A Very Sorry Tale

One day, you'll land me in a hospital."

Ok, so he also said that I'll land him in jail/mental asylum/ purgatory
/Bermuda Triangle. So technically he should be happy that he still has four more chances. But then he’s never been happy with too little. (Sigh!)

My bad luck that this time he has full right to crow because its strike one Iamme!

You see, I did send him to the hospital.

And obviously my LIGHTHOUSE (that’s him by the way) is not very happy. But then he's never had a high opinion of me! And though I've made a lifetime of showing I don't give a damn about what he thinks, the fact is I do.

And since I can’t tell him in person about how very/ absolutely/ acutely/awfully/certainly/deeply/emphatically/exceedingly/extremely/greatly/highly/positively/ profoundly/really/remarkably/terribly/truly SORRY I’m for being the reason he is lying unshaven on a hospital bed…I’m doing it here. (Well, there is also the certainty that he’ll never visit this blog so I can be really really honest…hehe!)

Anyway, let me reconstruct what happened on the fateful night of June 7. PS: I won’t forget THAT moment as long as I live. Considering that I’ve only 29,693 such moments in my 26 years, you better take this seriously.

So this is what happened…

Me (Very crabby after spending 19 hours in office): “Yeah, what’s up?”

LIGHTHOUSE (Driving his Lancer): “I’m in Delhi. What have you been up to?”

Me (Munching on a very bad apple…yuck): “Just…what’s up with you?”

LIGHTHOUSE (Cruising along nicely now on some Delhi flyover): “Just…heard Salman Khan had a new hair-weave!”

Me (Making a face): “Yeah, in London.”

LIGHTHOUSE (Honking): “No, I heard it was in Canada.”

Me (Agitated): “Puhlease, I know better than you.”

LIGHTHOUSE (Honking+ Cruising): “No, I’m telling you it was Toronto. A friend has a salon and he told me.”

Me (Throwing my apple in the bin): “It was London.”

LIGHTHOUSE (Honking furiously): “Toronto”

Me (Pacing the floor): “London.”

Suddenly a loud noise and his phone started emitting a loud siren like long beep…….eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppppppppppppppppp

Me (Heart thudding): “Hello Lighthouse, can you hear me? What have you done to your phone?”

No response from the other end.

This part is edited because I can never really describe what I went through during this time.

CUT TO 7 minutes and 55 seconds later. I called his number and some alien voice picked up.

Alien Voice: “This person has had an accident and we’re taking him to Apollo Hospital.”

Devastation. Oops I did it again moment!

Frantic calls to Understanding boss and World’s best father. Both urge me to just leave for Delhi. I did.

And spent an entire day praying/fighting/transacting with God. LIGHTHOUSE was in deep sleep for one full day. His family was informed. Thankfully, when his parents landed, LIGHTHOUSE opened his beautiful light eyes.

And the light came back in my life.

I know, he doesn’t hold me guilty for this mishap. But I know better. Anyway, we have the rest of my life to sort this out. Right now, I just want to welcome him back. And to say again that I’m sorry.

Thank god, he won’t be reading this!

The Heartbreak Kid

The day I met Manu, I was nursing the worst kind of heartache. My most precious-pretty-plastic-pink-pencil box was suddenly declared missing by my brother. Since it was his responsibility of making sure that the prettiness remains in my life, can you blame me when I decided to never speak to him?

Anyway, since I don't want to remember past hurts, let me quickly get on to the real topic.

Manu.... the most special boy in my life.

The first thing the then-six-years-old-boy did when he looked at the sulking me was to laugh uproariously. He threw back his head and…just laughed. You can imagine what that did to my already splintered heart!

Apparently his laughter had an equal and opposite reaction to my lachrymals. I cried buckets. But Manu wouldn't stop laughing! Insulting. Embarrassing. Humiliating. Awkward. Bewildering. Compromising and Very Confusing.

Once the torrent was over, I went up to his mother and enquired quite belligerently if her son was mad. The pretty lady looked at me, smiled and whispered, "Yes, Manu is special."

The import of her comment went unnoticed to the ditzy, melodramatic 12-years-old that I was (at that time). I could just stand there, stare at him and call him a basket!! I don't think I was this miserable ever.

When we got home (the incident happened at a family friend's place) my mother informed me Manu was an autistic child. I didn’t know what that was. So, mom made me read up on autism. I did. And life changed for me.

Manu was instrumental in my decision to study psychology in college. Manu also became the trigger point for an important learning: that doctors and medicine don’t always have all the answers.

Over the years, Manu and I have kept in touch. Everybody around him tells me that he is quite fond of me. And that our first meeting was quite historic. Apparently, Manu rarely smiled. And I managed to make him laugh…

Now Manu is 20 years old. He hardly talks to me, doesn’t let me touch him at all…but somehow whenever he sees me… he laughs.

I don’t mind the laughter anymore. Because I know it’s only for me.

Love him!