The Healing Power of Love .. *To You, Prof. Dumbledore :) *

*sniff sniff* *dry cough*

*sigh-cum-deep drawn sniff*

*gulp—eyes blink in pain, as my throat squirms in revolt*

*lifting each finger with effort, and mouthing a groan-y ‘hhmmm’ to di’s warning that I take care to not let her laptop slip down and shatter* (You see, I’m again holding it high in the air on my lap – it is perpendicularly suspended in mid air, supported precariously on a pair of sick and tired lower limbs, weak with fever – Cant sit up straight, m lying down supine ! – I employ this position often, but today it’s not a choice but a compulsion ..)

You know … *painful sniff again*

I am sick. And worse.. I’m down …not with the sweltering heat of Delhi … but with a Cold!

And I’m trying to figure out where I must have caught it.

Karishma blamed it on our frequent shifts between the AC-ed and Non- AC-ed environments .. no wonder so many people can be seen patting their throats and screwing their noses. This is in the air :( ..

I have strong reasons to believe that I picked it from a happy-go-lucky-go-publicly-coughy-merrily-throwing-cold-viruses-in-the-air co-intern, who insisted upon attending the office -with an EarNoseThroat fully choked with phlegm – every single day! … even though ordinarily he wouldn’t bat an eyelid when bunking office with such ah … CEO-like-elan coz ..and I quote“ this would show them how committed I am… “ :P

Yeah!

As if This place had not given me enough woes already – a (hitherto ) godforsaken project, a cup of Bad-tasting tea everyday .. for which (I recently discovered) they charge us right out of our stipend :P … A sorry sacrifice of whatever little dignity I had walked in with, at the altar of Some people’s Witticisms :( ..

And Now ! ..

The final straw that’s threatening to break the Camel’s back … a disgusting cold- rendering me physically incapable of free mobility, easy breathing, anything!! :(

In this state of half-trance (fever people! .. I have fever!! .. :( ) am almost filled with thoughts of vindictive pleasure *evil grin*

Let me be sick all the way up till Monday, and let me carry the germs back to their native place- My Office… Andddddddd let me gift these to all those whom I wanna get back at :D :D .. by means of unabashed open-mouth coughing and sneezing (yeahh .. could I be more of a blot on the name of my esteemed institute!)

But hang on *stressing her peanut-brain with all her might* … there IS nobody who has wronged me.. there :( … on the contrary … :)

*looks at the bottom left corner of the ms word screen, only to realize that she has been blabbering about stuff unrelated to the original intent of the post*

Okayy ,,, now m too tired … but wanted to say a LOT!! ..

Now, somehow, just cant!

Okay …. A few years ago, on this planet called Earth, another creature was born ..

They named her something nice. But she is my Fairy God –Mother, guised as a mortal elder sister.

I somehow don’t feel like profiling her on a public forum … somehow, I think any lay person laying eyes on her profile sketch would not do justice to the meaning that the words hold for me … and I don’t want to desecrate the divine phenomenon that I have here.. with me.. for me .. always …

Okayy .. I’m not even talking about the pristine soul that this one is …

But today, as I was purchasing something at a sabziwala’s cart on my way home (struggling to stand on my two feet … I am SUFFERING from fever remember*shoots a warning look if the reader had dared forget maintaining the understanding-sympathy look while reading this post*!!)

Well, suddenly .. I saw this really tiny girl … clad in modest clothing (the kind that wears off by extensive use, and is then passed on by the Indian Patron families to their domestic help et al) … this girl came out of nowhere, and broke down into really loud sobs, tears rolling down her already stained (with malnourishment and impoverishment ) face … I wondered what was wrong .. looking around curiously for maybe the Dad (at first, my hunch was that she was the sabziwale uncle’s daughter ) … well, he kept on loading and unloading sabzi nonchalantly, indifferently, as though the girl, her heart wrenching sobs, and bucketsload of tears did not even exist!

The little girl cried. Louder. Tears streaming down her face in spates! … And .. dunno what struck me inside.. I wanted to walk up to her, just hug her and ask her why she was crying… I tell you, it was so moving that had it been a more worth-her-space-on-this-earth creature in my place, they would have bought her a bar of Temptations to just stop her from crying.

She pressed herself against the door of a car … crying ..to no avail .. a few seconds later … she started mouthing (at the universe, I presume coz none of the bystanders had even noticed her presence, let alone be an audience to her sobs!) .. she mouthed “mummy..mummy” … helplessly ..

In a tone .. that yearns for clinging …

Clinging on to somebody or something , for help…. For support … for ..well … for just Being., for holding on.

I considered asking the sabziwale uncle as to who this kid belonged to .. and just then, my gaze fell upon another girl (bit taller than the little girl, lets call her ‘Chotu’ :) ) … looking at her from a distance ..

She stopped, she looked hesitantly, and then she looked away. Mouthing something to … I can only guess.. to the rest of her playmates .. signaling to resume their play anyway .. this disturbance notwithstanding.

Here is what I think must have transpired:

Chotu and her playmates must have quarreled (maybe they had an argument over whether she was “out” and was to play the “Denner” {err..pardon me, I was never sure how that word is spelt!} .. or maybe they were not including her in the game for some weird reason .. maybe coz she was the youngest of them all (didn’t they have a term for it .. kachchi goli I think :) ) … I dunno!! Cud be anything!!) … But here she was …feeling wronged, hurt, ignored and bruised … crying out for someone who would tell her comforting things that any kid her age would want to hear …

Ignore them. Didis are being mean. We wont talk to them. Come let us play something else.

Koi baat nahi, chalo abba kar lo. Vaapas game khelo.. Main dekhti hoon kaise Den dene ko kehte hain yeh log aapse.

Oh For chrissake!! Anything …

Or maybe she just needed a pair of warm secure arms to be taken into- away from the bad, mad world of her playmates. And wipe her tears on somebody’s safe shoulders. Bury her face into an adult’s tummy, hold on tight, and just sob her heart away.

And yet, there she stood. All alone. Forgotten. Crying her throat hoarse.

Eventually, she seemed to have run out of tears .. (shamelessly worthless as I am .. all this while, I just looked – from the tall girl, to Chotu to the sabziwale uncle .. wondering whether it would be ’okay’ if I just walked up to her and talked to her!)

I took my packet, and walked back home. And I had just rung the bell, and stepped inside my home that my sis’ sickly lovey-dovey welcome calls (like a cerelac baby had walked out of the can into her room :-x )reached my ears *indicative of a good day at work for her* … as usual, I cracked a ruthless joke about her routine annoying habit and her sanity levels , to M (our domestic help) .. and we both rolled up with sarcastic laughter.

I walked straight to my room until Nanima and di’s calls/queries became so intolerably unavoidable that I gathered all strength to register my attendance in their room. Well, there was an ulterior motive of course! I had to tell them how sick I felt. How I couldn’t walk a step without pain. How I was messed up from head to toe, and all this, after a hard day at WORK! (err… didn’t bother to mention that all I did today in college .. was engage in another chat-session/nonsense- repartee exchange with Mamata Ma’am and Devanshu under the pretext of working for the Live Project—doing just a little bit of real ‘work’ in between breaks!)

My face (automatically, I swear!!) rearranged itself into a look of utter pain and agony.

And I got what I had wanted. Impromptu .. Oooooohhs and aaaaaahhs … looks of pity, empathy, checking of pulse .. patting of the head … (“Shruti! .. ur running a temperature, beta !”) ..as I put up a mock-brave front. (I had even begun on a mature note- whispering to my sis abt the fever, so that nanima would not get worried!.. but Well.. Lady Pink Panther that she is .. how could it have missed her antenna-like ears.. and well I wasn’t really complaining in my heart of hearts – the more sympathy, the merrier I am! *disgusting I know! .. but then—u shud have known me better—this is the Real Me!!*)

Poor M flung into action ... with her milk and tea and whatnots ..

I sighed, simpered … and returned to my room .. and then yelled out to my sister something abt the “internet not working” .. satisfied myself with a .. “ohhh ..too bad” from her end .. and then, just lay there .. And waited for my sis to walk in …

Well… she has her magic wand .. and I make full use of it. All I have to do is cling on to her. Well, just her being around .. the safe knowledge that she knows how screwed up I am .. works magic.

I just have to pour it all out – not even in words.. she just understands .. lets me be sad, melancholic.

She has “it will all be alright, Shruti” written all over her face. *** see note at the end

Poor my folks.. have never gotten a positive/encouraging reply to any of their queries about “how was my day” .. abt watsup with my life in general. It is always cribbing. It is always the worst that I could list.

And if it weren’t for this ventilation..

But for these sounding boards -- I would have ceased to exist– ages ago.

Ditto all the others in my family, whom I turn to .. for just about everything.

Surely, the greatest gift God can give someone is a set of loved ones. Everything else comes and goes.

What would have I done I can’t imagine (and sheeeeeesh I don’t WANT to! ) if these people weren’t around! ..

One shudders to think of those unfortunate souls who lose all their loved ones in life … or those who never have any. Those who must “seek” love, security , trust, and mutual bonding.. get bruised, bleed, and bandage the wound themselves and move on … all by themselves.

Oh … I’m sure the little girl I saw had some family. But I am not sure whether she had the comfort of those arms, the snug hug.. the reassuring smile that says “ it will all be alright” … how many times do you see really poor kids wailing unclaimed around a pile of garbage, sometimes a 2 foot girl, holding a .5 foot bundle of a baby brother by her side .. and walking … barefooted .. to nowhere ..

The mothers may be anywhere .. maybe begging, or lying by the footpath, in a heap of desolate despair, weakened by hunger, exploitation and have-not-ism.- The Universal fact of Motherly instincts beaten down badly by animal instincts for energy and material/spiritual hope.

We just don’t realize just about HOW lucky we are .. and keep taking our loved ones for granted … Well, I think that’s fairly alright … that is what god made them for ! .. (as long as, u take care of the ROI factor--- it is all good :) ) …

I just wish she had a Fairy Godmother too .. our Chotu! I wish tonight someone put her down to sleep, with a kiss on the forehead, or in a tight embrace .. even if they were sleeping on a mat on a floor of concrete..

I just hope, Chotu .. like many lucky ones like us .. too has some loved one(s) … that she too has hope to fight all despair.

Professor Dumbledore had always been right about the Healing Power of Love.. how it can fight all Evil on earth. It can. Oh, it sooo can. If only, we would come to realize its potential power to spread happiness, peace and calm. Cheers, Dumbledore. Cheers, Jo.

Cheers …

*** Okay .. get real .. there is also this very mean, insensitive side to her! – like the n number of times she stealthily ate my share of Maggie, and unapologetically fought with me when I protested, when she locked me in the bathroom when I was a hapless little kid (err.. not really hapless tho – I had a good mind to bang the door down with loud wails, until I heard my mum’s voice and employed plan Two instead—of sitting sadly in the corner, to strike notes of sympathy, and win the game :D :D), the legendary war in which she tore off my favourite shirt, over “who-gets-the-remote-control” .., and gave me proper red scratches across my neck :O :O to my mum’s horror! .. Or when we punched each other in the face once (a real loose Tooth for a loose Tooth- and thankfully, since both lost milk teeth, we could keep the story under wraps, to be safe from parental wrath).. or when I was this one year old innocent (YEAH! I was THAT too, once upon a time :D) baby, and she would put me to sleep (by borrowing my milk bottle kinds from mum and feeding me forcefully) whenever some uncles and aunties came over and got chocolates for the “Two little daughters in the family. ..” and would feed on my share while I slept, and innocently awoke to absolutely NO recollection of the choc that I had earned a while ago! *gawwd… I’m kinda liking her less and less now .. as I recollect all this..*… Ohhh the list is endless!! :-x