THE CRAB CLAWS

Is it DEATH…?

It’s all dark, darker than the nights, creepy as the darkest nights of a horror movie… No beetles with their familiar chorus… No sky I see with the dots of lights… I don’t know where on Earth I am?

Am I DEAD?

A spark of short circuit ran my neurons to hit the nerves of my brain. I pinched myself…

“Oouch….!”

I could figure out the joy that reflexed with my soft scream….

“Yeah…! I’m alive…!!”

The next moment I could feel the wrinkles drawing tension on my forehead, all meeting with the same question that’s echoing in my brain as my scream echoed in the darkness of the no-where where I discovered me…

“Where am I?”

It was just like the brain storming creative desk, with the tension clayed faces of the young creative, all mum and pretending all busy with the subject finding a way of solution. I could feel the movement of my lips although I couldn’t see me smiling…All dark it is…

“Am I in the Black Hole?”

Some among my wrinkles liked the joke and relieved their hold over my forehead, some yet couldn’t let go the situation and remained in the job they were assigned. What I do, when I needed ideas to roll on the creative desk…

Think…!

That all of us do without a purpose and mostly without a result, in our terms which we refer to as Productive Outcome…than what I usually do?

“Got it…Yeah…! May that’s the way… E..U..R..E..KA…”

Felt like screaming aloud as Archimedes did on his invention. I closed my eyes, even though there was nothing to distract my concentration, all dark, both inside and outside my vision. A deep breathe in than breath out. And all my instincts became pro active as if I have ordered them all to act on after my deep exhale.

My senses could feel my breath whirling around, the reflections my geometric nerves calculated even quicker than any mathematics prodigy; I might be stuck in a deep dark well. I tried to recollect my memories, was there any such well on my routine path. The traces of memories were zooming in my dark moments, amazing experience, it was like a movie premiere and with the remote mind I’m switching between the scenes.

“Bye Dear…!”

“Try to come soon…”

My son screaming from his mother’s tight hug, trying to throw himself and jump to my lap…tears rolling his face…all he could pronounce is “Dita Othice…( Dad Office)”…My emotions wet my eye lashes, further moved my steps.

I see no well on my short cuts to office. Neither have I remembered seeing one on any other ways. I scrolled every bit of memory yet failed to recall any incident that could relate me being in this dark well.

“Did I face with an accident?”

My hands rolled down me, no wounds or pain I felt to console my query.

“Aah…!”

It’s been how long I’ve been standing in the dark, thinking of the pros and cons of being in such a weird unknown horizon. The pain felt in my lower back forced me search a place to lean on. My steps crawled slowly, yet steadily.

My steps fumbled in the darkness, but never stopped. All I need is a place, to rest my over weighted waist, burdened with another new worry.

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THUMP…!!!

I stumped over something and grounded with my face tasting the feast of sweat mixed damp soil. I was drenched in the rain of sweat with thunders growling deep inside.

“Aaah….!”

After a long time I screamed aloud in the dark tunnel, in midst of nowhere. The echoes made my heart beat faster with the fear of welcoming another unknown situation. My hands landed into something but couldn’t hold due to the size bigger than my hold. My palms drew the figure, my fingers painted the ups and downs and my mind counted the imaginations to a staircase leading to somewhere unknown again. I jumped on my feet with my quickest ever lift and lead myself towards the unknown staircase. There was no pain in realization. I made my steps follow the orders of optimism and started climbing the stoned ladder.

The hereditary instincts from my ancestors made me aware of checking the way I’m moving forward. Prevention is better than cure, my aware gorilla instinct warned, my back bent with my hands flying to feel the way where my steps will be secure to withhold any fore coming fall. Sweat tickled my sensitivity and my palms tried to sprinkle the seeds of tiredness rubbing the wrinkles from my forehead by the side of the same path.

“What is this feel? Why I’m not able to move my body? Why I’m feeling as if someone’s pulling me down to the well again….”

A cluster of queries romped into my mind all of a sudden when I felt my limbs were flying without being able to place my feet on the steps my hands have confirmed to exist.

I looked back, all dark, as it was. I stopped my breath to feel if I could figure out anybody else’s existence. My heart throbbing faster than before, couldn’t hear anything in the noise of my feared heart. I tried to pull my step towards its destination.

Succeeding after a series of force moved my steps with the quick judgments of my hands directing the invisible path. I again started moving, my mind said it is just my imagination or suspicion shaped in among the darkness of the unknown dark well.

It’s happening again, my steps were again pulled back with force bigger than the one before. I tried to hold the ladder, the pulling forces turned stronger to my hold and my palms screeched, the brakes of my nails slipping over the roughness of the rock ladder.

: Jab Life ho out of control… siti bazaake bol…All is Well…!

Out of no-where I saw my mobile blinking with its ring tone lighting my pocket. Its flashes hurt my vision. It was like lightening to my eyes after so long exposure to darkness. I closed my eyes, darkened the sight and tried to adjust the switches to accustom with the bright exposure.

I opened my eyes…the blinking light flashed on the faces that hold my steps... I tried to concentrate on the unknown structure… couldn’t be sure with the shadowy definitions collected by my eyes. Holding on the stairs, I stretched my hand inside my pocket when I felt the transient pull…and I was falling down as a toy being dropped by my son from our first floor balcony…I let go off my mobile to close my eyes, to prevent seeing the accidental fall…Suddenly I remembered, I can see better now, since the light is un-covered and I can see the object pulling me down the well again or you may say, who don’t wish me climb out of the dark well. I bent my head and directed my sight…

My mobile flew through air with its rhythmic blink, glowing its path of fall, followed by me. My sight followed the waves of light and astonished. How on earth I fell inside this well full of crabs…? It was crabs all over the floor; my eyes got directed towards the pulling force acting on my feet, it was the claws of the crabs…I tried to console my heart, lifted my hand, placed in on my chest, patted and pronounced…. “All is well, all is well…!”

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When I woke up, it was all lightened. I bent my head; my son is still deep in his sleep, his hand wrapped around his mother’s waist and his legs resting on her thighs. I recalled the experience, it was weird. I lifted my legs to find if any signs exist to prove the whole incident, being real.

No signs… I sighed…it was a dream, a horrible dream. I closed my eyes again; I have time till the morning alarm rings to remind the office timings. I went closer to my wife, placed a kiss on her fore head and stretched my hand to hold her closer. The shadow seemed to be the night mare …the crab claws…I closed my eyes and pushed myself near…more near to her….

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“Sir, boss is calling for you.”

The peon conveyed me the news. My heart started throbbing with another optimistic feel, the long awaited good news. It’s a long wait indeed, years of hard work and multi tasking. I moved my steps in a hurry, more I moved my steps faster turned my heart beats.

“May I come in, Sir?”

“Come, Sit!”

Boss ordered, without benting his sight, buried reading in something on the computer screen. I pulled the chair, and silently rested my back.

“Is there anything important, Sir?”

“Well, Kuber, you’ve been working very hard and I really appreciate your creativity, and so does everybody.”

My heart beats went faster with every spell my boss uttered. This man I respect a lot, very motivational, he will pour in dreams and make you work worth it. I use to tell my wife, my boss is more of a friend than a boss, he inspires rather than being bossy. My eyes stuck at the movements of his lips.

“ Kuber, I’ve forwarded your name for the reward of your work but there’s a small problem, the company says they have no such policies as of now…Don’t lose hope, there’s always a tomorrow, who knows there’s a better tomorrow waiting for you…”

A deep breath and I pulled my hand towards my chest…. “All is well, all is well”

My heart sank…yah a reward of good work is some more hopes to tame for some more time. I closed my eyes, flew down the well I dreamt last night…I could see the claws of the crabs distinctly… my eyes were closed and darkness prevailed inside….I tried to open my eyes to see if it was dark inside my boss’s cabin…

I opened my eyes, it was a bright sunny day.

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IN-CREAM-ANTS (INCREMENTS)

“Papa, whenever March comes to an end, I hear you talking about increment, what is it?

My little son, catching up new words on his way. Well, it took years for me to understand, yet I tried simplifying his query.

“Increment, aah well, it means ‘in cream there is an ant,’ it is all about taking a BIG BITE, bigger the morsel.”

He nodded as if he understood what I meant. Don’t know what he understood but I was in a maze of queries…Am I too an ant in the race?

Our lives are simple; all we count is our needs. The needs for which we fight our days and nights. Our needs that can be listed behind an ATM-slip. Yet, every time we de-list some of the items to satisfy the rest of our desires.

My thoughts are boundless, as my wife complains either I’m occupied by my work or some thoughts which don’t carry any extra bit of pleasure yet accounts the same amount of coin I break every month-end from our sole deposit “the earthen piggy bank”. Buried in the same imagination or dream that every middle class men eye upon, I too go to sleep. Eyes wide open…seeing the flow of needs and some bundles… which we term as joy.

I’ve never understood nor tried to, what my dad meant by the term “Middle Class,” as it seemed him tensed all his age fulfilling our routine needs. What I understood wearing my dad’s shoe is, a distant dream that tense me very often either.

Middle Class is a market of needs. Middle Class is a ladder of dreams. Middle Class is a demand for the market. Everyday a new product enters the market and a man like me feels to grab the pleasure home. We are budgeted with the “Exchange Offers”, the give and take policies that makes our identity prominent. Middle Class asks for DISCOUNTS where REBATE is meant for the highs.

“Papa, if increment means ‘in cream there is an ant’… Why do you take so much of tension? We can instead prevent the cream from the ants…!”

My thoughts ended, and YES that’s what they do. I didn’t spell out but amazed, how fast my son understands the policies that creams our needs.

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The sun may get late at bed but my days start at the first call of my alarm. What I call is limitation; I’m shorten by time with such a huge list of needs. Anyway, this seems to be a story I’m depicting about myself. Me, I’m Kuber. My parents might have dreamt of bringing a lot of fortune with my birth and hence named me after the God of Richness. I’m sure; they would have called me “Laxmi”, if I were a girl…Simple ways of working out with the frustrations.

This God of Richness belongs to a not so rich family, which the Economists terms Middle Class in their words of definition. I don’t remember what I dreamt to be when I was a child and even when I’ve grown up. The only dream that suited me was being rich as my name suggested. Since the days of puberty I’ve matured my thoughts, compromising with the needs and extra pleasure, which has been buried within the limitations of affordability. Every “NO” my dad uttered shattered my desires and compensated in a new alternative way.

I broke his dream too. Though not a game of revenge but I walked the line of passion and made it my way of living. Like normal Middle Class parents my parents too had offered two options to lead my life, either be a doctor or an engineer. My “NO” might have sounded like a thunder to them which echoed at every spell of my needs later.

My dad seemed very happy, the day when I greeted him about me being listed among the salaried group. Still don’t find a reason for his happiness may because I’ll be shifting near home or may because from his list of budget my name got evicted.

I consoled my dreams, controlled my expenses and started preparing lists as my father did. My small rented flat got added some new needs every month. The fridge to hold my week-end beer, my 29’’ TV showing some skin whenever I get some freedom. My bed got well cushioned to comfort my sleep, yet my dreams remained untouched with additional features piling up the mess.

When worries started supporting my sleepless nights, I decided to part my worries with my wife. She with our son and thus the needs got a cause to expand its reach.

“Papa, here is your shoes”

My son tried to remind that it’s time to run for the creamy race. His small feet tried to fit in my shoe; I felt a crack in my heart….

“Aaro, wear your own shoe beta, you may fall…”

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“Wallet…Tiffin….keys ….Don’t forget to have lunch on time…”

It’s also a part of my routine life. My wife’s concerned about the additional expenses that might imbalance the calculation. I’ve to have my packed lunch on time, or else the peptic juice will get their bit of chance typing a new bill in our monthly over-draft budget.

“Bye, see you in the evening…SMS me the list, I’ll fetch them on my way back….”

My car waits me every morning, ready for its morning jog in the empty city tracks, even though I take the shortest route to office, thus contributing some savings to the fuel tank. The roads are clean washed by the shower last night. Few joggers parting their mornings preventing the medical bills come their way. A ghazal that rhythmed out from my car stereo. Me, I’m booked again by my thoughts.

I don’t know how others react to their dreams but optimism flow my brain and every morning I wake the same dream. A dream that I drive every morning to office and every evening drive back with. My day dreams start processing and accelerated the rhythm of hopes.

How if I find a bag filled with currency lying on the road….the search…the count….the budget….the needs…the happiness pictured with my eyes wide open……!

How many of you have dreamt such a dream? Almost all my friends does. How many of you have worked for it? What I understood is work that carries a minute part of such a big dream.

I have routined my life, proportionate to the needs of my work, thus limiting the unproductive time and hence pulling some extra coins to my earthen piggy bank, which I break every month-end to tick the list of our needs.

“In cream there is an ant” my definition broke into a smile in me again. My son must be seeing the fridge if there’s any queue of ants thus protecting his dad from being tensed.

The fifteen minutes of thoughts coming near an end as I entered the premise, which holds my office in one of its floor. The signal light put to blink and a honk to grab the attention of the Security Person, whom I find one of the sweetest and most dutiful person on earth. I’ve never met a sad face in him, never found him casual with his work.

“Good Morning, How are you bhaiya?”

Greeting him don’t get paid but he is happy whenever I wave my hand or greet him the mornings. He’ll become busy finding some space to park my car and care for the procedure, running here and there shielding my car from getting any bruises. I don’t understand why this world differentiate human with terms like big and small, yet for me, Happiness don’t get discounted when shared.

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Climbing the fifty steps to become a corporate, reached the zone that defines us, designs us in its own desired way. Well though in my dictionary of understanding corporate means co-operation, sometimes it becomes a scary dream, standing alone in the crowed, screaming, yet no helping hand to share the panicking boredom.

A register waits my presence, and I draw the blue line marking my availability for the day. Though being a child I’ve always dreamt of autographing my fans but in real I found only one place where I’ll put my autograph every day.

The door welcomed me with its beep; my steps caught the direction of my neural instruction. My cabin of work lies in the solitary corner away from the hassles of sound pollution. My table well equipped with the wired devices, the table of exploration that I term. My chair cherished my presence with its type of welcome note. Some ants scrolled around the table, may searching for the cream like me. The dreamy cream that inspires to work. What they say increment, for me the cream for my work.

DHRUBA JYOTI SAIKIA

93.5 RED Fm

Guwahati, Assam