If there is anything more awkward than bunking college to watch a movie, only to find your Principal with your Parents, sitting next to you, its watching a movie with your best friend's wife, after his death. I walk along the corridor with Her, leaving just enough space for Him to join us, as we used to earlier. Panting, with popcorn elaborately arranged on His left hand, as His right hand would lunge for my left shoulder, chiding us for leaving Him. My shoulder feels the burden, of the lack of His hands. The seats bring more memories of Him, of Them. The entire gang sat between Them. The times, when I sat next to Him, when She would be watching the movie, when He would try to watch Her, and when I would move my head forwards and backwards, to block His view. I curse myself silently, why had I stolen those moments from them?
We arrive at our seats. I remember the popcorn and ask Her but She shakes Her head. She has already looked around. Wondering if someone would notice us. Perhaps I should have taken a rakhi to Her this raksha bandhan. That would perhaps make it easier for Her to be with me. But I am too stubborn. Being a Rakhi Brother would be responding to the gossip, and I want to deny and ignore their existence, and hope it would go away.
I sink further into my seat and try to watch the movie. And drift away. I am awakened by her at the interval. Well it isnt, its the end of the movie. I feel sheepish, as She smiles, until I adjust my eyes to the light, and realise She had been crying.
"Sorry, didnt realise it would be so sad" I apologise. But as we stand waiting for the crowd to move, She answers. "Its ok I enjoyed it."
Urgh, "Movies are for entertainment, the sad ones should be censored", I harshly reply.
She pauses, reflects and says "Perhaps we can appreciate the sadness in life, even if one feels sad, and accept that ultimately, it doesnt matter much, its just a trick of time and emotions. Its ok to feel sad, but its pointless to feel sad about being sad."
I want to say or rather scream "Bah" and couple of foul words, but mumble "Whatever" and move on, letting her walk ahead of me and making sure no one jostles her.
Its raining outside. And She has come prepared with an umbrella. And while an umbrella could accomodate the three of us, earlier, now, I pretend to enjoy the rain. A two wheeler goes past her, and splashes muddy water on her white sari. I am unable to resist "Its a message from Him. He doesnt want you to wear white. He hates white". And though it hurts me to hurt her, by bringing up what He would like, I console myself with the thought, She needs it to hear it, and He would want me to tell it.
She has to cross the road to walk towards the bus stop and She waits with me near the gate, for the traffic to slow down (it rarely halts). She has choosen the bus, probably because it would be awkward for her, to travel with me in an auto or taxi. I dont know what makes me crazier, his death, or the behaviour of his family towards her after his death, or her meek acceptance of everything.
She breaks my thoughts with "Perhaps its a message, that pain is a part of life, and even the skies have pain and they send this message through rain. And rain might be inconvenient, but necessary part of life". And waves a quick bye and leaves, before I could think of a repartee.
I stand still, drenched in the rain. Trying to understand the mumbo jumbo of accepting pain. The rains stop. A girl squeals about a rainbow. But I dont care for rainbows. Or for appreciating or accepting pain. Life to me isnt a movie. And if its like a movie or a serial, I hope they fire the scriptwriter soon, because its silly and the TRP cant be lower. As for the rain and the rainbow, I prefer the desert, I want to scream after her. But She has already left and a guy asks me, "The movie that bad?" Oh the rain had earlier conveniently hidden my tears, earlier. Inspite of myself, I smile, and say "I slept". And try to find the right metaphor for sleeping through a sad movie called life. And whats this nonsense about its ok to feel sad, but dont feel sad about being sad ?
Earlier in the Imagine Series Imagine - Him Her & Me
Other posts in the Imagine Series