Sunday, December 25, 2011

NOT JUST ANOTHER CHRISTMAS MUSING



Another year comes to an end, whether the year was good or bad is a matter of personal judgment. Monsoon gone, winter has shown its face, everyone is wearing the warmest of clothes; sweet delight is in the air, songs, shopping, candles and cakes, trees and lights, smiles and joys, the shops and homes are decorated, music fills the ears, carols and gift exchanges, and all the merriments that makes one feel that it is Christmas, but does it mean that the joyous spirit will end with the end of the festival for the festival is not merely about celebration.  When asked a child what she likes about Christmas, she glibly replied, “Holidays. It is indeed a gift, exams being over there are no homework tensions, though cold I am chirpy like a spring bird, I am busy buying new clothes and visiting friends and families.” Like most of the children, during Christmas the earth looked renewed, I use to feel as if there was not a single mean soul on this earth, everyone had smiles on their faces and the frowns were at bay. The enthusiasms lessened in my teenage years, I came to learn that different people have a different approach towards life, and everyone cannot be happy just because I was happy, Christmas was fun but all of it was not memorable.  Now, that I have grown older, the childhood enthusiasm has come back. Yet, I have estimated that the card, cake and the gift shops are making heavy profits, the price of the clothes begins to soar high, and the crowd in the shopping complexes thickens. I wonder whether we are forgetting what the festival is all about, for in the midst of commercialization of this festival we are far from the essence of Christmas.
I believe that this festival is about benevolence, not only about giving and receiving gifts but of love and forgiveness, about care and share. Christmas is also the time to introspect ourselves, and see the things for which we should thank the giver. Charles Dickens’ ‘A Christmas Carol’, was always a fantastic read for all those people who believe that Christmas is the time to open up hearts and reach out to the people in distress, and if we cannot help through monetary means than through words of encouragement or my giving a helping hand to those who are in extreme need of it. Let us not be an intolerable miser like Ebenezer Scrooge, who finds no delight in giving, until he is taken for the life-changing ride by the spirits.
Judging by the biggest Christmas tree, the most beautiful dress and the best gifts, I wonder from where all these competition came up. For I grew up listening that, “It does not matter what you are wearing, whether an ugly sweater or a branded jacket, for what matters is the heart”. Whatever it is the world has its own reasons. One thing for sure, I believe this festival is a time for forgiveness, and in those twelve months I know we have hurt people and in turn people have hurt us, but I have decided not to spend the day in bitter grudge, I am going to release all the pessimistic thoughts and for this I am finding ways to do so. 
Finally, the question is; Christmas will be over but will we be able to sustain the magic of it? I am miles away from my hometown however it does not mean that I will shut myself from the beauty of the festival; for stuck in the busy world, friends act like families, I have friends from other communities who have respect for all religion and with them I have jotted down my plans which I believe will work out. I believe that I will be able to sustain the magic of Christmas with my nearer and dearer ones encircling me with their love, friendship and benevolence. Merry Christmas!
  
                   
                                          

Friday, December 23, 2011

SUNSET LINES

I got a call, the caller said, "I stared at his tired eyes, for a moment I wanted to be drowned in that pool of sorrow. His hair is turning into grey day by day, and he looked thinner than yesterday, I wanted to hold his hand and ask him, "What ails you, my beloved?", but could not for I feared that I will be one of the reasons for his pain. I wanted to tell him that he was a cynic, wanted him to look at the first rainbow of next year, wanted him to know that whatever he thinks is not what it is, and that I was feeling bored. But, I could not for deep down inside I know that I am one of the reasons for his cold behaviour. I have to choose the words before I utter it, they might break him, they might build him strong, he has become just like a baby. I am scared that he has forgotten how great flights of seagulls were learned through several stumbles, I do not want him to give up loving, admiring and desiring me. He does look at me with the same affection, the spark that he had ignited still burns in my heart, but something is wrong, his coffee does not get cold as it use to be. 


He knows that I am allergic to garlic, he always made sure that the menu does not have the enemy in it. Today, he did not tell anything to the waitress, so I am down here with a swollen face. Did I expected so much from him? Maybe I did, I forgot that he was a human at the end of the day. We learned from our mistakes, but he hardly makes any mistakes, I am sure that deep down he has a progress report of my personality, maybe I have more red lines than distinctions. Oh! I am totally confused. I want him to love me more than this. He was always a good listener, but I feel that we are now worlds apart. He wants to talk about everything except us,  I got him, I want to keep him but it is like he has given up on me. I do not know where I went wrong, for he seems so right, and my love for him seems so perfect. I see love in his eyes, yes, it is a whole circle, it is not in part, I know he does love me. But, his actions just betrays what I see. I am drifting in this confusion...I want to get a solution for this." 

                                            Saying these she hung up the phone.

                                                                     



Sunday, December 18, 2011

SHE NEVER LEARNED





She faked a smile and deceived the world;
She killed a soul and thought all her problems are evaded,
She was cocksure that she can fool all her loved ones;
But look who is laughing at her, she failed to have the last laugh.


She never valued the emotions of the ones who hold her dear;
She thought that she was perfect, a princess and rest paupers,
She blamed everyone for the deeds she committed, to ask for forgiveness was never in her veins;
But, now all the fingers are on her...Poor girl, she will be so lonely in this cold wide world.




Thursday, December 15, 2011

THE DEEP SHITS OF LIFE


If your colleague got promotion and you do not, if you had a breakup on the same day when your best friend was proposed, if your Visa was rejected, if your hair is too curly for the party, if your cheque bounces back, if you meet your enemy number one in the street, if your iPhone is stolen,  if your marks are low, if the vegetable prices are high...etc...etc..these are not shits of life.....you are just having a bad day.

Deep shits of life are those shits which tears us down, and all we can do is say, "What a F****** life!" Shit is when your best friend is going to die within a month, shit is when you look at your unfaithful spouses' eye and realize that all this while you were with a B****** who acted as if he cared, shit is when you are discriminated against the very people who shouts for People's liberty, equality, right and justice, shit is when you are made to hate yourself, and shit is when we begin to doubt our abilities. And shit is when you are sold at the price fixed by people who do not know the value of respect and dignity, shit is when we start to hate the person whom we loved the most, shit is when untold misery triggers us, the cure of which is yet to find. Shit is when we have to take the side of one of the two camps, both of which equally disgusts you, yes! shit is when you are forced to do something under a gun point or worse than that, shit is when you find no pleasure in living, shit is when the game you have chosen was a trap, shit is when you have all the things in the life yet there is no pleasure in it, shit is when you do not have anyone to share your success. Shit is when you want to say so much but words do not come out because your power of speech is in someone's hand, shit is when you cannot overcome your fear, shit is when you realize on the wedding day of your ex-lover that you still love them, shit is when you see hopeless faces and all you can do is stare, shit is when your good deeds are misunderstood as hypocrisy, shit is when you get beating/thrashing for the acts you have not committed or the words you have not uttered. Shit is when your creative expression is suppressed for the sake of morality, shit is when you cry a tear and the tear becomes frozen....so frozen that it becomes hard as a tool, a tool that can pierce your own heart.

These are some of the shits of life. I know some, someone might know more. Good night!







Tuesday, December 13, 2011

FAMILY OF FRIENDS

I have not seen Heaven, I have not seen angels, I have not seen God, but I have known people who make the earth just like the Heaven above. I have a friend who always prays for me, and though we are miles apart; our friendship grows stronger day by day. I have a friend who is somewhere busy honeymooning, but I am always on her mind and every time she calls me up, she reminds me that marriage is such a lovely thing. I have a friend who is very angry with me for not helping her out with a task, but she will cool down very soon. I have a friend who always gave me freedom to do all the crazy things, now she is gone without a trace.....I miss her so badly. I have a friend who loves my writing and always encourages me to follow my heart. I have a friend who is always there for me whenever I need his help, God bless him. I have a friend who is simply a DIVA, we fight, we yell, but she forgives easily, she is simply adorable. I have a friend who is always confused with her love profile, she has always been my strength and she continues to so. 

I have a friend who is so tom-boyish that everyone thought she was my boyfriend, she is very cool, though. I have a friend who is so spiritual, she live, breath and exist by God's grace. I have a friend who is a real bookworm, she is very moody but really helpful. I have a friend who loves gossip, but whenever someone bitches about me she defends by saying," That's not true." I have a friend who reads my blog every day though he hates to read. I have a friend who is a great shopper, I love her sense of style, she has all the patience in the world. I have a friend who loves my cooking, who himself is a great cook. I have an optimist and a pessimist friend, one laughs at my jokes, other cries at my poem. I have a stingy friend, who always gives me miss call (worse is, she gives the excuse that my number was busy). I have friends who are working, I have friends who are rolling stones,  I have friends who are married, I have friends who are single, I have friends who are living, I have friends who are no more (they are now stars in the sky), I have friends of all types, I have friends who are worth calling friends. I have a friend, and her/his friend is my friend......and the circle of friendship grows more and more.

I have a friend who is so dear to my heart, and without that friend, my 'family of friends' will be so incomplete. Friend! 

Monday, December 12, 2011

WINTER THRILLS

he told me to write a note for her, I wrote it this way:

Never thought of falling in love, but Baby when you look at me, I cannot help, I cannot pretend, taking the easiest way out I am jotting down what I feel. There is an absolute restlessness in me tonight. I want to shoot the moon, kiss the stars, and beg the morning not to show its face. The winter coldness matters to me but not much, my dreams are coming true, I am winning the battle, I am learning to know myself better. I am skipping my meals, but God knows why weakness is at bay, maybe the mental strength is my catalyst. I have lots of works to do, but I am cool, time can wait as it always did.

I love the way you look at me- shy and smart, making sure that I do not catch you, you follow me like the cloud, but your eyes are like stars they show me what is inside of you. Little do I know you, but day by day I am guaranteed that this love is not a one-way traffic for I know that you too feel the same. If I am wrong then do not correct me, for I am happy in this illusion. Yes, I am happy, so happy. Here is the song that states my heart,

         Strange feeling I have known these few days,
         While awake or in deep slumber, I think of you.
         While in silence, or in crowd; I see you,
         While puffing a cigarette, or tossing a coin, I care for you.
          My whistle sounds interesting if it’s your name that I breathe,
          So, I conclude the age old sickness has hit me, I am in love. 

Sunday, December 11, 2011

HURT SONG



Baby, we fought  a million times, broken glasses and hearts;

 In my childishness and in your sanity, we found no common

ground,
 You wanted me to change, I had rocket expectations from you,
 Our start was so perfect, I wonder what went wrong.

 You said I am the one to be blamed, You are true;
 But if you did love me so much then why my sorry was never a sorry,
 You said I can never understand you, You are right,
 But if you did love me so much then why we're two souls, two lives.

 You told me that I was selfish, inhumane, you knew it better;
 Yes! I am all these, but this is the same soul which kept you mesmerized for so long,
 Every time you hold me I loss myself to you, and yet you say I always want to be the winner,
 And when you slammed the door in my face, I knew you hate to reconsider.

 You said I have left you bitter with garbage memories,
 If it is true, then guilty be me and the time;
 But for me loving you was never a mistake,
 I wish we could give it a try.

  
  





Friday, December 9, 2011

NO ONE CAN MAKE YOU FEEL INFERIOR





                    
‘No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.’ Eleanor Roosevelt.

Why someone has to remind us what we lack? Say, I am poor, have slanted eyes and small blunt nose but I do not need anyone to come up in rage and indicate about those deprived departments of mine. I am broke but I am happy that there are millionaires who engage in charity works, at least, they are doing something which I cannot do. There are cover page models who are physically perfect, they are happy, I am happy too, they love compliments, I love it too, only that they get more of it than me. When I see a politician in life size poster, I do not hate them or fear them, they were elected by someone's vote, and that someone is like me, you and people. There was time when I use to look up at the ceiling and cry out loud thinking of all the things people said to make me fell inferior. My pillow was my only comfort, the horizon of refugee and the substitute of one true friend. But things changed zero-me met zero-type friends and that me realized that '0' was the most powerful number in the whole world.


I am still surrounded by people who have the magic of interpreting their dusty imagination as the voice of the public, they breed but never breath, they are born to make you doubt your own worth. They will not hate you but they will hate your guts, the guts to survive even in this ill-rude world. In their eyes it is written, yes; it is marked all over their face that they want to strip you down, want to eat you raw, want to crush down your spirits low to the hell. I believe they will success if only there is misery in our face. But, the philosopher of ancient glory said that, " to mock at mystery, beauty was added, to mock at the time, love was added, to mock at life, humour was added."  I hope all of us got the logic. Yes, I take all the insults of all size like a one big joke from people who in order to hide their inferiority makes others inferior. Most of the time they win, and so I want the victims like me to read this note....no matter who we are, no matter where we come from, no matter where we go there will be the bullies, the maniacs, the chauvinistic, the racist, the sexist, the castist, and some extra 'ist'. But the remote button of the show belongs to us, turn the channel, the hero will be you, laugh at their face and they will be perplexed at our new found expression.

Now, all I have to say is that I am not the first one to come up with this idea, before me was Christ, Gandhi, and Martin Luther King Jr (who killed them? Not aliens), but they did not give up believing what they believe. And I pray on and on that let no one make us feel inferior without  our consent. Amen. Have a pleasant weekend.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

25 WAYS TO SCARE A MAN OFF



25. Never listen to the songs he likes.
24. Scratch your head before you feed him with your hands.
23. When he is discussing something important, snore as much as possible.
22. Cry when he is cracking a joke.
21. When he is narrating a sad childhood story, laugh as if it is your last.
20. Act as if you have forgotten his birthday, in fact, his surname.
19. When you go out never ever carry your purse, and always give him the excuse,“Baby, I forgot my purse.”
18. Wear his favourite T-shirt, but make sure that you lose it.
17. When he gets close to you, frat as stinky as possible.
16. Burp when he is about to kiss you.
15. Dirty his room when he is expecting family friends.
14. When on a car ride with him, do not put on the seat belt. Let him pay the fine.
13. When in a crowded restaurant, get up from your seat and dance.
12. Get drunk and puke on his favourite couch.
11. Draw a big party invite all his friends except him, and as an apology say, “I thought you will feel bored as there were no girls.”
10. Flirt with his brother, if he is the only son then target his best friend.
9.  Make him smell your five years’ old unwashed socks, and say, “Surprise!”
8.  Keep on asking why his ex-girlfriend left him.
7.  Slap hard on his face and act as you are lost in your thoughts.
6.  Crash his laptop with the virus.
5.  Pee on his platinum picture frame.
4.  Xerox his dairy and distribute among his friends.
3.  Always whisper in his ears, “I see dead people.”
2.  Tell him that you want to embrace ‘Cannibalism’.
1.  Do not follow any of these; I know that you have worse tricks than these. But, if he stays with you instead of all these then I have to say he is a keeper...lucky girl.




Bhag Bhag Bhag...wherever!!!!

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

A MIGHTY HEART- A FRIEND INDEED

True that there are times when I get hurt for the person or a friend whom I had loved the most misunderstands me the most. Worst is when they call out names and abuses me, for their own projection of complexities seen in me; who am I, after all, I am just a white screen, the portrayal of their own burdened soul. Then, God's humour sends this person, He capsules me with a poetic understanding of reflecting oneself- not to judge myself according to the handy mirror of others but with a positiveness of what ought to be done when I know that the flaw in me is just a way to chisel myself for greater battles.

A soul that truly loves me will always want to see me happy. Even when I stumble, the strong arms of destiny cannot mock at me for the wings of that one true friend will flap the degrees of harshness away. The coward's knife which stabs me from the back will melt down in the basking rays of the friend who will be there to mend my ways when it ought to be. The tears will be washed away, the battle will be won, there will be celebration when the slyness of my enemies will be buckled and thrown away to the land of Hades, the race will be won by the chariots of unceasing friendship.

Oh in the arms of a mighty heart driving beneath the ocean of life, I will swim, yes I will, I am the wave, and I have known my Moon...a friend indeed.


Tuesday, December 6, 2011

SOMEDAY THEY WILL KNOW

Someone said that she will be happiest soul when I die,
Someone said that I am a psycho,
Someone said that I always want to be the center of attention,
Someone said that I am a loser.

Someone said that I don't take life seriously;
Someone said that I should be more chill,
Someone said that I am a social butterfly,
Someone said that I am a loner.

Someone said that he does not love me anymore,
Someone said that he wants to go on a date with me;
Someone said that I am an angel,
Someone said that I am a witch.

How am I suppose to live in this paradox?


Monday, December 5, 2011

CHRISTMAS SONATA



When I was a child, I liked the candles, the cares and the cakes;
I liked the trees, the twinkling lights and the cards,
Christmas was always close to my heart,
My Saviour’s birth,  my sin’s death.

In my teenage years, I liked people wearing the best of coats and jackets;
The make-up in women’s faces- glorious and rich with red,
 I liked the Preacher’s message, the dishes and the photo shots;
Could look up above the sky to give more than, a passing glance.

Now, in my twenties I have to say that, I have never been kissed under mistletoe;
Over laden with works, worlds apart, I miss my family; I miss the childhood’s enthusiasm,
I called my mother just to say, “Ama, I won’t be home for Christmas.”
I am praying hard to fill the air with Christ’s lovely magic, to find myself jubilating in His birth.



Friday, December 2, 2011

WINTER WHISPERS


When I am old with no orgasm to excite me,
Sitting by the fireside and having my evening tea;
Thinking where you will be, but where ever you will be,
Do me a favour- do think of me.
The laughter brought by all the lighter side of life,
And the tragedies; yet amidst all the hardship, someone brought smiles in your face- not a stranger, not a jester, not a friend but by a girl who wrote this poem for you.
And silently hide her face in thousand stars of the sky
Not to be traced, not to be found.
*2011 version of William Butler Yeats' When You are Old

Thursday, December 1, 2011

THE GOLDEN MECHEBEN: THEY WERE IN NEED OF HER; SHE WAS IN SEARCH OF THEM




 Like any girl of her age ten year old Atina was curious to learn. She wanted to know why the sky was blue and high, wanted to know how it feels to have wings, wanted to know why fishes swim and pigs do not, these and many more. However, what she really wanted to know with all her curiosity was the ‘Golden Mecheben’. That day was going to be different for her for she was in her uncle’s house, the big house where she always felt like a princess. Sometimes she felt less fortunate not to have cousins, anyway she liked the attention that surrounded her. She was like the hole and the rest of her family was like the dough.

While touring the big bungalow, she was taken aback by the high ceiling and well structured walls, which she failed to notice when she was younger. What got her full attention was the picture hang on the pale wall. It was a black and white picture, in the picture stood her uncle- the proud owner of the house, her grand uncle, her dad who was then seven years old for sure and her great grandpa, the picture was completed by the presence of a lady. A lady who was very radiant, she had never seen her before. She wanted to know who that lady was. She took the help of the chair to take out the frame from the wall.
                                                
Atina: Uncle, who is this lady? She pointed at the lady in the picture.
Uncle Benju: She was the gift. Come and sit near me Atina.
Atina: Gift for whom? She sat near her uncle.
Uncle Benju: Nothing was sweet about that December... (Begins to narrate)


Nothing was sweet about that December, yet it gave us the gift of a life time- a gift to cherish forever. Cold winds blew bitterly in the lazy town of Kohima. The windows of the Ozukum’s house rattled giving a spooky effect to the old house. Inside there was a young man of eighteen years on his most comfortable chair, heavily engrossed in the game of chess with his grandpa. Little Imcha, the seven years old prince of the house was complaining about the clove in his mouth which grandpa had given to ease his toothache. His complains could have stopped only if someone had appreciated his sketch book, his dream was to become an artist.  

Then the phone rang,
Grandpa: Seriously, we don’t need a house maid. Pause. We share our household chores. Pause. Okay, send her tomorrow.
Grandpa: The wife of Colonel Temsu says that sixty-five is not a wise age to cook, mob the floor, water the plants and do the laundries. I told her that we share our household chores but she thinks that my stubbornness might kill me. She is right most of the time so I agreed to what she said. Plus, I took pity on the young girl, she is from a very poor family, she had no formal education, I hope her search for a decent living ends here.

So, came the next day. Little Imcha came panting,
 Imcha: Grandpa, grandpa there is a man looking for you.
Grandpa glanced at his watch and looked amuse.
Grandpa: Who will it be? Today is Sunday; if I entertain any guest then I will be late for the sermon. Let it be God’s will though. (Got up from the chair and marched towards the porch)

Anyone could have mistaken it for a man. Our new Helper was  6' feet and had a light moustache, tan skin and unruly hair, may be like her spirit. As an addition, Naga girls are like little angels, she was a giant.

Grandpa: So, you are here to help us. The cook will show you your room. I will get back to you after I return from the Church.

She nodded her head.

The sermon took longer than usual. Little Imcha dozed off; his elder brother chuckled gently looking at him. When they returned back, grandpa kept his Bible down in the round table along with his old wrist watch. After the lunch, he knocked the door of the girl. Five knocks but no answer, six knock and the door opened..

Helper: I was sleeping; the sunlight is pleasant in here.
Grandpa: So, what are you good at? So to say what could you like to do- cooking, laundry, or gardening?
Helper: Actually, I am fit for nothing.
Grandpa: Then, why are you here? (Her honesty made him smile, yet he took care that she did not notice it)
Helper: We are ten of us, my brother is a local constable but his knee injury has made him bed ridden, my mother is a widow, my father is dead.
Grandpa: Oh! How sad, may God have mercy on you and your family members. But, don’t make this story gain you a sympathy vote.
Helper: But, you just asked me why I am here?
Grandpa: I wanted to hear what are you good at, cooking, laundry or gardening?
Helper:  I eat whatever my mother cooks, I don’t know what meat should taste like or a soya soup should smell like. I think; I will be better in laundry for I love the smell of the detergents and gardening too for I love the smell of the soil.
Grandpa: Okay, that was a good explanation, laundry and gardening from tomorrow. Yes, the sun is pleasant (He walked out).

As the days passed by, her work load became more and more. She hardly interacted with anyone and that was mutual. The cook thought that she was very hardworking but slow in following instructions; grandpa thought that she is a woman of few words and obedient to the core, the elder son thought that she is a human robot, expressionless face, does what she is said to do. Little Imcha wanted her as his playmate. She learned the daily routine of the family members, but what fascinated her most was the way they assembled after the family dinner for an evening prayer. She quietly listened to Bible memory versus read out by grandpa from her room which was adjacent to the big living room.

One evening while she was watering the plants, little Imcha walked up to her and made the first conversation..
Little Imcha: I will be taller then you.
Helper: You will be..
Little Imcha: My uncle is coming from Delhi today and he is going to bring lots of toy for me.
The Helper: That’s why you are excited; I can see the joy on your face.
Little Imcha: But, I won’t share it with you. You are not my friend.
The Helper: When I was your age I did not have any toys to play with, the piglet was my toy but I had lots of friends. I can be your friend.
Little Imcha: Do you know how to make a catapult? I have to go now, my tuition teacher will be really annoyed if I am not on time.

Yes, she did know how to make a catapult and she had one in her trunk which she planned to give to the one who was so much like her younger brothers- restless and inquisitive.

Little Imcha's beloved uncle returned from Delhi.
Uncle: Why is the tea so usual?
Grandpa: We have a new maid.
Uncle: And she does not know the taste of sugar and salt, what joy.
Grandpa: Get use to it. She is an exception.

Uncle did not like the way clothes were hung neither do he liked the way she watered the plant.
Uncle: Tell the helper of ours to hung the pants and the shirts separately, tell her something about dyes too and do let her know that she wastes half of our capital’s water in watering the plants.
Grandpa: No, son you tell her. I want to be God’s mouth piece not of Tom, Dick and Harry.
Uncle: Since when have I become ordinary?
Grandpa: You are getting late for the College. 

When he walked out from the front door, he saw the helper whistling while making rose beds with a hoe.
Uncle: Listen, I have certain instructions for you. Number one, I do not like the way you hung the clothes and number two, you waste tons of water for the sake of plants which I find illogical and it really irks me.

{The Helper glances at his eyes just for once and shied away. When he walks towards the gate, the Helper truly agrees to herself that he is the most beautiful creature she had laid her eyes upon. Although, older than her; she is fascinated by his ways, which the cook had described as ‘moody’.}

Imcha's elder brother, who was of the Helper’s age found her amusing, thought that she was a strange creature in deed. He loved to laugh when she chased cockerels for dinner and the way she got hyper exited when taking her seat in the car for shopping. On one of the rare days his friends came to visit him, and as their luck could have it the cook was absent that day. The Helper served the tea, all his friends stopped  for she conquered like a warrior. When she left the drawing room, he knew what to say……

The older boy: Don’t say anything. She is our new Helper. I know she is ugly like a village pig, but she is not lazy like a flying balloon.
Friends:  She is so calm, a quality hard to find in maids.
The older boy: For your information she is also good in chasing cockerels, a quality hardest to find in maids.

On one of the occasions, she was seated next to the older boy in the car.
The older Boy: You don’t talk much, don’t you?
Helper: I do talk, but my mother instructed me to work more and talk less so to be liked by my employers.
The older Boy: Do you like working at Ozukum’s home?
Helper: One month and two weeks went fine.
While stepping out from the car,
The older Boy: Gosh, you are tall.
Helper: Everyone says so. She blushed.

When the Summer showed its radiant face, Kohima was pleasant for all the residents. The older Boy was utterly sorry for the preconceptions he had earlier made of the Helper. She was good in carrying out orders and instructions yet she was not a robot, she was like one of them, she was someone with emotions. Also, the older boy had arrived at an age where the emotions stirred into different thoughts and actions. He was badly infatuated with a girl in his Choral group, the problem was he had no single trustworthy friend to share it with. Many a nights he wrote poems hoping to shower it upon her, but all in vain. Uncle Tali who often came across the poems scribbled on the fair pages of the table, could smirk and agree that it was a common tragedy, for when a person not a boy nor yet a man is hit by the arrows of love turns into a poet, a saint or a lunatic. 

The older boy found refuge in the Helper, who was of his age.

The older boy: I like a girl in my class.
Helper: Grandpa will not be very pleased to hear that.
The older boy: It does not mean that I don’t concentrate on my studies.
Helper: So, about the girl?
The older boy: Yes, I like her and I don’t know how to convey my feelings to her.
Helper: Oh, that won’t be tough. I can bring her to you.
The older boy: I know you can. Laughs

 The older boy wondered what she was planning to do, gave him tips or try to be friend with the object of his affection, though she could be bad at both. He wanted to wait and see what plans she could come up with while he studied for his medical entrance exam. But, on the next day to his utter surprise the house was filled with the screams of a girl.

The older boy: Lenti, what are you doing here? I mean, I am pleased to see you.
Lentina: I don’t know what I am doing here. This giant dragged me all the way from school.
Helper: I didn’t drag her; I brought her in my cycle. When I told her gently to come alone with me, she made fun of me.
Lentina: Yes, I did, who won’t?
Helper: He has something to say. I am leaving you two alone.
Lentina: What is it? Say it fast.

When alone, he cleared his throat, felt extremely nervous
The older boy: You have a beautiful voice and hair.…
Lentina: I know it right; tell me something I don’t know.
The older boy: Well for long I wanted to say that I admire you a lot and could want to know how you feel about me?
Lentina: Laughs. Thin like a fading dream, and nose like a bolder.
The older boy: Thanks. Anything more?
Lentina: A very pitiable boy indeed.
The older boy:  Lenti you are full of pride, I have never seen this sight of yours.
Lentina: I have to after all I am endowed with perfections.
The older boy: Then you deserve to walk out from this room.

When Lentina walked out of the room, he compared Lentina and the Helper, same species yet so different.
On one of the rainy days, the Helper was asked to pick up little Imcha from the school. He hopped and jumped, splashing the muddy water on the Helper…
Helper: Get inside the umbrella. You might get sick.
Got inside the umbrella, yet complained
Little Imcha: Why is everyone afraid of rain? Grandpa, elder brother, uncle and you.
Helper: Maybe, the rest of us know that there will be no one to take care of us if we get sick.
Little Imcha: I will take care of you if you every get sick.
The Helper: I will keep that in mind.

That night little Imcha got sick. Everyone took shift to nurse him, uncle Tali called the Helper…
Uncle: I heard that you have lots of younger brothers and sisters.
Helper: Yes I have.
Uncle: Yet, you don’t know how to take care of one. His exam is knocking at the door, how could you not handle a child?
Grandpa (came with the tray and handed it over to the Helper): Come on son this is not the first time your nephew is sick. He will be fine by tomorrow. Now, both of you get some sleep.

A week later while the Cook and the Helper were peeling yams, they engage in a conversation about the family.
The cook: Little Imcha’s mother died when he was one year old, the following year his father died in a car accident leaving him and his elder brother. Uncle Tali, decided to remain a confirm bachelor and look after his two nephews. Old grandpa, he is such a strong man of God, full of unshakable faith filled with love.
Helper: Yes, we are very lucky to work for them.

Meanwhile, the older guy who came down to ask for tea feels delighted after secretly hearing the conversation, walked up the room without ordering the tea. As the weeks passed by the older boy and the Helper’s friendship bloomed. He became aware of the Helper’s infatuation on his uncle, and to add to his conclusion one fine morning out of his window he saw her gently smelling uncle Tali’s shirt which hung in the lawns. He was glad at the thought that he knew what she might be thinking while lost in the smell of the fresh detergent that, long ago grandpa was lucky to have someone to smell his shirt and in coming years little Imcha’s shirt could be tenderly touched  by someone. 

The older boy: Anyway, is there anyone in the whole of Nagaland whom you are in love with? I mean you have reached a good age to think about it.
 Helper: My mother said that I have reached a marriageable age. But, I told her I will only marry a man like your uncle.
The older Boy: Highly infatuated with him ha.
Helper: He has certain qualities that I like.
The older Boy: Grandpa considers him to be very blunt which unintentionally hurts people.
Helper: I think he gets annoyed at the fact that I am clumsy.
The older Boy: Forget it. He is twenty years older than you.
Helper: And he is my employer. She laughs.

As the timing could have had it, grandpa was in a good mood of storytelling to anyone who wanted to listen. That night the older guy and the Helper were the listeners. The older guy being aware of what the Helper will be interested in, requested grandpa to reveal the reason why his uncle never got married…
The older boy: Is it of us that he never got married?
Grandpa: That’s what you think, but he is no fool to let marriage effect the love he has for you. The things are more complicated then it seems to be.
The older boy: Such as?
Grandpa: He did had a very long affair.
In unison the older boy and the Helper: Really?
Grandpa: She was from a noble family; she wanted to live a sophisticated life which my son never dream off.
The older boy: Then?
Grandpa: They broke off; she married a man of her type. Your uncle is someone who does not believe in love after love. That was ten years ago though.
Helper: That’s so funny (laughs)
The older Boy: What’s so funny?
Helper: That he knows the feeling of being alone.
Uncle walked up to them; he had heard what was being said of him. He, being a private person did not like what was being so expressively said by grandpa…
Uncle: Respected Pastor, I don’t want you to share my personal details with everyone.
Grandpa: Everyone? My son, I share it with only persons I know and have trust.
Uncle: You have great faith in that helper of ours?
Grandpa: Yes, she has proved herself to be very trustworthy.
Uncle: Tell me when she turns out to be one of the scandal mongers; I will be delighted to hear it.
Helper: I am sorry to disappoint you. That will never happen again…she walked away.
Grandpa: You hurt her a lot.

{When grandpa and the uncle left, the room becomes quiet. Swallowed in deep thoughts, the older boy shrinks on the couch and thought of why the people whom we loves the most hurts us the most…}
Next day, he was woken up by the Uncle. While having his breakfast he joins him, before he left the table he closed his wrist button and said

Uncle: The feelings that she has for me is just like a wave, a tidal wave, higher and highest will it grow, but in a moment it will gushed and level down with the shore. She will be fine again. Don’t be so baffled.

On the Thanks Giving Sunday, the grandpa had to deliver a sermon but he could not make it on time. His usual backache got worse that he was bedridden for weeks. No one could detect what exactly was the cause of his sickness; neither the doctors nor the local physician. All he did was pray while laying flat on the bed, the family members could watch him in dismay…so did the Helper…

All the nearer and dearer ones of Ozukum’s family looked for an answer; they wanted the remedy, a remedy that could heal their beloved pastor. But all their faith and hope became to shake when the Pastor’s health weaken from bad to worse. Deep down inside everyone knew the answer to the cure and the cure was death. They had well adjusted with the fact that only death could subside his pains, and everyone was ready to accept it except someone……

Little Imcha: Is there no medicine to cure grandpa?
The older boy: That’s what I heard.
Helper: Maybe, there is. Maybe, we are not trying too hard to find it.
Little Imcha: My friend’s grandmother said that in Mount Saramati there grows a bunch of golden Mecheben on the tallest of tree, it has the power to cure all sickness, all incurable disease in this world, it takes away pain, it sustains life.
The older Boy: What's rubbish, what is the proof that it is true, where is the proof that it really exist?
Helper: Where is the proof that it doesn’t exist, where is the proof that it is not true?
The older Boy: Okay, even if there is who will go there and pluck it for him. Who will go to that extend?

The Helper was awake the whole night, she could not sleep for the gratitude that she had for the family made her indebted. She was ready to go to the extreme most to save grandpa’s life. If there was anything called Golden Mecheben that could save grandpa’s life, then she was ready to bring it down from the highest of mountains, she was ready to climb up Saramati, yes she was. She pondered what she was going to lose if ever there was no such thing called ‘the Golden Mecheben’, nothing; she was going to lose nothing.

Helper: I want leave, leave for three weeks.
Uncle: How can you ask for leave?
Helper: I have worked  days and nights, I did my best. I deserve some rest, I have my parents, I have my sisters and brothers.
Uncle: I know that, and I solely agree that you deserve a long leave but this is not the right time, you know we need you. We need you….but who am I to stop you, your real employer is sick on the bed.

{She gives a glance at the house for the last time before she departs for the mission, the mission for which she believed she was born. She was sad that she had not said her short good bye to anyone, not to grandpa, or the Older boy, or to Little Imcha or the Cook..but hoped to see them soon…}

Ten days after the New Year’s Day, the older boy and his brother goes to her native place to meet her. However they were told that she was not there, and that all the while her mother thought that she was with the Ozukum. Her mother breaks down thinking that she had malign the family’s name by eloping. And that if it was so then whenever she returns she should be conveyed with the news that she is no more her daughter. The older boy and his brother sadly returned….

It was a bright sunny day, the ray of the sun shined on the roof of Ozukum’s house like a blessing from above. The gate made its usual sound indicating the welcoming of a guest, little Imcha took long steps from his room to say that the Helper has come; he had seen her from the window. Everyone in the house rushed….

For a moment everyone stood still. She looked so weak, dirty, and weary, badly in need of rest and care. In her hands were some wild yellow flowers, which she held with so much of attention...
Uncle: So, you are back.
The older boy: Where were you? We searched for you every possible corner.
Little Imcha: I missed you.
The cook: Want some water?
Helper: I went all the way to Pongru, to climb up Saramati, to bring the healing flower- the Golden Mecheben. And this is it (she showed them).
They all say in unison: What?
Helper: Yes, this is the Golden Mecheben (she lifted up the Mecheben).
Uncle: We are really honored to know that you walked the distance for our family, but it was a very stupid thing to do. Your room is as clean as the last time you saw it, now freshen up and join us for lunch (walked inside the house).
The older boy: Grandpa passed away (looked down).
Helper: When?
The older boy: Three days after you left.
The Helper breaks down, yells and cries, the older boy goes forward to give her comforting arms…..
Helper: What took me so long? I wish I could make it on time.
The older boy: When we told grandpa about your departure, then there was a smile on his face, he said that he knew exactly where you were going.

After some hours the lunch was laid down but there was no sign of the Helper. Little Imcha went to wake her up; she was seen sleeping like a log, the older guy came up and tell little Imcha to let her take rest as long as she wants. The dusk sat in; uncle Tali went to the verandah and picked up the so called Golden Mecheben. He smiled for the same flowers grew like mushrooms in the forest surrounding his college. But, whatever it was he realized that they had found a Golden Mecheben in her, she was their Golden Mecheben. A Helper so true, so obedient, so loyal and so compassionate, he hurried to her room to tell her that he has been wrong all this while about her and how his heart was filled with gratitude….

Uncle: Devoted one, please wake up (He stood near her bed)

He called out her name but to no avail, she was there like a stone. He gently shook her but she laid there motionless, that moment a careless breeze fan his face, it rang a bell on his head. Their Golden Mecheben had left them; she had left them to be united with grandpa…
The Cook (from behind): She for sure went to meet grandpa to apologize for being late.
Uncle: She was kinder than we deserve.

The older Boy: Many years had rolled, there came and went by lots of helper but there was no one like her. She was the best one we had, the energy, the loyalty and the sincerity she had was no match to anyone. Our uncle Tali passed away two years ago, the only thing he regretted in his life time was the moment when he said to our Helper that she being a woman was a 'frail creature'. For, what she taught to uncle Tali and to us was; moral courage is above physical courage and that it can be possess by anyone yet love was above everything else.

When Benju Ozukum finished the story, there are un-shed tears in Atina’s eyes. She understood now who the Golden Mecheben was and why the Ozukum’s family hold her so dear.
Little Imcha: Give your uncle some time to rest.
Atina Ozukum: Sure. Uncle Benju, I will take a stroll in the garden with Papa.
Uncle Benju: Go ahead my dear.
Little Imcha: See you in an hour dear brother.

The older boy was left alone in the drawing room, many a days he was lost in the memories of his loved ones, but today he blazed in the memories of the Golden Mecheben. He evaporated himself with a question- what if the Helper was alive today, what could she be doing? And the answer was simple, she could be doing the thing she loved most….to love the people who were in need of love.

5 MISTAKES YOU SHOULD NEVER MAKE AT WORK PLACE

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