Saturday, 10 May 2014

Toothbrush



Toothbrush
 ‘Sssssssshhhhhhh…..’ voiced the cooker’s whistle from somewhere inside the nearby kitchen.

I clumsily opened my eyes. Took a glance at the Alarm clock placed on the right side of my bed. Oh! I remembered the Alarm clock is dead years back. Once it lost its batteries and I never went to buy new batteries for it as in our city everything is sooo… far and ever since, I depend on the cooker’s whistle to wake up. 

‘Awgggg..! Again it’s morning’ I felt and I woke up angrily as though I was doing the world a favour. As I stepped out from my bed, As usual I started releasing nitrogen from my inbuilt cylinder and with it I adjusted my lungi which was flashing  my ‘Uttam’ crafted  underwear; worn inside it. Softly scratching my right underarm with my other hand I reached near the wash basin.

I have always told my kids to flush after using toilet but still I don’t know why the toilet standing near the wash basin was always stinging. But frankly speaking, now I am used to the smell  and so I changed my focus to the toothbrush stand …the red colored Toothbrush stand which my wife ‘Gita’ had brought with her as a marriage gift. That stand had lost its color, it’s shine, it’s attractiveness but still it hadn’t lost its purpose. After all, it still sheltered our toothbrushes!

My eyes further fell on the toothbrushes, I could see only three of them …Oh! At closer inspection I knew that all three of them were standing by taking the support of the ‘Red Classic’ toothbrush.  ‘Red and Green classic’ toothbrushes …My wife bought this classic toothbrush just because it came with the offer ‘Buy 1 get 1 free’. She selected Red and having no other option to go for, I selected the green one.

Whenever I see my toothbrush, my blood starts boiling. It reminds me that there is no escape from the reality.  Alas! Somewhere deep inside me I always feel trapped. A Monotonous morning, a monotonous train journey, a monotonous job, a monotonous wife, a monotonous life and a monotonous ME! A toothbrush just shows me the meaninglessness of the things, I was into.

Pampering my monkey like mind which was busy jumping from one thought to another in a single nanosecond. I ended the melodrama by visualizing the grumpy face of my boss (Visualization works, very true!!)  I then, started brushing my teeth after applying a small dab of ‘Coalgate’ on it. While brushing my teeth’s, I started scheduling the work targets that I had to reach for that particular day after all , my work is like a running race wherein I hear the ‘ Get, Set, Go!’ by the cooker’s whistle at 6 in the morning …and the finish line…Oops! That is something which I am deprived of since past infinite years… 

A red dotted polka saree was lying on the bed with a matching blouse half concealed in it. Aaah! She loves the color ‘Red’, and most of the time she wears a red saree while going to the ‘Sundari Beauty Parlour’ wherein she was working. I and ‘Gita’ were physically so near but emotionally, we were so bald. It’s just that when you become wrapped up in your children and work and life in general, you lose some of the intimacy of being a couple. I was just into nodding terms with the women I was sleeping together each night! I told you, in our city everything is sooo far!

Hanging a cream towel-turned-brown on around my neck, I started my walk towards the bathroom. My eyes were scanning the towel. 

If you don’t clean the towel …it gets dirty, than dirtier and then dirtiest…

‘Dhinga! Why are you sitting here?’ I exclaimed as soon as I watched her sitting in one of the corner near the washing area with a toothbrush placed in one hand and notebook lying open on her lap.

Dhinga stood up from her place went to the basin and splitting the toothpaste she started with a long pitch ‘Daddyyy! You never remember anything…Today is my social studies exammm!’ And I could see the sincerity in her eyes.

As she spoke, my eyes glued to her toothbrush; a toothbrush with a ‘Barbie’ face at the end. Ya! I gifted her that ‘Pink Barbie’ toothbrush on her last birthday. Her toothbrush was colorful, bright, attractive and atleast it wasn’t a brush from those ‘Buy 1 get 1 free’ schemes! 

‘Beta, I do remember today is your exam!’ The words popped out of my month when there was no better dialogue to come up with.

‘Ok…then tell me in which standard I am? Answer..Answer...?!’ Dhinga spoke placing her toothbrush into the stand after washing it neatly and proving to me all over again that ‘she loved her toothbrush’ …She really loved her toothbrush!

 A priceless question was standing before me and I was sincerely lost.  After all, I was good at forgetting all the things I should remember and remembering all the things I should forget.

‘5th std.’ I suddenly spoke with a flat face.

‘Offoo…! Its 6th standard, Daddd….!’ She spoke with the ascent of a 90’s heroine.

‘Ok..6th std. , Won’t forget it now…Promise!’ I said and I realized those times when I used to promise ‘Dhinga’s’ mom …Promise to meet you on Sunday, Promise to bring a rose, Promise to watch ‘Sholey’ with you, Promise to marry you, …Promise to love you…It seemed as if, the day I opened the door for marriage to come in, all the promises flew away from the nearby window …

I behaved as a kid lost in a jungle…the only difference is : here the jungle was of ‘Thoughts’ ..’n’ number of thoughts. 

‘Battle of Plassey was fought in the year: 1757’
‘Battle of Plassey was fought in the year: 1757‘

As I moved to the bathroom I heard her repeating the lines over and over again until the sound unhinged from its meaning.
                                                                          *


Hanging a black Tiffin bag on my right arm and tagging my office bag at my back, I was moving when I saw Gita from the half opened door. Her long hair was caught in a ponytail that swung against her brown night gown. She was holding a tiny white colored toothbrush with toothpaste applied on it. 

‘Chotuu…Beta get up! Chalo, or else you will get late for the school.’

‘Mera beta, Brushii karegana…! Huh!’

‘Mom, aaj chotu ke liye Halwa banayegi…lekin halwa sirf usse milega …jo brush karega!’

…As I heard Gita say all these to Chotu , I felt an icy chill around my heart. Witnessing the love which had evaporated after my marriage, unwillingly but I felt jealous of my own son who was getting shelter under the tender care of my wife.
‘Arre, You didn’t leave still?! Gooo…or else you will miss the train!’ Gita instructed with the sense of urgency as her eyes fell on me.

 I nodded. After all the good bye hugs and ‘I love you’ s had been buried. Fermented. Nothing of it remained.

…Gita, is always so busy bargaining with the Sabjiwalas for price that she doesn’t even have the time to bargain a bit with her tight compartment schedules to steal a pinch of ‘Me Moments’ .She had become like a part of the furniture,useful to have around but no one really looks at it or appreciates how much they’d miss it if it left.

                                                                   *

‘Kripya dhyaan de…’ This was something which was first registered by my ears while I was hanging on the threshold of the train compartment.

A couple, I suppose newly married, was sitting on one of benches with their luggage kept besides them, ‘Amul Parlour’ was busy in the morning serving people with ‘Cold coco’ and ‘Amul Kool’ , a old rugged man with two eyes , two hands , one leg and with NO hopes was sitting near one of the dustbins placed at the corner , a ‘Kinley’ empty bottle without it’s cap was lying on the platform like an orphan child, ’Chai garam , Chai garam!’ – was tuned by a man who looked unbathed, wearing a shabby yellow stained white colored shirt matched with coffee colored pants having his zip a bit open, near one of the benches a women was sleeping with her child, she was dressed in a dull blue saree, a blue colored partially unbuttoned blouse displaying something more than just her dusky cleavage, a man with a red tilak on his forehead was sitting on the floor in the ‘Potty Position’ while  sipping hot tea from a transparent small cup, some people were just a part of the unnamed directionless crowd and it seemed to me as if they have taken part in a ‘fast walking’ race… Alas! All these were not unfamiliar to me. After all, from past 10 years I am accompanying this railway station.

‘Ayy, Kya bolti tu!!?’ my ears noticed this voice when I was lost in the arena of unnecessary thoughts.

As I turned back, my expression tightened for an instant and I didn’t answer. There I could see Raghu, Oops! Rocky (he changed his nomenclature at the age of 21, when he felt that ‘Raghu’ is an outdated name.)

He was holding his toothbrush in his hand and was about to start brushing in order to utilize the time of travelling. I told you; in our city everything is sooo far that people keep running and feel short to spend time for them. My eyes examined his toothbrush …Imperial blue in color, bright, unused (New, I mean!), having a touch of the advanced toothbrush unlike our classic brushes.

He had placed white unbranded earphones into his ears and was always in the habit of either hammering others head or humming a cacophony from his month.  He had a cell phone of the ‘Star’ brand (Brandless, I mean!) The soul problems of his life while being a male receptionist at a reputed gym were: Network error, loading, battery low. After all, his phone could occupy 4 SIM cards, one SIM card could handle 4 girlfriends , summing up it ended to around 16 girls per cell phone…( Let me not mention the number of cell phones he had, or else you will stop trusting a male receptionist!)

‘Aaa..meri chammak chaloo..! Udas hai?!’ he said as he pushed me with his right hand, after brushing.

‘Ohh..!’ I exclaimed when I felt so near to death at his slight push.

‘Do you aim to kill me, huh?! Can’t you see that I am standing at the door? Why did you push me? Why?’ I was literally over reacting. The river of pain flowing within me at times took the form of such upsurge in my angry.

‘Kill you!? Meri jaan ! Koi proof hai tere zinda hone ka?!!’ kabristan ke murde bhi tujse zyada khush hote hai!’ he said with the friendly flair, he always had towards me. Many a times he behaved as if he was my life coach but I was a student who was unwilling to attend the school.


There I was controlled, emotions were suppressed and behavior programmed, again lost into nothingness while fixing my eyes on the road moving before me.

                                                                *

‘You will be alright, don’t worry, life can’t play such heinous games with us!!’ cried Gita with overflowing feelings.

It was hard for me open my eyes but I took the effort to do so. I could see myself lying on a bed with off white bed sheet. A small white tap was attached on my right hand, at closure observation I knew that I was given blood through a blood bottle hanged through a big stand near my bed and a white band was tied on my forehead. The speed of the blood droplets were slower than the minute hand of the clock hanged upon the label ‘Silence please’ in that shabby hospital room. I could see several other patients lying on the beds placed left to me. The smell of spirit was flowing in the air. I could see few medicines, syrup bottles, fresh injections and some others things I couldn’t identified, being placed on a table near my bed. There were doctors and nurses moving here and there like bees on flowers. Somewhere from outside I could hear blurry voices roaring ‘Mere marad ko bachalo…something …something.’ It was slowly that I realized that I had met with an accident…’

ACCIDENT !! It was like looking for your pulse and finding that your heart had stopped beating.


Blunt images of ‘Crossing my office road, car, people …Unconscious!’ 

The screaming with no beginning and no ending continued like a long drone in my background. I have met with an accident…?! That hospital bed, those syringes …made me feel so caged. I was unable to speak, I started doubting if my body even excited as I turned totally ‘Feel-less’. Gita was crying heavily before me and I like a spectator to the fate couldn’t even move a finger… The world’s falling to a piece, that’s how it feels.

For the first time in my life I was doing ‘NOTHING’ …I was just sleeping on the bed. And it gave me some ‘me- time’. Observing my surroundings with keen eyes, I registered a window near my bed. A colorless open window which displayed the firmly standing Ashopalav tree with lush green leaves, It made me much occupied with the process of thoughts, not constructive thinking necessarily, & nothing that will produce brilliant results to my problematic life, but rather drift thinking, like dreaming (for the first time in my life!), the thoughts moving randomly from one place to another, picking something up, looking at it, putting it down again. The way people move through shops.

In a situation wherein I was neither able to move nor able to speak, I just kept glancing at that ashopalav tree, its leaves were moving in accordance with the direction of the smooth wide. ‘Ashopalav’ I said in my mind. It’s a tree, it can’t move from its place, its leaves are optionless and so they just obey the direction of the wind….But I , I am a human being.!! I can leave a place, I can move …to a better ‘Me’! I can move!!
I started feeling more as a human being on this day, than I ever felt. A simple encounter with a tree, yet I felt strangely agitated, exposed and vulnerable, and I saw my poor past rising up like the sea.

In everyone’s life there are moments in which the life is transformed utterly or careens off in a direction ‘Better’ but unthought-of. I realized it was my one such moment. With this a sudden rush of desire started flowing in my heart. Wordlessly, I was happy.

                                                               *

My eyes opened realizing a strong body ache, my whole body felt jammed; I wasn’t able to move my limbs. I realized a transparent cup like thing was placed on my nose, may be for breathing purpose. I moved my eyeballs side to side with an urge to find a familiar person. Soon I could find Gita sitting on a plastic white old chair on my right side. 

My heart suddenly plummeted to a cold place within his chest. I could see a bald man with rimless spectacles, white coat, hurried old face, wheatish skin texture and with extra large ears. I realized he was the doctor treating me. I couldn’t make out what he was doing with my right hand and my damaged body with yeah! His face looked as if he was caught having an extra marital affair.

Alas! My body pained like hell. I felt death very close to me and so, as soon as the doctor left the room I struggled to get into the sitting position. I removed the cup like thing placed on my mouth for breathing purpose.

My body felt so bulky, the pain was so grave, slow death was so cruel but still for the first time in my life (and probably last time), I didn’t give up. 

Gita’s face changed expressions at the pace of thoughts. Momentarily benumbed.

‘Maa my too…toothbrush?!’ my tongue was not supporting me but still I struggled to said so.

‘You please rest for now. Doctors’ haven’t allowed you to move. Please, rest.’ Gita placed a hand on her mouth to control the sobs.

I thought as everything inside of me collapsed into a singularity. ‘No more toothbrush?!’

I felt again that lump of fear that controlled my voice box, rendering me speechless.

‘I remember every morning I used to think about everyone’s toothbrush except mine. And today when I wish to peep at my brush …I don’t have it anymore! I posed for a moment getting a glimpse of my mediocre life and then I added ‘ Gita! I don’t want to die before living just once. I am just 37. I wish to live Gita. Please …help me. I wish to tell you ‘I love you’, I wish to show you that you are ‘Gita’s 18 chapter’s ‘ of my life, I wish to remember dhinga’s exam schedule once, I wish to spend time with my chotu as I doubt if he even knows that I am his papa!’ saying this I found hard to breath but the rush of  unexpressed feelings, of unsaid words, of unlived life was  so influential that I kept speaking ‘ I realized that if you don’t wash the towel it gets dirtier then why didn’t I ever realize to clear a bit of my life?! I should have removed few stains!?’ I asked more to myself than to her.

I felt paralyzed with grief almost, too full of sorrow even to weep.

My soul was still wasn’t at peace. I felt my breaths getting heavier and body weaker.
 But I started again with more emotions this time ‘ Gita, he was right I have no proof that I am alive. People have habit of forgetting but I ..Huh!! I forgot to live!’

 With this I start weeping like a child, hiccupping, with no shame, with no thoughts of hiding the fear of death from her. While she stood speechless, concealing those salty tears with her hand.

She sat near me and gave me a tender hug. It was a heavenly feeling. My sobs continued. I somewhere felt lucky to die in the arms of my wife. 


                                                       *
Gita didn’t even realized when her husband left those deep sobs and those intakes of oxygen. Later, A shade of reality splintered painfully in his brain and she felt the blood drain from his face and tears started swimming in her eyes.
                                                      *


As usual, Gita was working in the Beauty parlor. She was standing with a white thread in her hand and was plucking a lady’s overgrown, shapeless eyebrows. She was wearing a white plain saree instead of her favorite red but her life … Oh! It had more colors than the ones you find in a rainbow. The only ornament she was wearing was the faint smile on her recently bleached face. After all, her husband had taught her the essence of life and she made it a point – not to forget living before she dies.
                                                          *


The house was occupied with the giggling of kids , who were chit-chatting near the wash basin while one could witness the ‘Toothbrush’ stand having three toothbrushes and one …’Red rose’ , which was separated from its parent tree but was still spreading its fragrance and was a grave of the person who died giving a concrete message.



From Janvi’s honey bag

It is not the length of life, but the depth of life. Everyone dies but not everyone lives.


Mail me your comments, Suggestions, views,queries or anything you wish to at ‘janvisonaiya@gmail.com’ , you can even add me on facebook :http/facebook/janvisonaiya.

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