Virtual Queen

Oh what an addiction, obsession , affliction  
Has it developed into a clinical condition ?
I walk around in a dreamy trance      
The heart in London , the mind in France
Did it rain in New York tonight ?  
Oh ! Did that cat give you a fright ?      
A myriad thoughts run amok
With my phone screen always held aloft
Whattsapp, facebook , or plain old email
Has ruined the life of this poor female
I cook with one hand , dress with one
The phone a constant in the other one
Rarely I care bout what's been said
Lest I miss the latest status update.
I suck my breath and thrust my breast
For my DP I have to look my best
Oh! the milk is boiling but not yet spilt
And I have a few seconds to be killed
So out comes the magical screen so bright
I check a few messages in absolute delight
Oh damn ! The milk has boiled over
Who cares ? To the screen my eyes lower
I am pretty unhappy, if I may confess
As I stare desolately at the milky mess
But soon the virtual world beckons
And I am lost in it for eons and eons
A mother, a teacher I once had been
But I now pronounce myself the virtual queen
Oh what an addiction, obsession , affliction
Has it developed into a clinical condition ?

The Waiting Room

The  Waiting  Room

-     Piyu Mukerji

The neurologist’s chamber was a busy place that cold Saturday morning . Saturdays were the busiest days here, with barely any space to sit. People waited around, some patiently and some otherwise.

She  sat at the corner giggling into her mother’s lap. There was a radiance about her which was so attractive that it was difficult to keep my eyes away from her. Her hair was drawn up in a bouncy ponytail and her pink cheeks dimpled with every uncontrolled giggle. Her mother kept whispering something into her ears which made her burst into more laughter.

That Saturday morning, there  were all  kinds of people and there was this little girl in the blue sweater. A husband and wife came in , the husband looking about anxiously at the large number of people waiting. He looked around till he spotted a small place on the sofa which he showed his wife for sitting. As the wife sat down, I noticed that she kept rubbing her fingers together, clenching and unclenching them. The husband must have been a very busy man as he kept on speaking into his cell phone in low tones continuously. I wondered  about  their marriage , did she sit around watching TV as he barked order to his subordinates on his phone ? Did she fuss over her children as he buried himself in his work ? Or maybe she was a busy working professional too, taking some time off because of her illness. The husband managed to find some space to squeeze next to her on the sofa, which caused the little girl in the blue sweater to stick even closer to her mom and collapse into more giggles.

As the husband settled next to his wife , he continued speaking into the phone, only now he gingerly unclasped the wife’s trembling and clenched fingers and held them in his. His love was unspoken but omnipresent. The little girl in the meantime had started reciting a poem softly to her mother as her mother rocked to the rhythmic lilt in her voice.  I wondered why the mother had brought the child into this morbid environment? Could she not have left her behind? She would have been happier in a playground rather than here.

The man who was sitting at the corner, stared ahead without blinking. I saw his eyes mist up but he did not blink. Suddenly without any premise , he broke out into a dialogue with an imaginary character. He gestured,spoke , nodded and even shook his head vehemently. And just as suddenly as he had started, he stopped. I wondered why this man was alone today. Did he not have anyone to help him with the doctor’s visit?

The unblinking man’s sudden burst had made the old woman sitting next to him wary. She clutched the shirt of her husband sitting next to her and slowly got up and changed her seat. Human fear overtook compassion as she kept stealing fearful glances to the unblinking man. 

My little girl in the blue sweater was totally unaffected by all the misery around her.  She was cocooned  in her mother’s lap still giggling, still unbelievably happy. Some of the people were smiling at her as she giggled, maybe feeling buoyed by her enthusiasm. Some simply looked too morose to care and some I thought, were feeling jealous. Jealous of happiness so pure, jealous of the fact that she was healthy and happy while they suffered, jealous of the glow on her face which was unparalleled.

I prayed that her mom recovered quickly from whatever illness she had. This little ray of sunshine deserved to be always this happy, this radiant. As I thought these things, the doctor’s assistant nodded at the little girl’s mom to indicate that it was her turn now. The mother called out to the girl’s father who had been standing at a corner, almost invisible to the eyes. He came forward and helped the mother to make the girl stand. I realised that my little blue sunshine could not walk. Her legs stretched out limply from her body. As her parents half carried, half dragged her into the doctor’s room, she turned back one last time to give me a last sunny smile. As if she knew, that I needed the reassurance at that moment. As if she wanted to say, “ Its Ok ! Life goes on “