Dirgha Aayu

The mosquito in the corner is watching me. I know he is watching me. Unbidden to my eyes, to my knowledge. He is a patient one that one. Oh, he is patient. He waits for me to settle into my bed and slip into half a sleep. Yes, just that point — half a sleep. Then he attacks me. He sings in my right ear. Dude, what’s with that? Yes, always the right ear. Then I retrieve my right hand and bang it on the ear. In vain. A few more winks and I feel his brusque touch on my forehead. I retrieve my hand and bang the area. Again, too late, only in vain! Then there may be some love bites [wait, what is that word Rachel uses in Season 2? What’s that word? Anyone? Any F.R.I.E.N.D.S. fans in my head can enlighten me?] on my neck, chin … Grrr. I get up and load up my armament — Goodknight Liquid. I slip down into its sickly sweet smell. The night may be non-controversial post this. Sometimes, however, the sickly-sweet is not available and handy. Sickly-sweet. Grrr. Then I have to rely on my second-in-command — Mr. Fan. Well, Mr. Fan has his eccentricities, you know. He is as the Malayalam catch phrase describes it “either on the aashaan's chest or outside the kalari.” You have to be conversant in Malayalam to know this phrase. If you are not, you could have made out that this has something to do with the martial art of kalari. If you could not at least make that out, well, your general knowledge is not good which is another way of saying that you are a dork. If you do not know what a ‘dork’ is please refer to the great, big F.R.I.E.N.D.S. repository of slangs and similar knowledge systems. Now, coming back to the phrase — well, I would like to explain it. If you know the meaning, please gnash through the next sentence. The phrase refers to the kalari student who, in a fight, either lands on the aashaan’s (master’s) chest or outside the kalari (‘kalari’ here also implies the fight square drawn on the ground similar to a Karate fight square). So, coming back to the original object of eccentricity in reference of which this phrase was used — Mr. Fan is either too slow or too fast. So when the mosquito blips and rips my sleep graph, which rightfully but for him should keep sliding to a calm horizontal into the dawn, I get out of bed and position Mr. Fan from ‘4’ to ‘5.’ Now, as you have already been informed, ‘5’ is too fast and I tend to get cold in sometime. I, then, get up again and position him back to ‘4.’ And then, I do not know how exactly, I spend the rest of the night. The sleep graph is jagged and rough. But that is how it is with the mosquito. I think the mosquito and his brethren could be reincarnations of Zen fight masters. What say?! No wonder I came up with that kalari phrase out of the blue.  

Acts of Love

The day is weary
But the night is young
The starry night plays on my left foot
The violet anklet is snug where it is
I steal a glance at his almond eyes
Red-edged almond eyes
I know he had looked at me a moment before
We are careful not to coincide
My chest is aghast with a wild song
My fingers numb with desire
I want to touch him
My phantom has done some things
Confessed some things
My mortal shell remains frozen
Bitten by chips of reality
Tiny chips that together make a frenzied resonance
That make me calculate actions divided by outcome which could be multiplied by the unknown probability of rejection
Rejection, I know tastes like sawdust
The result is nil
I am still, still
I watch the thoughts die
I watch the moment pass
I witness my suffering end
I witness my small death
I wake up, make my bed
I make him breakfast
By the door, as I leave, he thanks me
Why, I ask
Not asking truly, but as a natural flow of conversation which leads to silence and full stop as I enter the lift shaft
Did you take everything, he asks
I assure him and gravitate down
But I return in moments
My handkerchief is missing
Somehow the handkerchief was important
I ring the bell, he looks for it
We both stand then in an awkward moment of embarrassment
I leave again, without a goodbye
Later, in tea-break,
As I walk towards the loo
I find my handkerchief in my jeans pocket
Where I always keep it - handy
Earlier that day,
The train journey away from his home was quiet
Quiet and sunny
The sunrays entered my left eye from the window as I stared out
Entered and stay put
I was still
I hadn't even thanked him for the violet anklet.

- Chandni Girija
19-11-2017