Tag Archives: penmancy

The day I turned 45, it hit me that my middle-age was characterized by middle-class mediocrity. Was this going to be the blueprint of my boring life? Or, did I still have time to try out new things and make memories to reflect upon in my old age?

When I look at her, I see not the imperfections heaped on her by society or the blemishes that rabid gossip has left. I only see the beauty bestowed by God. That is my aphrodisiac. I tack that vision to the fabric of my love and stitch it up tightly in my heart.

I hardly slept, marinating as I was in the putrid odours of burnt sauce and meat.

‘The lass pined for her kin. The winds that blew, whispered messages from her ilk. By and by, she grew melancholy. Till one day...,’ Malcum paused and looked at the waters of the bay, ‘she found the skin Sean had hidden. That day, she transformed, dove into the bay and disappeared, never to be seen again.’

An unassuming, easy going lad, Sunny soon made friends, the dearest being Monty (or Mohinder) who lived a few Kothi’s down, in the lane. As different as chalk and cheese, the boys soon became bosom pals. While Sunny was shy and timid by nature, prim and proper in his British manner; Monty was mischievous, inquisitive and always keen to explore. A die hard Hardy Boys fan, Monty introduced Sunny to the world of mystery books and both boys spent many happy afternoons butting heads over mystery stories.

Your father rushes in with video recorder in hand, “Hey baby, hey sweetie...smile...smile for daddy. Yes, that’s right...oooh, yessss...like that.”

The quiet of the morning was broken by a ‘thud’ that echoed in the tranquil valley air like a gun shot. Then all was quiet again. It was 3 am. No one heard anything. No one stirred. No one rushed to investigate. Come morning, they discovered her. She lay in a crumpled heap, blood congealed around her mangled body. There were no suspects. She had been a woman madly in love, just a tad unhinged. Her possessiveness had bordered on psychotic control or so everyone had been told. So, suicide it was then. Not a homicide.

Would you believe it? Not a single relative shed a tear at the funeral including my wife and kids. I tell you, I had half a mind to cancel plans for ascendance and haunt the nightmares out of them. But, I took the high road and resisted the temptation. Finally, I was laid to rest. As the first shovel full of soil hit my casket, I panicked.

We went out often after that for meals and even movies. We discovered that we had much in common. We talked endlessly and shared stories of our childhood. I told him about my family, he told me about his. He was an army brat who had been raised all over India. His older brother was a software engineer in America and had recently married an American girl. The specifics of our friendship gradually changed as we discovered more about each other. Something grew between us but was yet unspoken. It was Rohit who confessed it first on one of our outings.

As I sat at the banquet following the wedding, realization dawned that this man that I now proudly called my friend, had changed my perception about the homosexuality. Via his own magnanimous heart he had helped me be comfortable around the very people whom I had kept a distance from. His ebullient personality had infected cheer and laughter into my drab world. And, I was just one person whose life he had touched. I wondered how many more lives his magnanimous heart had enriched and would continue to enrich.