Literary Diarrhoea

Muhammad was friendly and in Jack he had a friend,

They traveled together to many an unknown land,

Muhammad was a believer; in little things he called Gods,

And fittingly Jack was an atheist, the fundamentals forgot.

Spots of sunlight danced on their faces, between leaves of tall trees. It was a new jungle traversed, a new experience welcomed. Muhammad embraced the beauty of nature, and Jack heeded the strict regime of good health. Thus they traveled together; separate - followed closely by the dancing sunlight on their faces. The glaring spots of light irritated Jack on his journey, but Muhammad appreciated it, as the proof of the Almighty. To Jack he said :

Allahuakhbar, allahuakhbar, praise to the Almighty Lord,

Do you not notice, Jack, that Nature reflects God?

That the indivisible Sun, becomes boundless, aplenty,

By the division of space and time, even the leaf of a tree!

Much like the all-encompassing Religion,

Divided only by devotion from legions of different regions!

Jack, true to his objective thinking and logic could only laugh at the chatter of Muhammad, his friend. Muhammad was a joy to be with, for his thoughts often allowed Jack to debate, on his one true belief, that which he sees. He deemed silly those who believe that which cannot be seen, heard or felt. Faith was for the faint-hearted, religion for the crippled, and Gods for the lunatics. His life was governed by logic and sense, reasoning and discrimination. To Muhammad he said:

Aye Muhammad, in your delight be cautious,

For I detest the sunrays as they stunt my journey,

Bright lights are danger to the sight of your future,

Know you may not, a snake beyond the bush flower,

And in the fervency of your prayer,

Don’t lose a leg to your Dear Nature!

Muhammad and Jack continued their journey, amidst the wondrous beauty of flowers and trees, the order of the ants and the chatter of the birds. It was after a few hours passed, that it started to rain. The sound of water falling on the canopy roofs of umbrella trees filled Muhammad with a sense of joy in being there, a witness. Rain was pouring in the jungle in a few seconds Drenched and soaked, Muhammad and Jack waited under a tree accompanied by thunder and lightning. Jack told Muhammad,

We’re soaked and stuck, in this jungle of rain,

Where thunder and lightning threaten to destroy and ruin.

Did you know, my friend, that a lightning captured,

Could give life to a city for many moons and rains?
Imagine one to land on our heads!

We’ll disappear in an instant, even before the pain!

Muhammad smiled to his worried friend, who was quite obviously shaken by the enormous power of Nature. The rain did not promise to stop, and they decided to carry on their journey through the thick forest.

Darkness had befallen the jungle, contributed early by the clouds of rain above. Muhammad and Jack realized they were lost. And hungry. Seeing a tree ripe with fruits they have never seen before, Muhammad reached out to pluck a few to eat. And chancing upon large leaves, Muhammad engineered a water collector, and gathered water from leaves to drink. In seeing this, Jack warned :

Careful there my good friend Muhammad,

Fruits of the forest are oft poison left unmasked,

And our body is not meant for rain water or dew,

I would rather starve if I were you,

And save my appetite for a good meal or two!

Muhammad looked at his friend with pity. He always tried to help Jack look at life with more faith and trust. But Jack was a cautious man, and Muhammad was ever-ready to provide enough proof of the beauty of surrender. To Jack he said :

Oh Jack, my friend who means well,

Look at those fruits, fully ripe and inviting,

Half-eaten by the birds in jungle dwell,

Could it be poison that attracts a crowd?

In nature too, order prevails,

The fruits are meant for purpose of growth,

Reproduction helped by the birds and the bees,

Wasn’t that a lesson you learnt in your teens!

Jack shrugged the suggestion off, and opted for starvation and irritation. Muhammad, his fruity meal cherished, continued to walk. Jack got frustrated, as they were both lost and heading towards no apparent direction. But Muhammad seemed to know exactly where he is going. Not trusting Muhammad, Jack took his compass to find for altitudes, but he didn’t know which direction would lead them home. He was completely lost. To Muhammad he said :

Hey Muhammad so confident and wise,

Aren’t we lost in this jungle of thunder and rain?

Wherefore is your Almighty? Of what use is your faith?

Now we are lost, probably eaten by the beasts,

I challenge you now to deem the rain stop!

In the name of your so-called Almighty Lord.

Muhammad smiled, as he always does. Jack was in obvious frustration. His life was guarded by reason and enveloped by concerns. He should let go, Muhammad would show him. To Jack he said :

My friend, so flustered and irritated,

Let me assure you of the compass of life.

That your compass failed to help, I will overlook,

Only if you promise to learn the art of Truth.

Jack looked confused, for which Muhammad continued :

The knowledge of the modern age is narrow and short,

Expand your education in understanding Nature and God,

For the lightning in power and ability you have learnt,

But for what use was that in our journey here, lost?

All I need to know is lightning provides light.

And that instance I use to look ahead for our path,

We are not lost my dear, for the lightning provides sight,

And the thunder ensued should keep the beasts away tonight.

Jack felt embarrassed, and silently followed Muhammad, as they followed the path, thanks to the light from the constant lightning. Soon enough, they were both on the roads leading back home. On the way back, Muhammad was singing songs of praise to the Lord, while Jack was hungry, wet and tired. To Jack Muhammad said :

It is a kind example to you my dear friend,

That a destination is set, but the journey not,

We started together, and ended the same spot,

But which of our journey do you think was sweet?

So there you go my dear friends,

A story and within it, songs,

But heed not the story, heed not the song,

But embrace the song that is sung through the story,

The song which Is about Him Almighty,

Who is all-encompassing, everywhere, all-along.

She had asked him to wear a bright blue shirt. It was her favourite colour, among many other things favoured. He picks his best blue shirt, pressed to perfection, creased at the right places, elegant and handsome. He had to look his best, it would make her day.

She had stolen his heart since the first time he saw her. Their ages were far apart, but what is age but a relative number counting the days to die. This was a feeling eternal. Love indeed does exist, in forms indescribable. In just 74 days, she has filled him with so much emotions. And this day is so important. It is "our special day," as she would say it.

He was feeling nervous. He has done this many times, but it always feels like the first time, everytime. While getting dressed and preparing to leave, his thoughts traveled ahead, reaching her before him. He remembered the first time he saw her cherry lips, so confident and perfect, and how she would smile for little things and pout for silly reasons. He remembered her joyous laughter when she heard his silly jokes. He recalled how adorable she looks when telling her stories. Her simplicity was infectious, her innocence angelic.

He reaches the place, their usual meeting place. He goes up the elevator, stops at her floor, reaches the room. Outside the room, he takes a few moments to regroup himself. There was always an air of nervourness about this one girl. Sometimes, he felt awkward to feel it this way, him being the elder and more experienced. But in this case, she seemed to have full control, and he struggled to stay composed. After a few deep breaths, he opens the door.

There she was, lying down on the bed, looking more beautiful than ever. She had done up her hair, and some make-up on the face made her angelic look feel celestial. She smiles at him, and waves slight.

"Hello handsome," she grins.

"Hi sweetheart"

"Well, i am ready, i guess."

"I am ready too, dear"

"WIll it hurt?" she asks in a worried but confident manner.

"I’ll be gentle" he didn’t know a better answer.

It lasted 5 hours. She put up the bravest fight, hanging on to her life with all her heart, but it got the better of her. 12-year-old Sunita died in the operation theatre on the hands of her beloved doctor, Dr.Andrews after battling hard to remove a tumor in her body. God Almighty loved her more, and Dr.Andrews knew very well why. She was an angel, at birth and at death.

Jason walked into the room. A smokey ashen ambience seemed to envelope the corners and borders of the sparingly furnitured place. The dominant feeling was of discomfort and unease. But, then again, that state of emotion has been dominant for quite sometime anyway.

Mother had asked Jason to go into his room, and await her there. She always had a mysterious way of making Jason do everything she said. He has been worried about her a lot lately. Her condition was getting from bad to worse. She cries to much, screams too much, she’s just too emotional. But she always managed to make Jason feel easy and he always listened to her. He still couldn’t figure out why. Maybe that’s why it’s called mysterious. You should never figure it out.

It was about the time Jason’s patience had thinned and intermingled with the clouds of doubt about, that he spotted Jim sitting at the far end of the room.

"Hey Jim!! I didn’t know you were here…how ya doing, old pal?"

Jason was just excited to have another soul to speak to. But Jim was not too much of a conversationalist. They were best friends since five, and Jim was one of the only people who understood Jason.

"Say, Jim…its been a while since we played roller-coaster-boaster huh? Hah, you sure do remember the game don’t you? We were so young those times…"

Jim just stared at him. But Jason saw that behind that sombre look was a reel of memory running in joyous speed, reminiscing a wonderful time spent together in that age when friendship was indeed like a ship sailing along the winds of joy and laughter.

"I loved those times, Jim, you sure do too…," Jason was quite sure of it.

Jason spent the next hour sitting next to Jim and just speaking his heart out. Jim was the best listener Jason had ever met, and he cherished his friend so much. Jason explained to Jim his worries about his mother. It was something Jason could only relate to Jim, as they were, without doubt, best friends since childhood.

"You know, man…i am gonna ask my dad to bring my mother to the best psychoanalyst or psychologist or whatever psycho idiots out there. The best of them. They surely can cure my momma…She is getting worse man…by the day"

Jim seemed to understand. He looked worried too.

"Man, she cries too much. She screams when she sees me sometimes, i just dont know what to do man! And you know she hates you…but i tell you Jim it’s not anything..she’s just sick, man…" but Jason knew Jim understood. He never spoke much when his mother was around.

Jim never spoke much anyway.

"You know Jim, i am really grateful you are with me through all…."

Suddenly the door flew open. A bright light entered the room, and lingered about with the particles of dust that had earlier claimed territory of the room. Jason jerked back in shock of the sudden sound of the door. Noise and sudden loud interruptions always made him feel agitated. At the door, his mother, father and his brother Jackson stood with a look undefined. It was a face mixed emotions would have had if it was a person. Their faces spoke of anger, empathy, sympathy, struggle, desperation. His mother ran forward screaming and crying.

"HE IS DOING IT AGAIN!! HE IS DOING IT AGAIN!! MAKE HIM STOP IT!!"

Jason was all too familiar with his mother’s condition. She went mad everytime Jason spoke to someone else. She screamed and cried and threw a tantrum with the slightest things like this. It was her condition. She was sick. Jason was trying to help.

"Mom…relax..please..we are just talking of the old days..you can ask Jim, mom…look at him…He’s back after a long time" Jason always tried to clear the animosity between his mother and Jim. But Jim always kept quiet. Jim kept quiet most of the time.

"I DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR JIM!! I AM GONNA THROW THAT PIECE OF SHIT OUT OF YOUR ROOM!! NOW!!! " the mother summoned for his brother to muscle Jim out from the room. But Jackson didn’t dare. He never dared. Or maybe he understood. But Jason never cared, as long as Jim is treated with respect. It’s his friend.

Jason turned to his father. "Dad, i was thinking…Mom needs help, dad…can we bring her to a doctor? I think she needs medicine…"

His father, a slight man with wrinkles of worries written all over his face, looked forlorn and resigned.

"Yes, son. That is why we are here. To tell you about the doctor. We will get some help. RIghtaway."

"That’s great news, dad. I was just telling Jim about it. She needs help. She really does…" Jason looked at his mom with sympathy, she was panting with anger and frustration. Jackson, whom she called to help her throw his friend out was now holding her back. The mood of the room was pretty tense and heated. But Jason felt hope. His mother is going to see the doctor.

At the hospital, Jason was asked to wait outside the doctor’s room, as he was not old enough to go into the doctor’s office. He said no problem, as long as his mother was attended to. He watched from behind the glass door. His mother was speaking a lot, his father occasionally, and Jackson was just silent. Silent Jack, but a pillar of strength to the family, just like his father, he thought. The doctor glanced occasionally at Jason, and he wished the doctor would invite him in.

He wished Jim was by his side.

Finally, the doctor signalled to a nurse. She came walking towards the door. Upon opening it, she invited him in. Ah, it worked! The doctor must have seen my face and understood, Jason told himself.

"So Jason, you really want your mother to be cured, dont you?"

"Well, of course doctor, more than anything"

Jason felt a bit nervous, as he felt eyes all over him. Stares always made him agitated. He started taking off his glasses and wiping it with the edge of his sleeves.

Suddenly, he felt his arms being held. Tightly. Three male nurses and the doctor moved forward and held him in a violent manner. Jason’s initial response was to fight back, but he didnt understand what was going on. And then he felt the slight poke on his arms. There was a needle. Everything became a blur. His last sight was of his mother crying and her worrysome look.

Jason opened his eyes. He was lying down in a white room, filled with beds with white bedsheets. The lights were too bright, the sounds around him were too muffled. He tried to find his bearings. On his left, he saw his whole family, in a unified attention. On his right was the doctor. He tried to stand up, but his hands were tied to the bed. He couldn’t understand this. Is this all a bad dream? He closed his eyes again.

His past memories came streaming in his thoughts. He remembered his early childhood spent in lonely games. He remembered the time he used to play roller-coaster-boaster. It was a way of sitting on the chair with the two front legs of the chair in mid-air. And he recalled the time he fell backwards once, and hit his head on the sharp edge of the table.

That’s when he discovered Jim, his favourite chair, actually could speak. And his days have never been lonely since. Funny that Jim made him fall, and decided to help him out of his loneliness.

And then he thought of his mother. And he wished they would cure her. And that she would accept Jim. And they will live happily ever after.

FIN.