BEFORE THE SUMMER
Thanks to Achyuth for this beautiful title. Like this story, this title has so many meanings. Hope you, my dear reader, will figure it out. Enjoy.
Danyal splashed some
more paint on his canvas. He stopped for a moment and stepped away from his
work, holding a paint brush in one hand and a mug of coffee in other. He let
his imagination wander to the wilderness of his mind. ‘What am I feeling?’ he
asked himself. Not romantic, not fear, not lonely. Was it regret?
He stared at the painting for some more time. Then he looked
at the stack of pamphlets that had college details. His father wanted him to be
an architect.
“What will I do when there is no more place to build?” Danyal
had asked his father a week ago.
“What nosense! Rajesh’s son is an architect and he is living
happily with money in his pocket!” Danyal’s father had shouted that night.
“Rajesh’s son is doing what he likes Pa! I love painting!”
Danyal remembered the words he said that horrible day. His father had turned
his back and walked away like he always did.
Anger. That was what he was feeling. He dipped his paint on
black, thrashing out the anger in his mind and putting it onto his work. Then,
like a mother patting her baby, Danyal caressed the brush at the end of the
canvas, signing his name.
Danyal took his new artwork and placed it in his secret
gallery. His room was big and he had asked his father last year to install a
small room within his room for his closet. But he made it his gallery, locking
it up every night and keeping the key under his pillow where he slept safe and
sound.
“Is this art?!” Danyal’s father, Hameed, asked him when he
saw the gallery for the first time. “This is not art! This is pure waste of
money!” Hameed said as he unhooked each canvas and poured over some kerosene
over it. In a flash of second, history was crumpled into ashes. That day,
Danyal cried until blood came pouring out. Next day, he didn’t sleep, instead
stayed up all night painting his anger out.
Danyal sat on his bed for a moment, looking at his fingers
that still had paint on it. He loved it, and embraced every moment he had
whenever he was alone or was painting. The clock on the bedpost read 3:30am and
Danyal didn’t care about it. Day comes, day goes, but not a day goes without it
screwing you.
He felt his phone vibrate on his bed. It showed Anjana
Krishnan’s name with her photo. A tan girl with eyes as brown as brown could be
and black hair framed her face just right.
He picked up the phone with such a care that only he could gave, and
answered.
“It’s 3:30. Aren’t you tucked in with your laptop and a
stack of books?” Danyal asked.
“I am tucked in,” Anjana said with a smile that he could
feel even through a gadget. “Why aren’t you asleep?”
“I just completed another one,” Danyal said.
“Elaborate?”
“It’s a painting of a boy sitting on his lawn... at the
midst of night. He’s gazing far... as if he is... you know, waiting for someone
or something.”
“Sleepless Nights.”
“Sounds perfect,” Danyal said, hearing the title of his new
work that will be seen by nobody except him and his friends. “So, what did you
write?”
“The usual short stories. The ones with a terrible
fate that I might face some day. I called this one ‘A Pitiful Destiny’.”
“That sounds pitiful,” Danyal joked. “Will I be honoured
enough to get a glance of those words?”
“See the whole one in your inbox Dan,” Anjana said. “I sent
you a copy thirty minutes ago. I didn’t get a reply, that’s why I called.”
“This is going to be a sleepless night for me then,” Danyal
said, smiling. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
The room went silent, except for the sound of Danyal’s heart
beating, each beat eager for the words of his beloved. Anjana and Danyal have
been together for two years and their parents disapproved of it not because
they hated the idea, but because Anjana's parents hated the fact that Danyal
wasn't of their same religion. Danyal’s parents hated the fact that Anjana
wasn’t white like the girls in the commercials. Danyal admitted. Anjana wasn’t
one of the girls in the commercials. She isn't fake and she speaks only the
truth.
His eyes pondered among the lines that had a new spark in
each word. His eyes scanned the monitor, looking for the story that was behind
it, and he knew he was so close to knowing it. At the end, he realised that the
protagonist was her and the destiny that is pitiful, is also hers. Danyal
wanted to grab his coat and his motorcycle keys and scram through the crowd to
hold her hand and tell her that the destiny she believes she has is fake and
there is something more that is waiting for her.
Danyal wanted to do it, but the problem was his father
Hameed. He knew that his father’s eyes would flare up with rage and burn the
house down. Hameed loved playing with fire, or maybe he was the fire.
As he rested on a corner of his bed, he tried to forget
everything and go for a long sleep where his dreams were peaceful and warm. But
the story came back to his mind, oh how hard it would've been to find the
perfect word to show her emotion. With his mind, his sleep too wandered away.
****
The sleep that Danyal chased for hours was disturbed by his
little brother, who knocked at the door at first, then pounded on it. After
sometime, Danyal opened the door and all he could hear was his little brother
scream “Danny is in trouble! Danny is in trouble!” Danyal didn’t care for he
knew that his father had gone for work where he would fight with his employees
and scare away the customers.
The cold floor of the shower made Danyal realise that a new
day has come. He didn’t have anywhere to go as he hasn’t chosen where to apply
for a degree that he didn’t care about. The hot water ran smoothly through his
thick black short curly hair and back to the spine that never failed to stand
up straight. He then put on a black polo t shirt and blue faded jeans. He had
to wash the newly bought jeans 5 times to make its colour fade.
“I saw light in your room at 4. What were you doing?”
Danyal’s mother, Nadiya, asked him as he sat down for his breakfast. Nadiya
tossed some vellayappam to his plate and some vegetable curry.
“Painting,” Danyal said as he munched on his breakfast.
“At 4?”
“Yeah, I completed by 3 30, then read a story and then went
to sleep,” Danyal said, standing up from the counter where he was eating and
washed his mouth. “I’m going out.”
“Only one vellayappam? What, is it not good?” Nadiya asked,
tearing a piece from the one she made.
“It’s good, but I’m not hungry. I have some work to do.”
“Where are you going?”
“At Casa,” Danyal said, climbing up the flight of stairs to
his room. He found his backpack ready with a box of paint, some chocolate bar,
6 cans of 7 up and his headset.
“I’ll be back by evening ma,” Danyal said, giving his mother
a warm hug.
“If your father finds about the casa, then you know what is
going to happen. So just be safe and keep contact with me,” Nadiya said,
patting her son’s back with love and affection.
Danyal loved his mom. Nadiya supported his artwork and had
always said to follow what he likes to do. She even approved of Anjana, saying
that her looks or her religion doesn’t matter, the reason why he loves her
matters. Casa was a secret hideout where Danyal and his friends hung out every
weekend. It was basically a marquee which had everything they wanted.
Danyal sat on his motorcycle for a moment, the one Hameed
bought him when he turned nineteen. It was just a year ago, the same year he
dropped out from CET. Something was bothering his mind that made him go
somewhere else before he went to casa. He knew what was holding up his mind, it
was the pitiful story that Anjana sent him. He wanted to talk to her about it,
and moreover tell her that her life won’t end like the one in her story.
Danyal took his cell phone from his pocket and texted
Anjana, asking her to meet him at Strangers’ Park, where they first met.
Danyal rode his motorcycle to Strangers’ Park, reminiscing
on the moment when he met Anjana Krishnan for the first time in his life.
2012, CHANGING SCALES OF LIFE
“What are you painting Danny?” Neha asked him, seeing him
going bonkers over his drawing book.
“I have no idea!” Danyal said laughing, still trying to
figure out what he was doing.
“That seems legit,” David said. David, Neha, Ag and Rob were
Danyal’s best friends.
“So the chord goes from here,” Rob said, strumming his
guitar. “And to here,” he said, playing another note. The group were having a
quite sunny evening at a round table on Strangers’ Park, which seemed strange
to strangers. “So it goes like this,” Rob said, playing a music which gave more
ideas for Danyal to paint.
“The G-sharp tone needs to go a bit more higher,” a stranger
told Rob. Rob lifted his eyes from the guitar and saw a girl in her late teens,
wearing a grey t shirt and blue jeans. Rob raised the note higher to see her
reaction. “Now that’s more like it,” she said smiling.
“You play music?” Rob asked.
“No, but I listen to music,” the stranger said. “I’m Anjana
Krishnan,” she extended her hand for a shake.
“Robert Jones,” Rob said, giving her hand a shake. “This is
Neha,” Rob pointed his finger to a girl with dark hair who looked like the
younger one. “She plays guitar too. And this is Ag,” Rob said pointing to a
girl in front of a wireless piano, who was inscribing something on a
notebook. “She plays piano and sings.
And this is Danyal. He’s an artist,” Rob said, pointing at a mad man going
crazy over a book.
“Nice meeting you all,” Anjana said, taking a seat nearby.
“So you guys play a lot?”
“Just covers,” Neha said. “We don’t have any lyricist... so
yeah. Anyway, what do you do?”
“I write a lot, but I’m applying for some dumb course in
some dull university.”
“Wait...” Ag said. “You write? Like lyrics and poem?” Anjana
nodded. “You could join with us, and write some music and we could play it.”
“That sounds fun,” Anjana said. Danyal finally completed his
work and looked up from his book to see who the new girl was.
“Sorry about that. Danyal Hameed,” Danyal said extending his
hand.
“It’s fine. Nice meeting you
too,” Anjana said smiling. Danyal saw something in Anjana, something only he
could see. He saw pain in her eyes, pain due to a loss of dream or a beloved.
And from that moment, Danyal’s heart beat not only for him, but also for the
girl who he met at Strangers’ Park.
“Hey,” Anjana said, seeing Danyal sitting on the same bench where
his eyes first met hers. “Why here? I thought we were meeting at the casa.”
“I needed to talk to you about the story you sent me last
night,” Danyal said.
“What’s with it? Grammatical errors?” Anjana asked, taking a
seat nearby.
“Me pointing out grammatical errors will be like me pointing
out flaws in a Van Gogh painting,” Danyal said smiling. “You wrote about your
life in it, didn’t you?”
Anjana fell silent. How
did he figure that out? I changed all the character names, Anjana thought.
“I’ve known you long enough. The story was great. But you do
know that the end in the story is not how your life is going to end right?”
Danyal asked.
Anjana smiled. “Of course I know that, you idiot,” Anjana
lied. She knew how her life was going to end. Just like how her life ended in
her own story. Just like how great people predicted their own death. “Is that
why you asked me to come here Dan?”
“Yeah, I just... please, please don’t kill yourself and
leave me alone in this world.”
“I’ll think about it,” Anjana said. “Now let’s go to casa.
Neha and others are waiting there.”
That was it. Danyal knew Anjana didn’t want to talk about
it; otherwise she wouldn’t have changed the topic to casa. Danyal got on his
motorcycle and Anjana behind him.
****
“Hooch here has an amazing plan!” Rob announced as Anjana
and Danyal entered the casa. Rob was working on his guitar, playing tunes and
goofing around with electronic devices.
“What plan?” Danyal asked as he sat down on the couch.
“Hooch! Tell us about the plan!” Rob said, strumming his
guitar.
“First of, stop calling me Hooch,” David said, smacking
Rob’s head with a file. “And the plan is, we start a band.”
“Ah, brilliant,” Ag said. “Wait I’ve heard that plan
before... oh yes, Rob came with that plan last year!” She said, mocking David.
“I wouldn’t call what Rob said as a plan,” David said with a
serious tone. “That was just a statement. This is a plan. We have an artist, a
vocalist, a pianist, a guitarist and a lyricist.”
“And a stupidist if that is even a word,” Rob completed.
“It’s not a word,” Anjana said to Rob. “And what David is
saying is a plan.”
“Thank you,” David said, appreciating Anjana. “The artist
could make the album cover, lyricist here can write lyrics, vocalist and others
can make music, while I manage the band.”
“It could work,” Neha said. “We could upload videos on YouTube.
And then we can go live at some beach or street.”
“Although we are missing one factor...” Ag said.
“What factor?” David asked.
“Money.”
Everyone looked at Danyal all of a sudden. Danyal was rich,
so rich he could buy an entire mall within a flick of second.
“Done deal,” Danyal said smiling. The last thing he wanted
to do was ruin his friends’ dream.
“We start recording tomorrow,” David announced, picking up a
file and entering the data.
****
4 Months Later
“And for the finals...” Danyal said, holding the end of the
cloth over the canvas. “Beneath here lies history. Our band... The Caydens,”
Danyal said, removing the cloth in one swift motion under the dim yellow light
of Casa.
Everyone sat on the couch, looking at the canvas. They were
awestruck. Words turned to whispers, breaths turned into gasps, closed mouth
fell open. In front of them was a painting that would make the album a success.
The gang had been working day and night to make it a success. Their first
YouTube video became a major success with a half million viewers.
“This will be the banner for the live show too,” Danyal
announced.
“Am I dreaming? I am dreaming,” Rob said.
“Nah you aren’t,” David said rising. “Incredible work Dan.
Beyond words. It looks like miracle...”
“Thank you, I guess.”
“So we go live tomorrow, with the release of our new album,
Reminiscence. And the name of the band is finalised. It’s ‘Cayden’.”
A loud round of applause filled in the curves of Casa. Their
very first dream started in the casa, and it became a success in the casa. Casa
was no longer their second home. It became their only home.
“I’ll see you all at Taj tomorrow,” David said, reminding the
venue and time.
****
“And here, we have a new band that marked the history 3
months ago! The name itself says it all! Let’s give it up for... The Caydens!”
The crowd fell into applause. Loud of appreciation hit the
four corners of the Hall where the band was going to play their first ever live
programme.
Ag, Rob and Neha entered the stage that was set for a feast
of music. Ag sat behind the piano she
had always dreamed about. Rob patted the guitar that made him who he was. Neha
stood behind the microphone with her guitar on one hand, and love for audience
in other.
The stage became a floor for festival with music that spoke
nothing but truth itself, for there is nothing as great as truth.
“How are you?” Danyal asked Anjana, who was standing next to
him by the entrance of the stage, seeing their friends become famous and write
history.
“Never been better,” Anjana said with a smile. “I can look
at them for years and listen them play their music.”
“You are a part of it too, you know. They are singing your
words to the world.”
“Look at David,” Anjana said smiling again. David was
standing next to the other entrance, wearing tucked in crisp white shirt and a
headphone. “He looks like a real manager.”
“I told you. Your destiny isn’t pitiful,” Danyal said,
holding her hand as they stood next to each other.
“Maybe some people’s life story is pitiful,” Anjana said. But
ours isn’t, because we conquered our fate and fate itself is crying, looking at
us and seeing how happy we are. I mean Dan, look at this wonderful crowd. It’s
your dream come true. It’s Neha’s, David’s and Ag’s dream come true. My dream
is yet to be fulfilled.”
“What is that dream?” Danyal asked eagerly.
“You’ll see,” Anjana winked.
****
Call her again,” David urged Danyal. Something was wrong,
Danyal was sure of that. Anjana would always pick up her phone if it was
Danyal. Danyal remembered the conversation he had the night before. Maybe some people’s life story is pitiful, she
had said with a smile that touched Danyal’s heart. But ours isn’t, because we conquered our fate and fate itself is
crying, looking at us and seeing how happy we are. I mean Dan, look at this
wonderful crowd. It’s your dream come true. It’s Neha’s, David’s and Ag’s dream
come true. My dream is yet to be fulfilled.
Danyal tried calling her again, and there was no answer. Where in heaven is she! Danyal asked himself.
“Does anybody know what was the dream she was referring
to?!” Danyal yelled out of frustration.
“Danny she might be busy or something,” Neha said, moving
towards him, trying to calm him down.
“She always picks up! Maximum four rings and she would pick
up so that I could hear her voice say my name!” Danyal said, throwing his phone
at the wall, smashing it to pieces.
“Woa, Danny come on. Let’s go to Casa. Maybe she’s waiting
there for us and maybe she left her phone home,” Ag said, picking up her car
keys. Danyal reached out for his motorcycle’s key but David quickly swapped it.
“You’re going with Ag. I’ll ride your bike,” David said. “If
you ride, you will probably end up dead in the street.”
*******
The Casa seemed normal, and Anjana’s ride was outside.
Danyal saw the number plate and felt relief rushing through his body. He smiled
like a boy who had chocolate chip cookies. Danyal and the gang rushed inside
the casa to yell at Anjana for not taking her phone.
“Where is she?” Ag asked, looking inside the Casa and seeing
no one except for Anjana’s backpack.
“Her backpack is here,” Neha said, picking it up and leaving
it on the table.
“All right, you guys stay here. Ag and I are going to look
out. Maybe she’s down the river fetching some water,” David said, waving at Ag
to follow him.
Danyal ran his eyes around the casa and saw her bag. He
gently opened it and saw a huge folder.
“What’s in that?” Neha asked, sitting down on a chair.
“It’s..” Danyal stumbled on words. He knew what this folder
was. Anjana had mentioned this folder on ‘The Pitiful Destiny’. “It’s her
works... and the rejection letters.” Danyal kept wading through in the bag and
found a red diary. The diary in which Anjana wrote her most impressive works.
“Neha...” Danyal said, realising what was going to happen
next. His knees sank on the ground. He couldn’t stand straight up and he couldn’t
let his voice come out. Danyal opened the diary and pointed at the latest
entry.
“Read it for me...” Danyal asked Neha.
“Danny... it’s personal between you and her...”
“Please. I don’t wanna read. Just read it out for me..”
Danyal begged and handed the diary over to Neha.
20th Aug, 2014
23:16 hours
Dan,
From Strangers’ Park to The Casa. From being strangers to
being story tellers. Dan, if you are reading this, and if you ever read this, I
want you to know, that my love for you is eternal, and my eyes will be on you
even from hell or heaven. I still haven’t figured that one out.
Remember when I said that my dream is yet to be fulfilled?
That dream was me being with you, and us spending a life time of happiness and
weirdness. That realisation ran upon me yesterday, with another fascinating
fact, that it will never happen. I know I’m being a coward and being a bitch
for leaving you like this, but if I stick around longer, then you might lose
yourself.
The night at the concert will be a night that will be etched
on my heart. Our dreams came true that night. And with that came a great
responsibility to me, to tell the story to the world. I was just a mere story
teller that tapped on the keyboard only to express the emotions. And to hear
that emotions in fine tune... that might be the greatest gift I’ve ever
received.
My father found out the hidden stash of stories in my room
the night of the concert. His yell didn’t hurt me, his anger didn’t hurt me,
but his words did, his words of him blaming you, my dear Dan, for spoiling me and making me a writer. Me writing was my own decision. No one asked me to be a
writer, only they encouraged me to go on in life and to jump the fences of
difficulties. And now, I’ve reached the highest fence. The one that I cannot
jump.
He asked me to choose, between you and between literature. I
chose you Dan, I really did. But me without expressing my words is like a man
without a heart. It doesn’t exist, and it never will.
I’m stubborn and I will continue to be one. I’ll stick to
you and you only, Dan, but the wound will not be healed for it has reached my
soul and grabbed it away. Now I’m only a body, and my soul is with the monster
within me. And to kill that monster, the only way is to end myself.
Ag, Neha, David, Rob and Dan, I’ll miss you. I leave all the
works I’ve written in a folder. Arrange it to something beautiful like a chain
that one of you will present to your beloved. Don’t tell the world the story of
mine, tell the world the story of a girl who came close to her dream and then
turned away.
I don’t think I can go on, and this might be the last work I’ll ever write. Dan, don’t wait for me. Move on, and show the world what
you are and who you are. Paint the world with true spirits and show your rage,
love and anger through it. Maybe one day we’ll meet again, not in the Strangers’
Park on earth, but at some other park in hell or heaven. I still haven’t
figured that out.
Until we meet again
Anjana
“Dan! Dan!” David yelled outside the Casa. Danyal couldn’t
hear it. All he heard was the words Anjana spoke to him at the night of the
concert, where they held their hands together and admired their gang’s work.
Danyal could feel her hands on her shoulder, telling him that they will conquer
the world one day. Anjana didn’t conquer the world, she conquered Danyal. And
Danyal realised that now it’s his turn to conquer the world and tell everyone
the story of a girl, who came close to her dream and then turned away.
David, Ag and Rob came inside the casa. David had called Rob
when he found Anjana’s body, hanging down a tree near to the river.
Neha passed the letter to them and she ran outside the casa,
to shed tears for the friend she held close to her heart.
Danyal didn’t move. He sat on the plain ground, remembering
every moment he spent with Anjana Krishnan, the one that altered his life, the
one who made a boy who was in a trance to a young man who realised life.
Soon Ag, David and Rob left the Casa, leaving the letter on
the table. Danyal felt his hands on each sentence she wrote. A smile ran across
his lips, realising that life isn’t under his control, that he was just another
player of the universe. He understood what she was feeling. A feeling that yet
doesn’t have a name. A feeling that only she and him felt. A feeling that only
they will ever feel.
