The second part of the trilogy 'AN EXPLORER'S PARADISE' :

THE WOODS 

                                 Photo source: Pinterest

As the unannounced invader beat against the window, Karthik and Dhruv searched for their seats amongst the crowd pouring in and out. The crammed up space seemed to be empty as the passengers left the room, yet their seats weren't to be found anywhere. 

“Uncle, did you not book your ticket?” Dhruv asked, scratching his head. 

“I did, and don’t call me uncle. It makes me feel old, and I ain’t that old. Besides, I have a ticket. Where is yours?” 

“I thought you booked them!” he yelled. 

“We met thirty minutes ago! How would I have possibly booked two tickets for a single passenger?” Karthik laughed. 

“Great, now I am going to get a fine.”

“Relax. The train won’t leave for another ten minutes. Run up to the counter and get one, bribe them if they won’t let you.” 

“Good idea,” he said, as he ran out the door. It was the ultimate fool proof plan for any traveller in India. First request, then plead and at last, offer some money. 

The faded letters on the seat resembled the numbers on Karthik’s ticket. He dusted off the grill above him and placed his bag, waiting for the minion to arrive. He saw a silhouette approach him, and now he could see him clearly, drenched in the rain. “Did you get your ticket?” 

“Ticket price and a thousand bucks. This is why this land will never grow,” the spirited youth in him spoke. 

   

                                                    ****

“So, where is this explorer’s paradise?”  Dhruv asked. The empty streets of Assam accompanied by the Golgappa vendors looked beautiful under the night sky. 

“Only one way to find out, by exploring.” 

“So you are going to explore the whole of Assam?” 

“No, we will ask the street vendors and the people here. They must know something.”

“Then why don’t you search the internet?”

“You sure does ask a lot of questions,” Karthik grinned. “See, in the internet if you search something, images of the place start popping up. And I don’t want to see that. I want the sight of the woods to take my breath away.” 

“What if there are wild animals?” Dhruv asked. 

“We are wild enough.” 

“What if they chase us?”

“We run.”

“What if they kill us?” 

“We die,” he laughed again. “I am intrigued by your questions. Is this what your kind of people do?” 

“We generally ask Google all the questions.”

“Are you satisfied with the answer you get?”
“Of course,” Dhruv exclaimed. 

“Let me ask you a question. Which is the best way to be happy? I’ll give you ten minutes to Google it and tell me the answer.” 

“Sure.” He started fiddling on his phone, as the elder man explored the streets bathed in moonlight. 

While Karthik checked into a room for his night crash, Dhruv stayed in the lobby, searching for the answer. 

“Time is up. Now tell me honestly, did you find an answer that was satisfying to you?” 

“Yes, I can be happy by travelling.” 

“Mhm, so you are travelling, someone stole all your money and you have no place to stay and you are swarmed by mosquitoes. Will you be happy?” 

“Umm..” 

“I thought so too. See, what there is on the internet is not always the answer you are looking for. You have to experience it to find the answer.”

“I get your point, but do you know the answer?”

“I am still trying to find out, offline of course.” 

“When do we sail the ship?” 

“Seven in the morning. Goodnight kid.” 

                                                                                             ***

The morning glow wasn’t bright, nor was the light in Dhruv’s eyes. As his eyes half opened while climbing the hills, Karthik tracked the path with marks, so they could return the next day without getting lost. The half grown grass and the full grown men chased the hill, looking for the prettiest spot in the hill. 

“Are you all kids lazy in the morning?” Karthik asked, eyeing the tired Dhruv. “It is seven thirty and you are not even breathing properly. You should know that I am not carrying an oxygen tank.” 

“I am starting to get used to the elder men’s life. Don’t judge me on being slow.” 

“You better learn fast, because in about an hour, we will be climbing higher.” 

Hollow Cove’s ‘The Woods’ played on the speaker as they went up. For the each beat, they took a new step, and the sun took a step down. The hope in finding the woods seemed to be fading as there were no trees, only bushes where no one dared to hide. Karthik’s nightmare was beginning to take shape. 

“What is your worst nightmare?” he asked Dhruv, who was busy untangling his earphones. 

“Um, the fear of losing a job?” 

“Is that a question or an answer?”

“I don’t know. I don’t fear much in particular. I know it sounds fake, but I never had lost anything in life.”

“Not even a girlfriend?” Karthik smiled. 

“No, because I never had one. What about you? Where is your family?”

“I never got married.”

“Fear of commitment?”

“No, the joy of being a loner hooked me up. The single path has so many routes. I could die the next second, and no one would know.” 

“What about the thrill of leaving a mark on the earth?” 

“We all leave a mark on the earth when we are born. Everyday we leave a mark, maybe not on the road, not on the hills. I might have helped someone in need, and must have left a mark there.”

“I see,” he replied, being entertained by a wise man’s words. “Speaking of which, I think we are lost. And we have found the woods.”

Photography: F.S. 

“Oh wow,” Karthik gasped, as his eyes laid on the sight before him. The tall trees colouring the sky green, and the dark mist covering their eyes. The rustle of them were so quiet and eerie, he believed they were the only one around the woods. The explorer’s paradise he was looking for could be this, unless he found something more prettier, more wider, more miles to explore. But for all he knew in that exact moment, with a boy with the will to be inspired, this was his paradise. The explorer in him joyed, as the human in him worried. 

“What do we do know?” Dhruv asked, eyeing the empty path that ended a few feet away. 

“We camp. And we return tomorrow.”

“Aren’t you scared?” 

“No,” Karthik smiled. “The most dangerous creature in this place are us now. We have invaded the secret paradise of the animals. And this place will remain a secret between us.”

Karthik and Dhruv, each other’s hands on the other’s shoulder, enjoyed the view before them, as the band sang, “And we all sit around the fire, we feel so much better now.” 

The third trilogy from F.S. Enjoy story number one as we bring you the next one, next week.

Photography: Kevin Sreenath 

THE RIGHT TRACK

It was a dream of his to find the explorer’s paradise. It was all he lived for. Working for 30 years in a company he had no interest in was to earn the interest offered by the bank for the huge sum he deposited at the end of the month. Travelling back and forth on trains, rickshaws and cycles, all he wanted to find was that paradise that wasn't listed on the internet. A computer technician then, and all the technical skill he needed now was the ability to photoshop. 

The station was busy with its regular schedule of late trains and homeless men. As he sat back on the cold steel chair whose only intention was to make banking suffer, the one thing that caught his attention were the two class of people. One: Willing to work in anyway possible by lending out magazines, a hot cup of chai and magazines; two: trying to find a job, desperately failing everyday and making them beg for a day’s meal. Of all the stations and all the stands, this sight was familiar. And with that familiarity came a worry of him foreseeing his future. Would that be him? Was the plan he has been carrying since the day he started dreaming a fatal one? 

The distant blare of the horn was now clear. As the crowd shuffled to the edge of the platform, where the wind from the moving bogeys would sweep them away, only one person stood back. A boy with freckles on his cheek and shabby hair. A boy with fear in his eyes. A regular boy.

                                                                                     __________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“You are not going to make it in the world alone!” Papa’s voice was clear and loud to Dhruv. Yet, he held onto the hope of escaping. 

“Just two weeks Papa! I just need a break from all these!” he yelled, showing him the binder folders with notes and interview sheets. 

“You are not going anywhere young man,” the military commander in him woke. “You are staying put, and you are going for the interview.”

“But the interview is two months away! I have been busting off day and night for months. I swear I am going alone; no friends, nothing. Just two weeks. Please!

All that awaited him was the sound of the lock turning as his father stepped out of the room. The commander has spoken. Now it was the duty of the soldier to break the rules for his own sake. 

                                                                                     __________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Three trains have come and passed, but he and the boy stayed put. Awkward glances were shared in between, but none of them spoke. It was the number one rule we were all taught: never speak to strangers. The fifty year old and the twenty five year old abided to the rules, until the little soldier in him became a rebel. 

Dhruv walked to the chair the man in a brown torso and black t-shirt was sitting on. Two empty seats beside him, and Dhruv chose the one in the end, maintaining a distance. 

“Hello,” the man spoke up. He replied in a nod. “Where are you off to?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Thought so, you don’t seem to have enough baggage and you seemed terrified. I am Karthik, by the way.”

“Dhruv,” he said as he nodded, acknowledging his words. “Where are you off to?” 

“In search of the woods. I am starting in Assam.”

“You could just search in google,” Dhruv said, taking out his phone. “I could do that for…”

“Don’t bother, I am looking for one that is not listed in there. An explorer’s paradise is what I’d like to call it.”

“You sound like you travel a lot.”

“All that you can explore is all that is there. All that is there is for you to explore, to wander, to create.” 

“Whose words?” Dhruv asked, impressed. 

“A wanderer’s,” Karthik smiled. “I have told you my part of story. Let me hear yours!”

 “It’s the story of every twenty year old’s. The world is ready for us to conquer it, but our swords are yet to be sharpened. I needed a break from all the knots, so I took off from home to… travel, I guess.” 

“You sound like an explorer. A traveller without a destination,” Karthik began. “Conquer them with thoughts, not weapons.”

“But my Papa believes in weapons. He used to be in the army.” 

“True army man,” Karthik smiled. “What you see when you travel, it is something that has not been scripted in any textbooks. It has to be felt, not taught. Yet, we are bound by shackles of hopes. Break them when you can. I spent all my age earning so that I could travel, and here I am sitting next to a dreamer, waiting for my next train to come. And this all happened because I kept a reality check. Although, I don’t blame you for what you are doing now. Everyone deserves a break.” 

Dhruv let the words sink in, as he saw the next train approaching. 

“That’s my ride,” Karthik stood up. “And since you don’t have a destination, you can come with me if you don’t mind travelling with a stranger.”

Dhruv stood up with him, checking his wallet with little money and no luggage. “Are you sure?” 

“Why not? An explorer’s paradise is to be explored by many, not just one. We could be the beginners!” 

“And maybe, a twenty five year old and a fifty year old can make history,” Dhruv spoke up. 

“This is why I like young people. They can find spark in the rain.”

HELLO, CONSCIENCE!

It wasn’t a writer’s block, because writer’s block affected those who had a greater sense of imagination. What I liked to call it was ‘immense procrastination’. It wasn’t that I had nothing to write. I had a dozen records to complete, home assignments to look at and a blog that was left out. 

Thursday nights used to be a dream, and now a nightmare. A blog that hasn’t been updated for a while, notes that has to be submitted… and yet, every Thursday night I sat in front of a computer with Microsoft Word open; letting the cursor blink at me. ‘Time to procrastinate,’ my brain said. 

‘Oh, a new story idea. I should probably write it down,’ my mind said but all I could see was a fly dancing around in my room, buzzing in my ears. I’d try to let it go, but then it became a race between mankind and flies; and I, the only warrior. I knew it was time to get the fly-killer bat. 

Holding it in one hand and a story in my brain, I waited patiently and procrastinated, waiting for my arch enemy to arrive. “For the love of God, will you just write down the story in your head?” I heard a voice speak. I knew it wasn’t from anyone that I knew in the house because the only people that stayed up till midnight was me to watch the rerun of a TV series I have watched for so many times that I have lost count. 

“Who’s speaking?” I asked. 

“Your conscience,” the voice laughed. “Who else would have a charming voice?” 

“I thought I killed you with my sense of stupidity,” I told the voice. “What should I call you?” 

“Call me whatever you want,” the voice spoke again. “You can call me Kicha, it’s what I prefer.” 

“Okay Kicha, what can I do to get rid of you?”

“Write that story down. Stop procrastinating.” 

“You sound like an obsessive stalker. How long have you been following me around?”

“All along, dear.”

“Well, why are you talking to me now?” 

“Because I am bored up here. All you do is think about what to write and how to not write. It used to be fun here with all the cliffhangers. There is nothing new.”

“I like to think about what could happen next. That’s kind of why I never write…”

“Oh please!” Kicha yelled. “You are not writing because you are lazy twenty four hours a day, seven days a week!”

“This is starting to get annoying.”

“Well now you know how I feel up here. Really, you need to talk to someone.”

“How about I talk to you?”

“Fair enough. What do you want to talk about?”

“Getting you out of my head tops the list. Can you give me some ideas on that?”  

“Um, no. But I can give you advice on other matters that concern you. Like, your future?”

“What about it?”

“You are scared aren't you? About who you will become?”

“Everyone is scared of that!”

“But you don’t understand that someday what all you write will come to use. It is okay to get confused, but you shouldn’t let it get to you.”

“Like how I let you in?” The conscience never replied. It just left a half smile, and left. To the depth of my brain were nothing much resided. 

The cursor blinked again, so did I. My conscience was a better person than myself. Maybe it was, for everyone out there. 

The cursor blinked again. And this time, I wrote what was in my mind. A conversation with Kicha. 

CITY OF LIGHTS

“When do you want to go to the fair?” Aaron asked, looking through the class schedule.

“How about now? We are free, and there won’t be much people around.”

“That’s because it’s noon and people get sunburnt. Where is the fun without a crowd?”

“We’ll bring a crowd with us, right? Your friends and mine, we can go together.”

“Oh, I get it,” Aaron laughed. “You are scared of crowds and now you want to maintain a low profile by going to a fully exposed stadium with no people.” 

“I am not coming in the evening,” I replied, pretending to be texting. “I have a meeting with someone.” 

“You have a meeting with your phone’s wallpaper,” he said as he snatched my phone and looked at the screen. “Meet us by the entrance at seven, and if you don’t show up then you’ll see what awaits you tomorrow in class.”

Seeing a crowd scattered under a stream of decoration lights in the dark sent a chill up my spine. Is he staring at me? Is she staring at me? Why is that old woman talking to someone while looking at me? Am I doing something wrong again? 

“Sid, over here!” Aaron called out, holding a stick of purple cotton candy. I could see his weird tongue all purple now. “Isn’t this great?!’ he yelled through the loud crowd. “Everyone’s here! And we got tickets!” 

“No no…” As I started replying, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into another bunch of sweaty people with no sense of perfume. At least, they could’ve showered. “I am not getting on any rides!” I yelled, but he seemed to not acknowledge that. 

“Cool shirt, Sid,” Daya yelled out. Everyone was yelling around like a bunch of maniac, while I stood terrified in front of the rides. Why is that girl looking at me? Do I know her?

“You should know, Sid hates crowds.” Aaron was introducing me to the group. “So, to avoid his fear, how about we all get on some rides?”

“No rides,” I told him. “I hate heights too.” 

“Damn, what are you not scared of?” 

“Closed spaces and being alone? I am not getting on that thing!” I said, pointing at a ride swinging back and forth with people screaming like they were being treated at an asylum. 

“You are getting on that ride with us,” Daya spoke up. 

“No. I am not.” 

“Yes, you are.” 

“No, I am not.”

“This could go on forever,” Aaron interrupted. “Either you get on the ride with us, or you’ll stay here with all these strangers alone. So, choose.”

“Is neither an option?” 

“No.”

“Fine, I’ll get in the ride.” 

Scientists, or my Biology text, says that our body responds to the signals sent by the nerves, and those messages are mostly chemical. Maybe what I said was chemical, because my body has started to sweat like’ve been given the news that I am being taken to the most busiest place in the world. Moreover, I was wearing a red shirt. It’ll be transparent in a few minutes, I told myself. 

We stood by the queue, and I was getting more attention by the second because this was my neighbourhood and most people knew me since I wandered around pretty much everywhere everyday. They were waving, they were smiling, and some were approaching for small talks; and all my brain could do was give me the alert ‘PANICK!’ It was in that moment when I realised my brain will never obey me. 

“Uh-oh,” Aaron murmured. 

“Uh-oh what?” I asked him. 

“Um… Our group is odd numbered, but the seating is even numbered; two to be precise. That means…”

“You’ll sit with me. Problem solved!” 

“And let Daya sit alone with some stranger guy? Nah-uh!” 

“You’d rather make me sit with some random stranger?!” 

“You are a man! Grow some courage!” 

“This is not the time for argument,” Daya butted in. “I am not sitting with random strangers, neither are you. You can sit with Dhwani.”

“Dhwani who?” 

“Dhwani her,” Daya said as she pointed at a girl behind me. “She’s a friend of mine and has more courage than you. That will maintain an equilibrium.” 

“Then why don’t you sit with her?!” 

“Oh, you see,” the girl behind me started talking. “She likes your friend and is planning to tell him while they knock us out in the ride.”

“Seriously?” 

“Yes.” 

“This is dumb.”

“Um, that’s what I said. But she thinks it is huge. I’m Dhwani by the way.” 

“Sid,” I said, extending my hand for a shake.  “Well, this ought to be fun.”

“You guys are next,” the guard said, throwing us into the ride. Applying my little knowledge in how a ride works by learning their functions in Roller Coaster Tycoon III, I chose the seat which was low profile and less prone to danger if the whole thing exploded. 

“You sweat a lot. Do you have hyperhidrosis?” 

“No, I sweat only when I am nervous and scared together. I am handsome in the normal case.”

“Why are you nervous, it’s just a kid’s ride.”

“I suppose you haven’t seen Final Destination Three. See, these rides are poorly constructed without any safety features. There is not even an ambulance waiting out if all hell break lose.” 

I expected her to laugh at my logic, when I realised she was taking it rather seriously. 

“Wow, you think about this a lot, don’t you?” she asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Think of this way, if this doesn’t break then wouldn’t you be having a great time?”

“Technically, yes. But…” 

“And you came here to have fun with your friends I hope. Besides, the best way to get over your fear is by facing them. Conquer your fears. And if you get scared a lot, just close your eyes; you won’t feel much impact then.” 

And all hell broke lose. All the forces ever explained by any scientist came to play in a single ride. Being thrown and taken back would be wonderful for a homeless child; but this felt scary. And that felt good. 

“It’s true what they say,” Daya said as she walked out the exit. “Shaking a cloth helps to dry it off.”

“Which ride are we getting on next?” I asked them. Two laughter and a smile separated from the crowd of yellers. 

“How about the Octopus?” Dhwani asked. 

“Sounds good.”

ASHES

Shattered flaws stitched in places
Where the monster sleeps within.
All the lies we built, they take us
To the time, the beginning.

Of all the hatred we bore, they take us
To the cage we built for ages.
On the bars, there are the traces
Of all the stain of curses.

The flames we set, they take us down
To a place we longed to be erased
The tomb of love, they burn to ashes

They tear down all the trances. 

Taken out like a shot down bird, 

Farewell! Dear nightmare. 

Of all the burns that we bury now

You're the one I've buried within. 

NOT JUST A BLUE SKY

Just a bright blue spot in a dark space, is what I thought planet Earth was in this vast expanse of what is called, the ‘Universe’. Now, it isn’t anymore in the eyes of a child who saw a live video of Earth from Space by NASA. And I was blown away, not by the calmness of the background score, not by how huge it is, but by the sight of a blue sphere smeared with white clouds, where almost eight billion hearts beat.

Longer I stare, longer I feel calm. A bundle of clouds floating away slowly resembles a flock of sheep chasing each other on a place filled with snow. By each passing second, by each passing dimension, is a new view which one can never forget. Of all the planets in this galaxy, of all the asteroids, meteors and whatever maybe out there, ours is the only world where there are people, filled with thoughts and emotions. A view from the space reminds those out there, if any, that this world is a peaceful place. This world is a place where the leaves rustle without any fear, where every human being love one another, where every organism ever found by the mankind is having a good warm day. But in truth, amidst all the calmness and kindness is a world of rage and hatred. And what do we fight for? To exist as the only human beings in the only planet where life sustains in this galaxy? Is anybody out there who would like to come and help us and make us believe that it is a beautiful world? As we shut our eyes, we see darkness but we believe it is the light that holds us together. Only when we open our eyes will we ever realise there is nothing to fight for, but only to love each other, being kind to one another.

Eight billion hearts beat every second in this world, few with fear and few with happiness. In a world where everything is meant to be brighter, why welcome the fear when we can wipe it away with a brave smile on the face? Breathe everyone, and fight all the negative instincts. 

SEVENTY YEARS 

The first day I saw all the medals arranged neatly on the mahogany shelf, I wondered whose they were. The hometown was distant and a myth for my little brain, but the sight of it lulled me into a land of wild imaginations. The stories that died here, the smallest mischief, the greatest mishaps. The mightiest man in the village with the thickest moustache had a story to tell. It was the glory of the hometown. It was the story, always.

The only trophies I had earned was lip-syncing to a group song; stand aside a dance group, shyly shaking my hands and legs while others committed to it. Looking at it even know after lord knows how long brings the largest brightest smile on  my face, thinking about the things that had to be done to win as much trophies as there were in the mahogany shelf.

“It was your Grandpa’s,” my mother told me that day, putting her hand on the hopeful son. “He fought for our country’s freedom a long time ago.”

Before that day, my dream was to become a truck driver; but that day set off a new path. What he earned was to be kept safe, to be never let go of. In his album, he looked sharp in his uniform, the upper part of his lips lonely and his head shaved off like a barren land. In his eyes, a light that set me free; in his posture, a dream set to motion. From that day, playing shooting games turned from a hobby to a passion; solving puzzles turned from a dead game to the top of the list.

Now, the train is moving many miles per hour. Each passing tree reminds me of the days I never spent in my home, in my room. Then I see the smile on people’s face, the calmness reflected on their face. Their days rejoiced with happiness, freedom and of course, a story. “Remember the time...” said one, while another said, “I miss being in...” For all I knew, what I missed was home, where a soldier was born.

The train halts at a station, and soon enough kids rush by the window holding the plastic cut-outs of national flag. The new born ones are attracted to the orange, white and green sections with a blue wheel at the center, while those who learnt about the struggles and sacrifices hush them away while muttering about their disturbance. The siren howls again, and the little men run back to their positions like trained soldiers, waiting for the next train to approach; waiting for the next batch to hush them away.

I divert my eyes from them and to the fellow passengers, the ones holding their smartphones upright to their face. Their eyes reflect the colour of the nation’s flag, and I realise, they are forwarding their wishes to their friends by means of social media.