Where Did All The Fairies Go?

Tell me something my dear Blog.. is it ever possible to bookmark the particular second when one rolls into an oblivion called 'sleep' ? Or is it possible to remember the time when past memories metamorphosizes into demons which lurks at the back of our mind, forever threatening us to take over our lives? Or is it even possible to remember when one stops living and becomes a zombie? I guess you won't be able to. I don't blame you either. Today, as I sit down and place my fingers on the keyboard, a sudden sense of nausea overpowers me.

Once there was this young girl.. no, child.. a 10 year old child, who was very fond of watching gold fishes swim in an aquarium full of clear water. Her constant nagging got her an aquarium full of gold fishes but it also got her an 'Uncle', her neighbour, who was to teach her how to feed those fishes. The girl was so happy that she was prepared for her first 'class' much before her 'teacher' knocked on their door. The first sunday afternoon her mom was there with them. It was one of the best afternoons of her life. The next sunday, her mom was resting in her room on the 2nd floor and as usual the girl was squealing in delight at the little tricks her 'Uncle' was showing her as he deftly handled the fishes.

She clapped her hands when the gold-fishes raced each other to catch the worms, she laughed in glee when everytime she tapped on the aquarium's glass walls and saw the fishes darting away in panic and she also inwardly squirmed each time her 'Uncle' touched her unnecessarily. Her skin crawled whenever his fingers lingered on her body for seconds extra than needed and quickly left her side whenever he heard footsteps coming towards the room.

One afternoon, he asked her to come and stand beside him, on a stool. Her first reaction was to cringe away but then when he told her that he got a candy stick in his trouser's pocket she got tempted as anyone at her age will be and she climbed up that stool. But no matter how many times she asked him to give her that promised candy all she got as an answer was to 'take it out' herself from his pocket. Finally after many a requests, a 10 year old's curiosity got the better of her and she put in her tiny hands into his trouser's pockets. But she couldn't find her treasure.

"Get your hands deeper little one", she was instructed.
"Yes, a little more on the left side." Further instructions came.
"Do you find a hole in the fabric? Yes, you do? Get your fingers inside that hole angel, you'll find your candy there." She did as she was told.

But just for a second, 'cause whatever her little fingers touched was a sensation she can never rub off from her hands for the rest of her life, unless she chops off her fingers. She never really knew hatred, disgust, fear and sheer helplessness in her 10 years of life.. but all that changed in those split few seconds. She withdrew her tiny hand so fast as if she has touched molten fire eventhough her 'Uncle' tried to put it back to where it was. It was only after she screamed at the top of her lungs that he let go off her. She never ran up those stairs to the 2nd floor where her mom was, as fast as she did that afternoon.

She didn't know why, but she somehow realised that this was wrong. This was not the way her other relatives hugged her. This was not the way her other relatives kissed her. And this was certainly not the way her other relatives touched her. She understood the types of touches and the nature of touches she has to avoid for the rest of the life too early in her life. She was just 10 years old and had no idea why she felt they were wrong. Somehow, in that little mind of hers, dawned a realization which made her grow older than her age. A realization which she was forced to understand.

She was lucky, 'cause for some reason which she still doesn't know, her 'Uncle' stopped coming to their house... or may be he was 'stopped' from coming to their house. After all these years, she asked me a question. A question whose answer I'm still searching for.. an answer I'm sure a lot of us are still searching for...
"He has a daughter now, does he ever look at her and fear that someone might do the same thing to her as he did to me for so many sundays? I was just a child, all of 10 years of age..."

All childhood tales are not fairy tales. Atleast not this one.

Taken From A Video Cassette

Blog, wanted to share something with you.
I had always been confused, apprehensive and intrigued at the same time about the thin red line that separates the real world from the virtual world. Why is it that the people we chat with, people whom we've never seen in our lives and probably never will... become closer than our real life friends? Or why is it that at times we look forward to chat with a person sitting in some remote corner of Dallas or Brisbane and don't even feel remotely interested in meeting a cousin who's visiting the town? Or again, why is it that we can wake up or go to bed at weird times so that the time zones of different parts of the world match?

I was on a cleaning spree.. no, not my closet... but my PC. And I came across a long forgotten gibberish written once upon a time in solitude.
Producing the same, just the way it was written so long back.


TAKEN FROM A VIDEO CASSETTE


I've always wondered how it will be.. to be all alone in an alien city. With so many people around you, yet not a single known face. I am running a temperature. My eyes are red and so is the tip of my nose from a nagging cold. I had so many plans for this one week. I was supposed to visit my home town to attend a marriage and therefore had taken 10 days leave. Oh, how I had to slog for these 10 days. And now, I’m stuck all alone.. in this 2-bedroom flat, in this city of millions. On top of that, it had been a wretched, gloomy day with the sky wrapped comfortably in a blanket of black pregnant clouds. It's been raining from early morning and there's no hope that it gonna stop any time soon. I can actually hear the pitter-patter of the rain hitting the glass window pane. Can't go anywhere. Can't even talk to anyone.
I get up and pull out an old video cassette from one of a dusty corner rack of the shelf.

I rewind the entire cassette and switch on the PLAY button.

It begins on a night a few years back. The girl has just come back from work. She's enters the empty flat. She never gets a chance to ring the doorbell 'coz by now she knows that there is no one to open the door for her, there is no warm dinner waiting for her on the table. She knows and she doesn't expect anymore. She doesn't get to hear any noise apart from the tic-tic of the wall clock. And she doesn't even get a chance to open her mouth, except when she's eating. But today she has met a new friend. She switches on her computer. He was waiting for her too, at some other corner of the world. Today was the first time they chatted and it was like, they had known each other for a few lifetimes now.

Stop --> Fast Forward --> Play

Today she has come back quite early from work. She has bought a headphone ‘n’ microphone set and she just cannot wait to go real-time with her friend. To listen to his voice or just to listen to him talking. After a quick shower and a quick grab to eat she sits down to chat with him. He too was waiting with his headphone and mic. All these days they chatted. Tonight they had a conversation. Yes, it was different. Their mid-night rendezvous went into early morning. They said goodbye when it was day-break outside.

Stop --> Fast Forward --> Play

The day had been good. She had a successful presentation. Her boss was happy with her. Her boss's boss was happy. And hence she was happy too. But the day had been busy. So busy that she didn't have time to think about her new friend. The time difference of their parts and their schedules of the world made it difficult for them to chat in any time of the day apart from the night. She didn't even have the time to mail him. The moment she steps inside her flat the realization of how much she missed talking to him hits her hard. She doesn’t ever bother to shower or eat but switches on her computer. Damn ! No matter how much or for how long she tried, she just couldn’t access the darn net ! Next morning, she finds him in her mail inbox, “Where the hell were you yesterday? I was worried sick about you woman ! Get in touch ASAP.”
She feels good after a dull night.

Stop --> Fast Forward --> Play

As days became weeks and weeks became months, they started knowing each other better. Their friendship grew into a strange bond. He used to chat from his office (as much as he could) and she from her home after midnight. Dark circles be damned ! The nature of their conversation spanned politics to epics, from career to literature, from music to movies. At times, they were two of the most wisest people on Earth and at times they bitched like there was no ‘morrow ! For them those few hours in the virtual world was like an oasis in the middle of the real world. Each and every conversation was like a different realization.. a whisp of fresh air for both for them. Yes, they became close.

Stop --> Fast Forward --> Play

As they came closer, the guy shared a lot of his life with her. Told her things he never thought he will tell anyone. Expressed his views, his thoughts which he was sure the rest of the world will think to be crazy.. but somehow he was sure that, if anyone ever understood them, understood him… then it will her. Mostly it was a one-sided conversation. He typed, she read. He spoke, she listened. The girl came to know the guy inside out but did he ever know her in the way she knew him? Or is it that there was nothing worth that happened in her life which she cared to tell him? Or is it that the guy never tried to probe deeper into her past trying to catch those moments which passed in a twinkle of an eye? Or is it that the girl had decided to bury those untold tales in some deep corners of her heart?

Stop --> Fast Forward --> Play

She was back to her hometown, which was his too. Tonight as they sat facing the monitor at two different corners of the world, he had good news for her. He was coming back home for a week. She read the typed text on her monitor, re-read it. And re-read it again. She just couldn’t believe her eyes. After so many days and weeks and months of talk, they are actually going to meet each other !
A coffee shop. A corner table with two mugs of warm cappuccino on it. The guy in a denim and white shirt is listening to the girl in cream chiffon. For months after months the guy has poured his heart out to her and she has listened patiently with more interest than she ever listened to anything in her life. But strangely, today the picture has been reversed.
Today, it’s the girl who is talking and the guy, the patient listener.

Stop --> Fast Forward --> Play

They are back to their familiar environment, infront of their computer screens.
Today the girl complains that behind the veil of the virtual world, the guy can pour out so much but in the real world with its normal realizations, touch and smell, he had become speechless that day. She also said that if she did not meet him, she would never believe that someone’s eyes can say so many things which the tongue fails to convey.

Pause -->

Why? Why this enigma? Why this strange reaction? Then does it mean that their relationship is not a fact but fantasy? Not real but virtual?
Or is it that real physical distance of so many months bring them closer to each other which real geographical closeness of those few hours couldn’t?
Can they ever cross the thin red line that separates the real world from the virtual world?

Stop -->

Damnnn ! The cassette ended.
Time to get another one.