Baby, I Love You!!!

       Amidst the blaring cacaphony of loud jarring horns that came from the multitude of cars, he sat in his car. The battle scars of his life were now beginning to show on his face. A thick patch of strands of white hairs near his ears, a wrinkled skin. If not for his ID, no one would believe that he was just 42-years old. Everyday while going to or coming from office, amidst this same mob of cars with the same people, he wondered how his life flew by. It wasn't long ago when he was young, vibrant, fired up to do make a difference, change the world. But as the clock of his life ticked, he joined the rat race. The race that leads one to own things, and then ending up getting owned by the same things that they strived so hard for.
  
   It was pouring. The droplets of rain falling on his car distracted him as he was drowned in his thoughts. The thoughts of what could have been and what really was. He was not a failure in life. He had everything most people die dreaming to achieve. A wife that loved him, a job that he loved, a daughter who was his angel, a house big enough to accommodate their every need. But still, everyday when he wakes up, something still feels incomplete. He felt like a cloud. A cloud who couldn't fulfill his destiny. A cloud that vanished without raining. His train of thought was interrupted with the buzzing of his mobile in his pocket. His daughter was calling. 


   "Dad!!. Mom ain't moving", she said. Her voice not the usual angelic but filled with despair and desperation.
   "What happened, Rhea??", he asked frantically as the cacaphony of the cars behind him got low, eventually muting.
   The only voice he could hear now was the voice of his daughter. The voice that told of her mother falling from the stairs.
   As the cars ahead of him cleared, he quickly veered through traffic. Desperately trying to reach that U-turn, which only a few days back he had called Government's way of wasting taxpayer's money. Well, it wasn't a waste for him now, for that was the only way he could reach back to his wife who was slowing slipping into oblivion.
   His car teared the blanket of the fog as all he could see was his wife. Smiling, wearing a beautiful white dress, her eyes looking straight into his as if asking what happened to us? He had tears in his eyes. He knew he had something amazing and now he was going to lose it all. 
   It wasn't always like this. They first met at a college fest. And within months they became friends. The type of friends who just can't stop talking. They would often talk for hours at a stretch. She would tell him every little detail of her day and he would listen patiently  her sweet lovely voice. And somewhere in those long mushy talks, stupid little fights and silly cute pranks, they fell in love with each other. Their love for each other was so strong that they married each other against their parent's wishes. 
   It had been 18 years now. They still loved each other but somehow it ceased to be as obvious as it was before. They looked as if they had just surrendered themselves to routine. No more pillow talks, no more mushy musings, no more surprises. Who would have thought that the same couple who were often teased as "made for each other" would turn into "boring as hell" couple.
   As his car screeched to a halt in their drive away, he now knew what was missing in his life. he vowed to bring back the spark, the love that was evident before. As he rushed on the stairway, he saw her lying lifeless, the beige tiles that had turned red. A pallor on her face that indicated the stark reality of his being. He came close and shook her. But she didn't move a muscle. He gave up. The tears rolled down from his eyes, falling upon her body.


   "Honey!!!"


  He woke up. And for the first time in five years, his cell phone was to be the second thing  he would notice after waking up. He immediately cupped her face in his hands.


   "Baby, I love you", he whispered into her ears.
  
   "Honey, you okay??", she was startled yet happy.


   "Yeah, I am alive" said he as he kissed her.   

Déjà Vu - Part 2

   "Get up, Peter. It's 9'o clock." said her mother, in her usual soft and soothing voice.
   "Your father wants to talk to you".
   It was a dream and he was stunned. Tiny little drops of sweat were dancing around on his forehead. He was perplexed yet relaxed, for what seemed so real was infact a dream. His father had left for his work, so now he could have his breakfast on his bed in front of the television. An action movie and a toasted sandwich were more than enough for him to forget about his early morning nightmare. He had planned his first day of his Fall break with his friend, Jack and evening with his girlfriend, Kate. 
   After having breakfast and a quick shower, he was about to jump in his car when he noticed a small colony of honey-bees near the window sill. He was taken aback. It was the exact image he had seen in his dream. A honey-bee buzzing on the window glass trying to force a way in. At once, in order to affirm his doubts he stepped out of the car and checked the whole car for that patch of mud he had seen in the dream. It was nowhere to be seen. Just then, a phone call from his friend distracted him and he hurriedly drove away in his car.
   As he parked his car in the driveway of his friend, Jack's house, he rushed in while waving a hello to Jack's mother who was gardening. The two then planned to meet their friends at The Plaza. As Peter and Jack, proceeded towards Peter's car, the thought of his dream came back to haunt him. Near the rear-tyre, there was a patch of mud. An inverted cross, just like the one he had seen in his dream. The sign of Satan, he thought in his mind.
  " My mom must have accidentally did it. Let's go.", said Jack.
   As they drove away, Peter was still in his thoughts. He was perplexed yet curious. He was dreaded yet he had started looking for those other images. He couldn't find any.
   It was 2:30, afternoon, when his mother called, reminding him about the pest-control people he had to ferry home to exterminate those honey-bees. Now, driving to the Pest-Control agency, he was all alone with his thoughts. He wondered what all this could mean. A sign of something waiting to happen or just a silly co-incidence. In about an hour he was back home. Sitting in his room he was punching buttons on his joystick when he heard a car pulling up near his window. It was his father. 
   "Game Over. You are Dead". As the television screened displayed this message in a flashy red, he was once again shocked and stunned. His father, who had always been over-enthusiastic about wearing solids was dressed in a beige colored checkered waistcoat. Once again the horrors of the last night's nightmare came to haunt him. He sat perplexed on his bed until Kate, his girlfriend, called him.
    She had called him to re-plan their itinerary for the evening. They agreed to meet at the garden near the lake-side rather than at the cafe. At 6:00 PM in the evening, he was just about half a mile away from the garden when Kate called. She wanted Peter to come to the cafe instead. Just then, Peter realized that the garden was supposed to be full of orange-gold lillies. She had saved him. Now, he was a bit happy and relaxed. 
    As he was walking towards the cafe, he looked up at the clock tower to see the time. He was stunned. The clocked showed exact 6:30 PM. He tried to dismiss it as a mere coincidence and walked on. He was no longer thinking about his nightmare for now he was with the love of his life. They walked arms-in-arms, chatted lovingly and teased each other playfully. He no longer had his nightmare on his mind. 9:30 PM, he kissed Kate on her front porch and said good-bye to her and starting walking back home.
   He had just reached the clock tower when he saw a white truck speeding towards him and he frantically veered and saved himself from getting hurt. As he turned back, he saw something that shocked him. The truck had flower pots at the back. Orange-golden lillies going to the garden. He had his heart in his mouth. He clenched his fists and started telling himself that this all was just a co-incidence and nothing else.
   "watch out", someone said, from behind.




The next day, newspapers read:
A 19-year old crushed by a speeding car at the clock tower.




---------------------------END OF STORY--------------------------


   

Déjà Vu - Part 1

  He was cold now. He could see nothing but the darkness that had invaded his vision. Blood oozing out slowly from above his ears and coloring the white sandstone pavement red. He could hear voices inside his head. A sharp beep, almost irritating and the occasional murmurs of people who had gathered around him. As he lay near-lifeless on the pavement, he tried to recall his life. The life that hadn't been bad so far.He had visions, visions of the things and the people. Those things and the people who had a certain importance in his life. His white marble floored house, his red-bricked convent school, his mother making pancakes while wearing her favorite aprons, his father sitting in his customary grandeur in the wooden chair, his girlfriend smiling exactly the same smile which had floored him on that Annual Day, his sister who playing hide-and-seek with him. As he lay there on those red bricks of that white sandstone pavement, he waited to see that flash of light that people say you see just a moment before you die. But that light never came. He started having visions of the things that his sub-conscious mind had photographed today. 
   A honey-bee buzzing on the window glass, a patch of mud on his car, the beige checkered coat of his father, the clock on the tower showing 6:30 PM, the golden orange lillies that he saw in the garden near the lakeside.
   As he was slowly slipping into the darkness, he heard his name being called. Among the murmurs and the strange thumping noises that were overwhelming his senses, he tried to focus on that voice. It wasn't a strange one. The sheer softness and soothing nature of that voice suggested it came from someone close to him. He felt something on his hand, as if someone was shaking it, trying to revive him, trying to pull him back from the oblivion.