The Unconsoled* - A tribute

It is difficult to pick a moment and carve it in gold as the split second when it all changed - but if I have to pick the moment when I understood how much I loved her, it has to be now - when I see her laugh for the last lame joke, how her lips curved even before she understood the joke, and a second later I notice the joke dawn on her, first in her eyes that widen a trifle and then glide to her nostrills and then to her lips which by now frame a well aligned set of beautiful teeth. She rocks back and forth, holding her stomach, the hair carefully tucked behind her ears drawing a dark line now across her face. She stops suddenly and in the bluish gleam of the TV that fills the room, I catch her expression - there's a half smile on her face as if she read my mind. She snuggles between my face and shoulder and gives a half moan that is a question, a statement, an exclaimation and a sigh at the sametime (an impossibility accomplished only by a woman)

She continues to laugh, and intersperses them with words - which in a sane world will amount to gibberish - and I sit there holding her, watching our entire life playing itself before my eyes. Suddenly, it was probably something she said, I feel I have been here before and we have had this same conversation before. I faintly remember that it ended in an argument in the end. The whole memory seems a blur but real enough not to be a dream or a deja vu. However hard I try, the details slip me by a whisker, and lying there I was getting increasingly frustrated at my inability in not being able to remember the exact moment.

I am not sure how long I spent trying to remember the moment - but when I came out of my reverie it was already beginning to dawn outside. The red curtains were silhouetted with a crimson streak as if on fire. Suddenly I realized that I had a whole day waiting in front me and that I haven't had a wink of slip. As soon as that realization dawned, I felt weighed under a heavy pall of fatigue and stress. I try to make a mental itinerary of the things that I have to do but was too tired to even think and before the curtains caught fire, I was fast asleep.

By the time I was awake, it was dusk. The house was empty and the last rays of sun were on their way out. The TV was switched off, and the house was dusted. For a moment, I was scared if I had slept through the whole day. I looked around for her, straining to hear any sound signalling her presence in the house. Suddenly, it didn't matter. I opened the door and braced the chill evening wind, working out a foggy idea of where I have to go. I had to be at the rehearsal, I remembered but didn't have a clue how I could reached there on time. And after what seemed like eternity, the brown doors of the lift opened and an empty chamber invited me. As soon as I got in, I noticed something I had never noticed before. The mirror on the rear wall was a door leading where, I knew not. The lift stopped suddenly and a very preoccupied elderly gentleman got in. He had had a bitter fight with his daughter, Jenny and had sworn never to get back to the house again. And just before he got into the lift, he looked back at the door to see whether his grandson was there at the door asking him to come back. This was not the first time such a thing has happened. As a matter of fact, much to the discomfort of everyone this has become a regular occurence these days. But the old man knew this would never happen again - his grandson was not there at the door this time. Even he's lost faith in the old man and now, he had no reason to fight. I could see that he wanted to talk to me about all this but I was afraid - knowledge of someone's life is not much information as much as it's a responsibility. Suddenly, in a desperate attempt to shake off the reverie, he smiled at me and asked me where I had to go. I told him that I had to be at the school for my rehearsal but had no clue how to reach there. He beamed and said that I could take the glass door in the lift and that would take me faster to the school.

I took his words (for I had no other choice) and opened the door - For a moment, it was pitch dark and then slowly I could see that there was a road that was getting better with every step. And soon vehicles streamed in from all directions and the road was jam packed. I hopped into a bus and found myself an empty seat. I peered out of the window and realized I was very close to the school, and that I was very close to the cinema hall where I was supposed to meet Kalyani later this week. The roads were surprisingly busy for such a time of the day and the traffic was inching slowly till my eyes could reach. Suddenly, I felt someone tap on my shoulder and realized it was Arun who was sitting next to me. I also remembered that his house warming ceremony was to happen sometime this week in the little town where I grew up. He looked sullen and without greetings or warnings, started talking. The ceremony was canceled he said, because everyone refused to come. I wanted to explain to him how I was too held up to make it. But he wouldn't want to hear. He turned his face to the sprawling buildings and pretended I wasn't there which, right then, suited me fine.

After about an hour of silence, he started talking again - about the old days in school, about the fun we had and about how all of us are now in various corners of the world like strangers bound only by a flimsy thread of memory. He gave the same cold stare again, marking me as a chief culprit for the situation. I didn't reply because I knew I was to blame. I did try once to bring all of us together. But with time my efforts fizzled out and I knew I didn't try hard enough. I wanted to explain him all this but before I could, I realized he had left the bus and disappeared between the busy streets.

In a couple of minutes, the whole bus was empty and I was the lone one sitting there. The driver was patiently waiting for me to get out, smiling all the while an hoping the ride was not very inconvenient. After an entire day of misses, that little gesture felt like a kiss of first rain. I thanked him profusely, opened the rickety blue gates and went in. There under the century old tree, I could see everyone sitting and working on their parts. I was late but no one seemed to be angry about it. Kalyani's ammachi came and told me it was ok and that it happens to everyone once in a while. Probably it was the events of the day, or the kindness of her voice I held her hand and wept like a child. And from the corner of the eye, I could see kalyani and ramu sitting on a red stool and playing their parts with gaiety. It must be a silly joke, but they were laughing about like there was no pain in this world. And that moment, it all felt ok, like the world was cleansed forever of malaise and sorrow. Right then, kalyani looked up at me and smiled and Ramu waved at me with his script. I wiped my tears, waved back and started walking towards them, for the first time being completely sure that all is going to be fine from now.

*The Unconsoled - 1995 (Fiction) - Kazuo Ishiguro