Free Love Is Blind by Kimaya Mathew Page A

ago,
probably cancer being the reason. After walking for some minutes in
silence, I felt something being folded in my palms as she said, “Oh
well, before I forget, happy birthday.” “What-what is this?” I
asked, as I fumbled my both hands together and came in contact with
something soft and furry. “It is a shawl. I remember you telling me
about the last one, which had lost its shiny and furry qualities.
So, I thought to get this one for you.” “Thanks,” I smiled as I
touched it again. Ruhi always knows what I want.
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    I was sleeping in a deep slumber when, out of nowhere, a
sudden sound, which sounded like my ringtone, woke me up. Searching
around, my hand came in contact with a hard metal thing. Guessing
my way on the answering button again, as I had done so many times
before, finally I pressed and held it to my ear, “Hello,” my voice
still raw as the cobwebs of fuzziness still cling to my brain. Who
is calling at such a late hour? “Mita,” said the speaker, “I love
you, I do. Talk to me once, please” “Excuse me,” I said, getting
confused, “I am sorry, this is the wrong number you have dialled.”I
hit the red button and went back to my sleep, five minutes later
the phone rang again. I picked it and heard that voice again, “I
know you are ignoring me. You did not even come to meet me today.
At least tell me where does my fault lie? Mita, don’t do this to me
sweetheart, tell me. How can you do this to your Bobby, girl…?”
Truth be told, till that time my patience level had left me. In
utter rage, I said, “Listen Mr Bobby, I am not your Mita, nor do I
know any Mita. I am telling you again and again this is the wrong
number but, it seems, you are not paying any attention to me. This
is wrong number.” I was going to cut the line when, something in
the voice halted me. “Don’t cut the phone, you hear me. If you do
that, you will regret.” “Oh please,” I said, and without thinking
further, snapped my phone shut, this time switching it off. People
like these. They have no other work but to play pranks like these
with the world, at such a wrong time.
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    One of the perks of being a teacher is you feel the utmost
satisfaction when you are guiding the future generation. You are
helping them in becoming someone, you will be proud of. I was a
story teller teacher, in my class. My students were like me, unable
to see the world and painting it in the colours of black! My only
job was to teach them good songs, tell them moralistic stories
which had been taught to me in my childhood. Once I had thought to
choose the path of sisterhood. But, when I came to know the
difficulties which lay in the path of mine, I dropped the idea. I
am a great admirer of holy bible. Sister Kusum had recorded every
psalm, every gospel in a mini tape for my hearing. Christian music
is my favourite genre. So, in my usual routine way, I was busy
telling one of the stories from the bible, when a knock from the
door side halted me in my tracks. “May I come in mam?” “Yes,” I
smiled recognising Ruhi’s voice at once. Class greeted her, as she
entered. “Sit down,” she said, and then turned to me. “Can I have
some of your precious time? I need you to accompany me somewhere,”
she whispered near my ear. She sounded so serious and worried too.
Class had started murmuring in them, having their normal children
talk.” What is it?” I asked, “Everything’s alright,” “No,” she
said, “Come with me outside. I will explain everything.”
    ***********************************************************
    After some minutes of our conversation, I seated myself in her
car and felt the vehicle speeding up on the smooth hilly road. The
news she had delivered was a grave one. One of her friend had tried
to commit suicide and had been admitted to the hospital. Sir
Vishwanath Makhija, the attorney of the