Epistle 39: The Cost of Knowledge
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8th June, 2001:
The cost of knowledge is nothing but experience.
This morning, Maa was giving me a foot massage while Baba sat beside me, cracking some jokes. Maa and myself couldn't help but laugh at the honestly with which he said them, and Baba only smiled sheepishly. And just like that, I realized how we had laughed together like this for the first time in months. Maa and Baba have stood silently beside me through all the turmoil and pain in my life without even the slightest bit of complaint.
My pain was their pain, my unhappiness was theirs. If I could not find solace in a cruel world, they would abandon happiness for me just so that I could have the solace that I had someone beside me who felt my pain, who understood me just as well. But the one drowning in the suffocating mass of pain always remains oblivious to their surroundings. I wish I hadn't caused my parents so much trouble, hadn't been such a burden upon their already ageing and burdened shoulders.
But they've always stood by my side, no matter what. If my pain had made them despondent, then I've now made sure to make my happiness their strength. Maa and I spend several afternoons talking about things in general, both of us taking comfort from each other's presence. Several times, I fall asleep upon her lap just as she would narrate one of her old folklore stories from my distant childhood, or would sing me a lullaby for old time's sake. Several times, we would simply hug each other and gather our fears up and lock it away, only letting the splendor of the sunlight fall upon us.
Maa has grown fonder of Ishaani now. She seems to welcome her warmly every time she comes to meet me and makes her favourite dishes at times too. Inspite of it all, she knows how much Ishaani cares for me and how much she's done for me, and she appreciates it. She sees my point of view now. Baba never had any of the issues that Maa did, but then again Baba was Baba.
Baba spends the nights talking about everything he's been learning during his job as a driver, remarking about how life in Mumbai is. Just like the initial days when Baba and myself would fall asleep several nights talking about the grandeur of a city that had just as many dark secrets as all. Sometimes, he simply ruffles my hair and talks about how proud Mota Babuji is of me and how I've made them (my parents) and would continue making them so.
If Baba has the days free at times, he takes me out for a small walk at the park. The doctor has advised not to overexert me, but the walking exercise with my crutches is a must. During these walks, Baba often buys me my favourite butterscotch ice-cream while he satisfies himself with a paper cone of peanuts. Peanuts are a no-no for me, like you know. We talk a lot more, Baba always listening to the dreams my small eyes see and he takes immense pride in me. He never fails to show it and that always does it for me. It gives me the optimism that I still have a long way to go.
Parents. They always know everything.
Coming to the next important thing. Today, it's been exactly four months since Ishaani's birthday passed by, and I still feel so guilty for not being able to gift her something for it. Not that I was in that frame of mind four months ago to care about anything, but now that I feel human enough, I cannot stop feeling guilty about it.
Thankfully, I think I do have something in mind to give her that she would like. I don't know... my Ishaani is not the girl for materialistic things, so that's always a relief for me. She attaches sentimental value to things far more than any monetary one, so I know that she will like it. She hasn't asked me yet, but I can see the longing in her eyes every time she enters my room and sees it sitting idly by the window side. Oddly enough, I can see the uncomfortable squirm every time she sees the abstract painting. It frightens her for some reason; maybe it's too red.
But there is something wrong with Ishaani. Something is bothering her and I want to know what that is.
And to think that I was the one being testy in all those months. No, I've been an oblivious and selfish idiot who has been only craving for love and attention, but I seemed to have ignored a lot of things. The main one being Ishaani. It's in these two months of sanity where I've noticed that she looks strained half of the time, while she's fidgety in the other hald. Sometimes, she simply refuses to meet my eyes, sometimes, she's somber and will simply hug me for no reason. She thinks that I don't see it, but now I do. There is a lot more than is meeting my eye.
Anyways, I'd spoken to Baba about it and he loved my idea! He's got the thing framed up (finally, a useful outflow of my savings for her birthday), and now it's a neat parcel. I'm thinking of going and giving it to Ishaani personally. She must be in her room right now and since I've finally learnt the knack of using the crutches, I think I can manage it. The doctor has strictly told me not to climb stairs yet, but Baba can help me out here. Oh my, it's no wonder why the doctors are fed up of me.
I never obey anything they tell me to do.
-x-
What happened between us right now is proof that my suspicions are valid.
So like I'd decided, I asked Baba to help me make my way towards Ishaani's room. I can walk on my own as well with the crutches but the heights make me feel rather breathless, and since the stairs are a lot, the doctors have asked me to take someone's help. So I chose Baba to take along. He carried Ishaani's wrapped-up gift in one hand while he partially supported me with the other. It was a tough ascend, much more so for him than me, but we managed along just fine. No matter what my mother may have said when she bid me goodbye on that platform four years ago, Baba was always going to be my pillar of strength, not vice-versa. That's how parents are.
Once we reached her room, Baba gently knocked upon the door just as I re-adjusted the crutches and stood painfully, my legs slightly tingling. Ishaani opened the door quickly enough, looking stunned to see myself and Baba standing outside the door, her mouth falling upon a comical 'O'. I quickly entered the room and half collapsed upon the bed just as Baba put the wrapped gift beside me. It was big, and it certainly caught Ishaani's attention. Smiling at the two of us, Baba quickly left the room, while Ishaani shut the door and looked at me, shocked.
"What is wrong with you? The doctor told you not to do it!" she reprimanded in exasperation, while I only beamed at her.
"Well, I had to see you," I replied in earnest, and she smiled softly.
"You could have called me over to your room, you know," she suggested, but I shook my head.
"I know, but it's something I had to give you personally," I confessed, now feeling even more excited.
"I assume that you are talking about the big package? This better be worth the pain you have taken," she remarked, chuckling. Instances like these were the only few times where she laughed from her heart these days, mysterious that she was.
"I hope that it is," I replied rather nervously, feeling fidgety. She looked at the package next to me.
"What is it?" she asked curiously, her eyes looking eager.
"Your birthday gift. I know I'm four months late-" I replied instantly, adding an apology that Ishaani never let me complete.
"-or eight months early," she cut in, just as I continued.
"-but I just hope that you like it," I ended, now suddenly hoping that the gift would actually be worth the wait. Goodness knows that Ishaani deserves nothing but the best.
"I know that I'm going to love it," she assured me, and the smile upon my face grew of its own accord.
Without another word, she picked up the present and quickly tore open the paper packing from around the mysteriously heavy gift until out fell a painting. Her painting. The same one I'd made of hers two months ago. I spent my savings in getting it framed and done up properly, only making a singular addition of signing my name at the bottom right of the painting. On each border of the frame, I'd written a quote that was now engraved in rich calligraphy:
Hope is where the dead see the spark of love.
In life, companionship is where strength lay; solitude is where the misery followed.
Death is where the next adventure of life begins.
Colours blend all the pain within until pain becomes a colourful story.
Ishaani stared at the frame in utter disbelief for the next few minutes, barely taking in what she saw until she put the frame down and looked at me in a dream-like state. Before I could ask her anything, she flung her arms around my neck, nearly knocking me off the bed.
"This is best gift you could have ever given me! I'm putting this upon the wall right now," she whispered ecstatically, her eyes twinkling with the joy of it.
I blushed as she separated herself from myself, quickly walking up to the empty wall that desired the presence of a painting. Thanking her stars that a nail was already embedded into the wall, she quickly brought out the stool from under the dressing table and climbed upon it, the frame now in her hand. Juggling with her balance for a few minutes while I sat there hoping that she wouldn't fall and hurt herself, she finally emerged victorious ten minutes later, the frame now a welcome part of the apple-green wall.
She turned to look back at me and I gave her a thumbs-up, speaking softly.
"I'm happy that you liked it. And I'm sorry-"
"Shush, I'm not hearing another one of those apologies," she cut through my speech blatantly, and I shrugged my shoulders. She's been cross with me for apologizing to her so many times that I don't push her more.
"Alright, fine," I sighed, my eyes scanning the room to see whether there was anything else we could discuss about. And then my eyes fell upon her diary on the bed along with two sheets of papers. A mystery. "What's those papers over there?"
Even before I had the chance to get a better look of them, Ishaani leapt upon the bed and stuffed them in her diary. Bad move. Even she seemed to realize it because the next moment, she tried to cover up her action.
"Uh... it's nothing important. Just- just some stuff," she tried to justify lamely. God, she was a terrible liar. I could read the lie and the truth in her eyes so well that no day I could be deceived.
"Come on, it's alright. You can tell me," I told her slowly, realizing that now was the best time to bring out the topic of what I wanted to discuss with her.
"There's nothing to tell," she retorted defensively. "I have no secrets from you."
"That's not true, you do," I countered in a quiet voice. She looked at me, taken aback.
"Like what?" she asked me quickly, and I could see her rake her mind about what probable secret she could have kept from me. I eased her out from the tedious process.
"You haven't told me why you hadn't visited me at the hospital yet, except for that short one," I remarked, my voice slightly edgier than I hoped it to be.
That question was still a sore spot to me, and was co-incidentally something that Ishaani hadn't answered to yet. And like all times whenever I asked her the question, Ishaani's face reflected an unease as her eyes refused to meet mine. She took to playing with her skirt as a distraction.
"There's nothing to tell. Nobody allowed me to," she replied evasively. We both knew that it was a lie.
"Falguni Maa believes differently. She says that the one time you came to visit me was also because she had scolded you to do so," I replied back quickly, now unable to keep the accusatory tone out from my voice.
"Drop it, okay?" she shot at me heatedly, and I admit that her reaction startled me. Shedding aside the curiosity of her absence, I took her hand into my own and made her meet eyes with me. They looked slightly red.
"Ishaani, what's wrong?" I asked her lovingly, while I could see her lips quiver now. Before she had the chance to defend herself, I continued.
"You aren't yourself lately. You pretend to be all happy, but I can see a strange fear lurk in your eyes every time we are together. I can see how pale you go every time I talk about my dreams. I sense how nervous you get every time I talk about how God has given me a third life after my two accidents. Something is eating you from within, and I'm worried and scared for you. Don't think I don't notice. Just because I don't say anything doesn't mean that I don't know," I added, and she looked irritated now.
"It's nothing, alright? Just a silly nightmare!" she confessed in the heat of the moment. I could see the regret splash across her face the next minute.
"What nightmare?" I questioned sharply as her eyes widened. There was no escape now. And suddenly, something clicked in my mind.
"Wait, is that why you came to me that night? Because you were having the nightmare?" I asked her again, and she simply nodded her head.
"Well, what is it about? Tell me," I insisted, but she shook her head resolutely.
"It's nothing, alright? Drop it."
"If I could tell you my dreams and nightmares alike, why can't you?" I complained, now curious as to why wouldn't she confess anything to me. Wasn't I supposed to be her secret-keeper?
"You told me that after four years, when you were prepared to tell me. I'm not prepared. The day I am, I will tell you," she replied defiantly, indicating that she did not want to have the conversation any more.
"And when will that day come?" I asked her with mock confusion. When Ishaani didn't reply, I added placidly. "Never?"
Ishaani looked at me icily, her voice now cold when she spoke next.
"Look, let's just talk about something else, alright?"
"Fine, if you don't want to tell me, don't. I'll find out eventually," I challenged her, my mind now thinking about the best way to get to the root of the matter.
"What do you mean?" she shot back pointedly, but all I did was give her a blank stare.
"That's not for you to know," I replied testily, not bothering to emphasize any further. She gave me a threatening look.
"Ranveer, what are you-" she began heatedly, but before she could say anything further, I broke into a fit of coughing.
And I couldn't stop for the next two minutes. Ishaani's anger quickly faded away as she stared at me, first bewildered, then slightly concerned. Setting the diary aside, Ishaani quickly brought over a glass of water from the bedside, handing it over to me. Rubbing my back carefully, she watched me drink the water greedily as I coughed some more, air still not enough. It was moments like these when air turned to be a betrayer, never filling me up enough no matter how much I tried.
The doctors did warn me not to exert myself too much for the breathlessness would continue for quite some time until my diaphragm didn't become healthy enough again. And I guess that it must have been climbing the stairs and talking so much that must have snuffed the breath out from me. She sat down so that she was now at my eye level as she continued to rub my back, taking her hand off when I hissed in pain. The scar was still there like a mini-crater and it did hurt when touched.
"Are you alright? Do you need me to call someone?" she asked me worriedly, and I shake my head. My eyes had begun to water now.
"No... No... I'm fine... I don't know what went wrong..." I wheezed out to her. Somehow, I still felt a little out of breath. I was certain now that it the stairs and too much talking that got me.
"I- I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I'm very sorry," she spoke in a frightened tone as though she was the cause of my predicament. Before I could say anything, however, Falguni Maa entered the room, looking at the two of us quizzically.
"Ranveer, what are you doing here?" she asked sternly, knowing that I had disobeyed what the doctor had strictly warned me.
"Maa, he's just had a coughing fit, its better he doesn't talk. He came over here to give me my birthday present," spoke Ishaani quickly before I even had the chance to open my mouth.
"Birthday present?" asked Falguni Maa, now looking at me in exasperation while I gave her a sheepish look.
"Yeah, come see," said Ishaani with a broad smile upon her face even though her eyes no longer had that twinkle.
She pulled Falguni Maa into the room and showed her the painting that oddly enough did surprise me every time I looked at it. By the time Falguni Maa was done admiring the painting, she had a look that mirrored Ishaani's from a few minutes ago. She gave me a motherly look, speaking sagely.
"You've pampered her too much." I blushed for the second time before I croak out once again.
"No, I-"
"Shhh, don't talk," said Falguni Maa gently. My breathing still hadn't become normal. Falguni Maa continued. "Save your breath. Ishaani, are you ready?"
"Ready?" asked Ishaani, now looking confused.
"For going shopping, ofcourse. You wanted to buy some new dresses, right? There's a good sale on in Bandra, like I told you yesterday," reminded Falguni Maa while Ishaani now slapped her forehead.
"Oh yeah, I completely forgot. I'm ready," she said quickly, taking her mother's hand in her own.
"Ranveer, will you be alright?" questioned Falguni Maa once again and I nod my head. "Stay over here for as long as you want until you feel alright. Then make sure that you shut the door before you leave the room, okay?" I nodded my head once again and she smiled kindly.
"Bye, and take care please," said Ishaani, giving me a small smile.
Both mother and daughter left the room, leaving the odd silence to myself. I looked around the room awkwardly just as I felt my breath come in regularly now, until my eyes fell upon Ishaani's diary. In her haste and the chaos I created, she had forgotten to keep it in. And that's where the thought sprung up - what if...?
It wasn't like I was reading her diary. I just wanted to know what she had written on that piece of paper. It was a long battle I had to fight with my conscience until my heart won. I had to see for myself what was bothering her, no matter what it was. And I wouldn't mention about it to her. I would wait for her to explain it all when she felt ready. I just wanted to know what was eating at her from within. I needed an answer.
Carefully removing the two sheaves of paper, I saw the first one and discarded it quickly. It was our summation about my dreams and Love. Ishaani just had the one sheet; I had the sheet plus the personal account of my dreams for my help. But it wasn't what interested me. The whole sheet was nearly identical except for one question.
Relationship between Ranveer's dream and mine - ?
And that question perked up my curiosity further. I knew that what I was doing was going to be a breach of trust, but I had to do it for her own good. If I wouldn't know what hurt her, how would I try to heal her?
I took out the other sheet and read through it slowly, deliberately, taking in each and every word as though this was the last time I would be seeing it. And what I read made my blood go cold. Instantly, all the blocks fell into place and that too without any effort. I gulped nervously as I set the sheet down and wiped my brow clear of the light sweat that had now begun to form. Ishaani had good reason to keep this away from me. God, if only I had heeded her advice.
The cost of knowledge is nothing but experience.
Sometimes, some things that you once see can never be unseen. And such was the case with me. I quickly took a blank sheet of paper and a pen from the bedside table and copied down the entire page as fast as I could, before I placed the sheets back into the diary and silently left the room with only one though firmly implanted in my mind. There was nothing connected about her dream and mine. The only co-incidence was that she had dreamt about me dying and I had dreamt about Love dying on the same day.
And this only reminded me about the several mysteries of my own dream. And if that was less, Ishaani's dream fell like a bomb upon me. This was knowledge at a great cost. It was more than once when I had to mentally slap myself hard and reprimand myself for thinking such formidable things, but I couldn't help it. It was as though somebody had just given me my execution day. Okay, I know that I'm being really silly now, and I'm definitely overreacting.
Rather than pacifying Ishaani, I've taken to exaggerating it. No wonder she didn't tell me - she must have anticipated my initial reaction. If she would have seen me the whole this afternoon, she wouldn't have been disappointed. But no, I refuse to believe this. This must all be just a figment of her subconscience given the accident I've just recovered from, although that's quite a terrible figment, I must admit. Rather brutal, gut-wrenching and a painfully slow yet quick way to die. Just like the time at the factory.
No, no man has ever known his fate except those who had the will to carry on, knowing what it meant for the greater good. Man has never known what the future held for him because he is not adept to accepting it with grace; he will always want to defy it and alter it. No, this is just a nightmare, nothing more. The two of us are just overreacting because we've come out from a trauma. Yeah, that's it. It's just a dream, nothing else. God, I really shouldn't have read it.
Curiosity always killed the cat. But the question is - would the cat die fifteen years later?
Constructive criticism will be more than welcome and sorry for any typos. :D :D
Next chapter:
Epistle 40
Edited by LadyMeringue - 8 years ago
CID
Bade Achche Lagte Hain Naya Season
