Those tarot cards..!

Tarot cards!

   There was a funfair organised today.  There were stalls of delicious Indian dishes particularly the famous street food like the spicy Pani puri, huge Vada pavs, sweet smelling Jalebis. Besides just the handmade creative paper stalls and shacks of beautiful, extraordinary embroidered scarf’s and suits at the end of the passage on the extreme corner lay a stall particularly crowded. 

    My attention drew towards it since I couldn't figure out what it was due to which curiosity grew into me. I made my way though the ladies and children to see the source of attraction and there it was, the stall of tarot. "What’s your question?"A mysterious looking stout woman asked, lowering her head as she raised her spectacles with her finger. This is how Tarot works, the customer is to ask a question and with the play of cards the lady is apparently suppose to determine the answer to it. I know, right?  Humans of today have totally stopped having faith in themselves; we've become so vulnerable to such kind of 'luck-based' things that even if it is purely for money or utter rubbish we chose to believe it.

    ''You want to try it? You can ask her if you are going to get into United World College'' said my mom tapping on my shoulder. I kind of knew that these things are not real after all how is the selection of cards going speak about my future and the efforts that I am willing to put in to get into this college. 

 Ever since I've passed out of my 10th grade I have wanted nothing more but get into the institution. In my family, that consists of only: My dad, mom, sister, Oscar and I .My sister has always gotten a phone after her 10th and 12th grade so I consider it a tradition sort of thing; you know to get a phone after a big exam. Yet I didn't feel a need for, I was quite satisfied with my 'wonderful' blackberry which was in a 'decent' condition. I still haven't understood why I want to get into UWC so desperately. Maybe it is because my heart just tells me it’s going to change my life for the good and since my parents whole hardheartedly support me I quite rely on that.

   "Want to try it?" Mom repeated. ''Sure" I responded. I nervously sat on the chair and asked my question, "Will I get into united world college?'' I said confidently. She shuffled her cards for a long time and laid them on the front table in a straight line. She picked up a card at random and told me to do the same. My eyes kept staring at all of them as if my eyes were and x ray machine and I could which card would give me positive results, so then I simply chose the center card and flipped it around. These were not regular cards, they looked like some ancient Greek cards probably used only to make the customer feel ‘It’s something different ya'. She analyzed both the cards and imminently said ''nope' '.My eyes became wide and I could feel this bulky kind of thing in my throat. "Maybe be something better is planned for you dear" she smiled and explained me ONLY because I was really hurt by what she said. "Thank you so much oldie for saying the simple no to me. Do you even know that I haven't applied as yet? Before I could even do anything you're just stomping everything because your unusual cards say so? COMEON!" I wish I could say these words to her but of course not. 

    I was Furious. I didn't know how to react to all of this. Should I listen to her Tarot cards and not waste my time in something I’m not going to achieve or should I give a damn to what she is saying and perhaps prove her wrong? Maybe I was just overreacting to this since it was a ‘funfair’ and it was a part of the 'fun'(which was not at all entertaining) whatever it was...If her negative response influenced me so much what about other kids like me who base their decision on these fake facts. We behold our future; our efforts decide are future and no Tarot woman can change that.

Happily never after

dedicated to my awesome friends

But miss, we go out once in a blue moon, why should we have restrictions on how to behave, and what to wear? We need that exposure” I exclaimed persuasively.It was an everyday scene. We, the boarders of the St. Louis school, could argue in finding faults in this place every second of the day, literally every second. Well, boarding is supposed to be that way, isn't it? So, convincing became a useless skill like asking the walls to walk and the dogs to fly. Whatever! If I could write down my complaints and inconvenience, I could write a whole novel all together, BUT nothing stood in front of the great friends I made, nothing at all. Even a tiny candle lights a dark room. Similarly, their blooming faces, enlightening smiles lit my dark stay in the boarding. I’m sure of that, that everyone one has those friends that they can die for, I guess these were mine. Ramanika, Kiara, Zoya, Vikas, Armaan and other five of us together were crazy! Laughing at jokes which were as meaningless as chemistry, Trekking was like an adventurous and dangerous trip to Saturn. You cannot really describe the times you have which people as close as these ones were to me because they are so beautiful that they mesmerize you. Ramanika and Zoya were my roommates and besides just having uncountable dancing and screaming memories, we always stood there for each other. In fact, everyone else did too, including Kunal, Honey, Nandu, and Ayan. If it hadn’t been them, I don't know how dramatically slow my life would be in that dark room.

 It was the last day of school. Yes, the day when we promised to stay in touch, meet regularly and other bullshit and we knew would be forgotten into oblivion. When it came the last goodbyes to the last ten faces, I was unable to say anything. Only hugs and tears were the things that portrayed the sign of me in the corner of their hearts (brain to be realistic). I wanted myself to stay with them as long as they would in me. Soon, we all settled in our own lives. Soon, was really very fast. I was an architect with an income of twenty cores per annum. Big cars, big achievements, big parties, College had been a blink of an eye. Indore wasn’t the place of me. I wasn’t able to even make a single friend. I used to get ragged too. So during my college years my only pals were my chemistry, physics and mathematics books, to whom I gave my full attention and determination. I was doing quite well in my life. Good enough for my parents to have all the comforts and luxurious they desired for. Good enough to donate money to my extended family to start up a ‘business’ which they were trying to start up ever since I was born or even before that. I earned good enough to roam in a Porsche, Smell jimmy choo, wear Prada and walk mango. I did attend a lot of parties with companions whom I really cannot call friends like I did to those people I did in 2013. They’d just hang out with me; fill empty spaces in cars, some memory in the sim card and time in the schedule. Even though we didn’t share that ‘tell secrets’ factor. “Buzz” my phone rang.“Hello, Munira?” the voice on the other line questioned.

“Yes, speaking?” I threw back another question“Vikas, you remember? We were in St. Louis together and in the 11^th grade, I was your partner as well. I had gifted you a superman ring. Are you still that obsessed with that lunatic? Ha-ha. I’d pull your cheeks a dozen times a day to irritate you. Arrey, I’m the same guy who you and Armaan would call idiotic names and tickle.”“Vikas! Of course I remember you. The day when Shantanu sir slapped you and all of us left the class in a sign of protest! Anyways, how are you doing? How is life?“Munira, you don't have to be so formal with me. I know it’s been years, but recent  my wife was cleaning a really old shelf in the cupboard and a picture of our group fell down…I couldn’t think of anything else but to call one of you’ll. It was easy to get your number since you have become such a big shot. Anyways, I really thought, you know once in a while we all would catch up or bump into each other. It’s upsetting that our friendship turned out to be so vague.”“Firstly, you are married! Oh my god, who married you mad man?! Hahahha, I really miss all of this. AND hello, I’m not such a big shot okay? Don't exaggerate things like you always do. Even I thought that we all would meet at least once.” Talks with Vikas felt like we were back in the old times. Back in school with two pig tails and dirty brown uniforms. A sudden nostalgic feeling struck me and I did nothing but get the numbers of my lost friends from just dial. Well, it didn’t turn out to be like I had expected. Zoya couldn’t recognize me at all however hard I tried to tell her. She just couldn’t. I was shattered. My last definitions of friends were them, those whom I encountered in school. There is nothing worse than the feeling of being forgotten by those people whom you cannot forget. I did try calling up others, but some had changed their numbers, some had changed their countries while some had changed their friends.  I was financially doing a boom, still somewhere I lacked satisfaction. Back in 2013, I remember having a discussion that money was the ultimate source of happiness. Since it was better to cry in a BMW than on a cycle, but now a faithful shoulder seemed so much better than an empty car. I wanted to meet everyone at least once so I could say a bye properly and then, no more expect anything else. Frankly a reunion would have been so much better; there was nothing I could do. I was the only one who hadn’t moved on enough. Just to kill the urge, I finally sent a mail to all of them.

  Dear My St. Lousier, Every since the day we passed out and moved into our own ways, I had missed you all. It wasn’t easy for me to forget people whom I ate with, studied with, and got up with. So, I’m writing this just so that I could tell you’ll how lucky I was to have friends like you. Ramanika, I’m sure you have excelled in the field of medical and Zoya I know you still are a fashion maniac. I don't think I have ever told you this before but you guys were the best roommates ever. Kaira and Aman youll were the reason for my migrane attacks nevertheless I don’t think I will ever getting mad dancing partner like both of you. Dancing was beyond the limits of fun.

 Dearest Armaan, how I wish we could come back to those days when we would hum in class and the teacher would waste half the period finding the culprit. Not just this, but everything was so much more retarded when done together. Specially, writing those aimless stories when bald people came out of the principal’s office and killed everyone. It sounds so stupid now but we used to laugh on this for hours. Vikas and Hannah! I spent days weeping on your shoulders when I fought with mom, or failed a test and when Fishy died. I can’t thank you’ll enough. Kunal, Ayan and Nandu, all the nuisance were a million dollar thing. Helping in studies, specially chemistry and physics (if I’m a successful architect, it’s all because of you). It was so difficult to imagine me without you. Friendship was so important then, right?

 Holding hands all through school like, we finally cleared board exams with flying colours. All through think and thing we dealt it as a team. Me without you’ll was like a bird without wings. I love those times, I love you’ll. I kind of felt a vacuum between us all, so I just wanted to bid farewell. Last I remember was only hugs and tears, let’s make it happier this time. I haven’t really had friends ever since that time, I expected a comeback, but nevertheless, your place in my heart will always is statutory. It’s too emotional whatever I said so thanks for being patient and reading this.It was great to have you’ll making me smile,All through the childhood, you’ll were mine.

With warmest regards,

Munira

And then I logged out of my Gmail account and slept with the longest smile.

ATTACHMENTS

‘’ Hey, can I also join you all?’’

A feminine voice was recognized in a small corner of Dakshatra Academy. Well, to be precise, that question arose from the extreme end of the circular infrastructure which was well known as the cricket ground for the students. 'Students for cricket' only defined boys from 3rd to 7th grade. It wasn’t even a proper ground, just a rectangular concrete plane where they played a Desi version of that sport- The Galli Cricket.

 I, being a girl of 10th grade decided to re-define this meaning by joining in to play along with them.

 To be frank, I had always hated cricket. But the craze of IPL had overtaken my thoughts of it completely. In fact, watching the match with millions of frenzied people in a stadium just made me fall in love with the game. The very next day I geared up with my cap and marched to the allotted arena. May be the acceptance of me was only because I was senior to them, if nothing else. Fielding was what I did for over a month with a satisfied response, since I thought observing is the best form of learning. So, after a long resilient wait, " let her bat'’ Ashutosh remarked. It was just a normal thing, but for me it seemed like the biggest opportunity of my life! I held the bat much like a dyslexic guy and stood in front of the stumps, trying to imitate the younger boys I had seen batting. One of them, a kinder one, came over and corrected my stance and showed me how to hold the bat. I gladly followed as instructed and got ready to face the bowler. The first ball came rushing towards my legs. I tried to put the bat in the suitable position, but alas! The ball landed in the hands of the wicket keeper.

  "Aditya, can’t you see? She is a girl, throw an easy ball to her'' kartik shouted from afar.

Now that’s what I hated the most; the unnecessary use of that line. When it is for dance no one said so! When it came for studies, no one ever did, then why now? And what was even more insulting was that it came from the mouth of a 10 year old! Thinking I was stressing on the issue too much, I did what I had came for. The slow and steady ball reappeared and this time, fortunately I was not only able to give it a touch but sliced it as well to the left. I was overjoyed. Of course no one understood that. They didn’t know how I felt. For, they were simply `born` with that skill which I was not; which not every girl was. Never mind. My enthusiasm for cricket grew with every passing day. Sometimes it went with me fielding or sometimes with a chance of batting and on special days with an over with a flood of wide balls.  Not long after I became a part of the 'cricket clan', our school organised DCL- Dakshatra Cricket league having six teams and a girl member per team. I was impressed and shocked at the progress of our school, which for the first time had not ignored the deserted fact that it was a co-ed school.

 Those matches! Ah! How much I crave for those moments to come back! Our team made it to the 4th position with me being the only girl to contribute a solitary run. Nevertheless it personally meant a lot to me Man-of-the-matches were declared with medals and winners awarded the trophies. It was a grand ceremony I must say. My happiness knew no bounds. Very soon a match was organised, exclusively for the girls: Boarders Vs Day-Boarders.  Not to get into the details, it was a fantastic, remarkable, fabulous and an excellent match, not just because it was my dream come true, but for other reasons as well. To start with, my bowling was ridiculous with seven wide balls out of 12. However my batting was MUCH better. In fact I was declared the 'woman of the match’. My smile had never been so genuine and broad, at least not since I had joined the boarding school.  If it were not for the people around, tears of immense happiness would have rolled down my cheeks at a high speed. I was so overwhelmed, more than the words can describe. My diehard dedication for cricket had finally resulted into something bright, it had realised all my efforts so profoundly. Friends came, friends congratulated; enemies came, enemies congratulated. Everyone acknowledged my game and yes, we had won too! Despite playing with boys this was the result. I knew my passion could bring me much more, my capability was beyond this. At 5:00 am, when the sports time began, my tiny friends asked me about the match updates, and I proudly told them my achievements. All I was expecting was a little more of importance and better acceptance on the field of cricket and nothing else after discovering that I do play well. I had faith. I was an idiot. Trespassers would tell me that I shouldn’t waste time like this. They said I should do something with my girlfriends where there was a sense of equality for all. But my mind still attracted to that pain of wanting my young friends to give me a chance. So typical it was, 'cricket is not for girls'. Like those 18th century acts, where girls were helpless. I felt the same. Nevertheless, I would continue to stand in the rectangle daily, seeking to be a part of the team. Of course they didn’t notice nor did they try to understand. My dream wasn’t to become some professional female cricketer to inspire and change the world and stuff like that. It was simple. I wanted to play. I wouldn’t bother to explain because they were small and arrogant.  So, for another slow month I stood like a widow in a spot where even the ball decided not to come. At times I would cry to myself and walk away from the field and vowed never to come again. But I always failed. It sounds so exaggerated and melodramatic! How my little time with cricket made me so awfully attached to it! But that was it.  Soon my desire of cricket was killed by the introduction of the deadly board exams. I had to set priorities right. I had to dedicate more time for studies which I did by cutting down on my play time. Choosing to stand aimlessly over academics would be stupidity.

 So that was the last time I saw the orange bat, yellow plastic stumps, green hard tennis ball and those evil children so close to me. Every time after school they would play and I would watch, they would play and I would only study. They would play and I would cry. For the first time I had felt something so close to me. Not because I really played well (in fact I didn’t) but because it gave my heart a soothing feeling. A season ball hit my chest when I forever bade goodbye to Dakshatra Academy.   Cricket was history. Boards were the past. School days had gone. I had stepped into a new life, back to Mumbai from Nagpur. That was magic. Clubbing was main stream, bunking classes was crazy but the best part was that life was so open. "The world is your playing field", said Ms Briganza, our literature teacher. The whole class yawned. I remember if I would do that in school I would be chucked out of class. But life had changed for the good better. I was a free bird. I had a bunch of like-minded friends, but my favourites were Asad, Ritu and Yash. We'd go for parties, swimming, gyming, movies etc .It was divine. Our college was very lively, with various activities and this time it came up with the most happening thing- something that could conjure fire in my heart and shine in my eyes. A cricket match was organised between the two strongest teams of Maharashtra. I had no second thoughts about it. It was a big yes.  I was sitting in the stadium with my pals cheering loudly while I sat silently having my eyes focused in only one direction. I was so glad to be there, to feel the bug of cricket again. I felt so nostalgic.  Something between me and cricket hadn’t got over yet. It was a sudden break away. It had been over 5 years but it still took me back in my thoughts.   Good times flew. Within no time I was giving the exam for MBBS and even had qualified for it. My parents had to finally agree that I wasn’t useless and had done something in my life and I wasn’t only a spoilt brat like they said when I was 12 years old. That boy within me had died. I wore Salwaar Kameez, doctor’s coat, hair neatly in a bun and face nicely foundationed. My mirror was also not willing to believe that it was me.

 "Buzz" my phone rang. "Hello, Asmita? What’s wrong?" I asked.

 "Mahika, you need to come home fast, my father is having a heart problem...we have called for an ambulance. You also please come. It’s an emergency" Asmita panicked.

 I cut the call and rushed to her house in my silver SUV. It was sad.  Her father was admitted in the hospital because of coronary heart disease that is the blockage of blood vessels due to extra cholesterol in the body. It’s funny how one day you are absolutely fine thinking on what to wear or what to cook and then you are in the ICU! Life twists and turns so fast. It is so unpredictable yet it carries on.

 My life was so ordinary. I had my school days, college memories and now I was going to share my life with someone else. I had hated this day right from time I came to know the meaning of it- marriage. I had seen people cry, complain and curse because of it. Back then, I always thought to remain 10 years old as long as I live! But the ugly truth called for something else. Everything felt like it was on an extra fast mode of a DVD player. I hardly remember learning how to walk, and today it was my wedding! I was too judgemental. My marriage actually gave a definite shape to me. Rohit was just like me. We had so many things in common, plus he was a doctor too. He was a friend to me. What I loved the most about him was that he was a national level cricket player. Every evening we would play cricket. I was reliving my incomplete days, establishing my ties with cricket once again.  The smallest of things leads to the greatest the beauty of life. They seem stupid, idiotic and immature like for instance cricket and me, but they land up being the colour of life. Who would have known that learning how to hold the bat could have shaped my future and turned me into a successful woman. Even though I didn’t achieve anything by whining to play cricket 3 months before my board exams, every morning I still play this game with my 7 year old son and 3 year old daughter.

 They complete my dream.

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