Selective Memories: The Road of Dreams (part 1)

The kettle whistled hard, its lid already dancing in a threat to set everything aflame or at the very worst, drenched and scalded till a pale hand reaches out and turns off the gas. The kettle composed itself and returned to its former docile self and allowed the hand to pour the water into a cup which already had the dregs of tea from its overuse.

There are some things that he’d have liked never to see again, but every time he closed his eyes, it kept staring back at him. There is that blast like that of a musket tearing the darkness, a woman against the sunlight where the colors dancing in her hair sparkled far more vividly than the spectrum in the rays of the light itself. Her eyes were on a vase which held a bouquet of violets, and her pale squared fingertips were going through a sheaf of letters. The last thing he saw was the vase as her hand nudged it and it tumbled over the edge of the table top, and he could see every turn it took in the air till it smacked the floor hard and broke into a burst sending sharp bits flying everywhere.

Andy hugged his knees harder, staring out of the window into the distance and he kept reminding himself that “it was just a dream and nothing more”, even though there wasn’t much sense to see in it, he remembered it as if it was already a part of his life.

Looking at the clock, he learnt that it was about 5 in the morn and he’d slept about for only a few hours. He pulled down the curtains and reclined back, with his fingers knotting through his hair and he closed his eyes till his thoughts eventually picked up and carried him back into the dark emptiness of his mind.
“WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP, YOU GIT!!!” a loud voice ranted from somewhere nudging him for sometime now.

He opened his eyes for a moment and saw a black and red botchy face with metal glinting on it, strangely the sight vaguely reminded him of an old friend, but his focus was lost before the recognition. Lethargy prevailed! He yawned and turned to the other side and mumbled, “just another 5 minutes…”

“ANDY! ITS ALREADY QUARTER PAST 8!!!”

And in that very instant, the sheets went flying as the youth sprang out of the bed and rushed towards the shower one hand tearing at his night clothes and the other reaching for his tooth brush. Before he realized, he was already drenched and soaked through his clothes as he looked haplessly with the brush sticking out at one side of his face. His mate had left the shower running and in his haste he’d slipped right into it.

He looked up to the mirror and took a long glance at himself. Staring right back at him was a man, whose hair was longer, a flat temple falling short to eyes red and doused heavy with sleep and a five o clock shadow that must have lasted for ages. He took whatever that came into his hand, wore them without a thought and walked outside. There was already a migraine threatening to creep up on him and he muttered “just another long long day”.

After sleep walking for the next two hours, where time doubled its pace as the world remained beyond his comprehension as voices turned to exaggerated phonetics worthy of chipmunks, he now found himself on a beach with a few friends from school and caught a half burnt cigarette between his lips. He took out the packet from his pocket and noted that he was already short of a few. Strange -

The sickly sweet smell of the sea stung his nose along with the stench of the fish boats and the gutted remains of their surplus from one side of the beach, he caught his brows twitching. Next to them were vendors trying to sell their colorful wares of sweetmeats and licking ice, while constantly harassed by the flies which probably dissuaded most of their potential customers as he noted in the reactions of his friends.

On the other side he noted a stray line of couples in an attempt to catch a moment with each other against the boundary wall. He noticed that they were almost on the verge of inventing a new Olympic sport which strangely involved their tongues and their hips, and out of the corner of the eye he noted one of his batch mates recording them with a small handi-cam. On a second glance, he noticed that there was a curious kid, no more than 13 years of age, with his torso hanging over the wall trying to catch a glimpse at the scene of obscenity below. It was nauseating and he almost retched. His batch mate was more engrossed in trying to capture the entire spectacle in a still, a grin frozen on his face already picturing the finished image in his mind and how many tags he’d make off the social networks on the internet.

He took off his shoes and knotted the strings together and he slung it around the neck and folded the ends of his trousers till his knees. Within the first few steps, it was as if the warm sand underneath his feet had already clambered on and claimed him. His feet had almost disappeared into it and the moist grains dotted all over his ankles till his knees glinting like mirrors in the light. He walked till the end of the beach, until he reached a board that said forbidden zone. He took a look around and noticed that most of the populous was on the other end of the beach, only a small fence and the board was keeping him from the unexplored terrain, and a few shadows hovering in the distance against the horizon.

As he tried to sneak his way over the fence, a loud noise came from the west and he noted a tall life guard waving his fist and smacking his hand yelling something. He took no further notice, turned and made a run for it.

By this time, he’d noted that across the waters, there were a few islands stretched in the distance shadowed by an imposing figure of a monastery whose golden dome seemed as if kissed by the very sun itself. His eyes attached to the monastery, he made his way towards the group.

“What a dump!” exclaimed Andy, as he closed in on his friends; Manish looked at him with a quizzical stare and Andy smiled coy. “Dirty clumped sand, no sea shells in sight, murky waters that brings back the pollutants of civilization (points to a polythene bag wading in the waters), not to mention the stench.

“Shall we make it to the monastery?”

“We’d have to take the ferry. It’s about 35 bucks…”
Fishing around in his pockets, he caught hold of a few notes and counted it to be around double the amount necessary for the fare.

“See who all wants to come and let’s go for it…”

He turned and walked towards a cigarette shop. He took out a note and handed it to the burly dark man and asked for “gold flakes” as the man smiled back at him showing his stained teeth. Taking the change and muttering a thanks, he returned to his friends who were now in a small group buying the tickets. He grabbed one from Manish and walked with him to the ferry.
While climbing on the rickety iron plank, it was as if the sand was almost pulling him back to the shore warning him of the cruelty of the sea. In defiance, he made his way to the boat bobbing with glee in the water trying to set itself free from the anchor.

The boat was already half full, and he noted that there were a few red plastic tires hung on the grating, obviously not enough for all them if the boat had to drown. There were already too many people for all of them, counting the group of college students at the back where a huge man-woman was trying to top the banter in defense of her shy friend next to her against the two loud men. There were two couples next to them who were discussing their past travels, a youth and two women across where the youth was actively interested in the one next to him where the other was trying to put herself back in the conversation. The girl caught him looking at her and she stared back, where Andy went red and quickly looked to the other side.

Suddenly, there was a roar amongst the men in uniform as they clamored on aboard and the boat jerked to a start. And almost every one hurrahed in delight, and he heard a few of his mates clap each other on the back. As the boat started making its way towards the destination, Andy stared out in the waters. It was murky and there was a foul smell that lingered about it, and as the boat cut through it, he could see the snake like ripples chasing it till it disappeared in the waters.

As he blinked, the sea disappeared in a haze of smoke. And suddenly he saw that sepia sunlight caressing her hair again. Only this time she wasn’t distracted by the vase or the letters, she was looking at him and smiling. He smiled back, till he realized the monastery was dead ahead, the waters were clear and there was a man walking on it (obviously on a platform) cleaning with a long handled net. He looked towards his hand and saw the ring and thought again of the promised day.

That night, he was with his friends and it was the same setting as last night replaying itself. It was the same seedy bar they’d crawled out, another half full pitcher of beer, his friend Bones (with the comical grin, the broken nose and the eye brow piercing), laughing to a girl from somewhere who must have made another sadistic remark zinging him (something he’d been ignoring for past few weeks), and Dushu looking at him in a mock disapproval marking her victory in the banter.

“Oy, where you lost?” was the last thing he heard before he poured himself another drink.