rizal reads to me from the papers what happened after that. How they were all killed. He even asked a clay artist to emboss Kasabh’s , the most famous terrorist of them all’s, photo so I can feel him. It’s not him.
People call them terrorists and curse them. I say, He, who killed people, caused pain is, but, HE, who flung me is not. He is terrorised himself, I saw in His eyes. Rizal disagrees and gets damn mad at me for thinking so. He goes for all the prayer marches, takes me along. I pray for them all. Because no matter what people say... only I know ... for I have heard about one, felt... seen the other. They are two different people. He is human, his other is not!
The eyes that can see the most are the eys that cannot see!
