Monday blues

Do you miss me as much as I miss you? What do you do when you think about me?! Do you smile?! Do you chuckle?! Do you nod your head with hopelessness?! I so wish that I can get into your mind and see me, as you see me – my divine lover!

Sunday Night (22:00 hours)

Pari was lying down on the porch looking at the starlit sky, with her head resting on her hand. She was lost in a whirlpool of thoughts, before she broke the silence.

“I wonder why people call it ‘Monday blues’, we can call it the black Monday, right?”

“Black means we are mourning, and that I totally am, but I wouldn’t associate ‘Monday’ to blue, Krishna. I mean blue is your colour, how can it denote this horrible day, right?  What am I? Nuts!” continued Pari in an exasperated, but careless tone.

With an annoying chuckle, Kay interceded with a whisper, “Erm, I am basically blackish blue, you know!”

“Uff… my bad, but you get my point, right? It’s just that Krishna, how can there be a Monday after a Sunday? The logic doesn’t match.” grumbled Pari.

If Pari was adept at anything, it was making space for fabricated fantasy worlds between her grey cells, or finding illogical logics. She loved her dreamy escapades, be it to the moon craters, or the Azkaban prison. Even if it’s as simple as dodging the squirmy looks of a guy who fancies her, or making her mother send her to a movie, she must make a tale out of it.

If anyone dared questioned, an impromptu answer would come forth, “It’s a ‘Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious syndrome, what’s life without hullabaloo and some spices, eh?”

Krishna, a spice mixture Himself, knew what delicacy to give to Pari, exactly when and how. He liked her free-spirited thinking, her gallant way of opposing the rights and wrongs, her disconsolate doubts on Karma theory, her gullible self when it comes to loving others, her vivacious weekend moods, or the way she feigned her initial fears when she confronted Krishna for the first time. More than all, He liked to tease her, and excite her crazy self.

Though quite a mystifying mystic herself, or at least she thinks of herself that way, Pari took extra comfort when around the people she loved, and spoke about random things. This time it was Krishna, and she didn’t want Him to go.

“Now you have problems with calendars? Interesting! Very well then, what would you do if tomorrow was a Sunday?” teased Krishna.

“Well, I feel like going on an adventure trip, you know, just you and me.” said Pari in a wistful tone.

“Already? I thought we just went for one yesterday?!” said an astonished Krishna.

“What do you mean already? Can you cut some slack for us please, my dear reverential one? I accept you gave me a wonderful ride in the parkadal, but we mortals don’t have everyday adventure. What’s with the 5 headed snake that talks, which is also a floating water-bed of sorts, flying chariots, and such other things.” said Pari gravely.

“Ha ha! I am going to call you Ms. Grumpy-little-whining-bird!” mocked Krishna.

“I am grumpy? Must I say that you are becoming lazier by the day Mr. Fatso!” added Pari ready for a battle.

“You are calling me fatso? Explain to me please…” said Krishna, waiting to catch her off-guard, as He knew where this was heading.

“Sorry. What to do dude, I can’t keep the truth to myself. It came in a flow, but to answer your question: I do know what you did after Krishnashtami… Does the word ‘treadmill’ ring some bell?” asked Pari in a soft voice, her eyes twinkling in excitement.

Pari was, as she called herself, the bakra of Krishna’s pranks and jokes all the time, and this time, she knew she had the ball in her court. She didn’t want to throw it away, without making Mr. I-am-a-holy-butter-thief, pay for it.

“You were supposed to forget that you saw me” said a choked Krishna, not knowing how to get this girl out of His secret. Even if He was not choked, he feigned it really well, perhaps to please Pari’s whimsical ways.

“Well, that is a memory I am not willing to forget. I mean, how can I? I don’t think even Jerry would have had that amount of cheese. Just because everyone bathes with you gallons of butter, doesn’t mean you have to gorge every tiny morsel” exclaimed Pari, with a jubilant joy filling her voice, as she marveled at her own ‘to-be-accomplishment’.

“You are just jealous, cos nobody gave you anything. FYI: I only helped them finish what they offered to me, but look at what you did?” Krishna continued, all set to taunt His meany little girl pal.

“What did I do? I did nothing” said a defensive Pari, little disappointed, as she sensed the tables turning away, just as she was about to win her first ever ‘rag queen’ status. Oh! The disappointment…

Krishna’s sagacity had its charms, no doubt, but the much coveted bargain of dueling Mr. God and winning it was even more alluring. However, her Kahna was a master charmer, proficient in notoriousness, and quick wits. Did she really want to win against Him, or did she secretly wish that she get defeated?

True answer to that would be: Pari didn’t know.

She was never really bent upon finding an answer to that question, or what made Him knock her door that morning in October. She liked the attention she got any which way.

Pari always felt that when it came to love and faith, every heart had its own rhythm. “We don’t ever create the perfect rhythm” she used to say, “We just discover them one fine day when we see someone strolling in the inner most recess of our heart”. She liked to keep it that way, and if calling him a fatso, would give His attention to her, she wanted to make best use of it.

Krishna nudged her back to reality, and said, “You couldn’t even wait until the evening prayer sessions, and you were tailing your mum all day begging for seedais” reminded Krishna in a mockful tone.

“But she didn’t give, right?” retorted Pari ruefully.

“Ahem! Have you forgotten whom you are talking to? Let me rewind the days for you…” said Kay scornfully.

****

(Krishnashtami afternoon)

“Just a handful amma, I won’t ask again” pleaded Pari for the umpteenth time, as her mother blatantly refused to give her seedais, the South Indian savory that Krishna devout bhaktha-kotis make on Krishnashtami – the day that marks Krishna’s advent in Dwaparayuga.

“We can’t have them until we offer it to God” chided Mrs. Sushma, getting peeved by Pari’s childishness.

“I already waited for an hour amma, I can’t wait anymore. I made it; can’t I have it when I want? This is so unfair” moaned the girl in obstinacy.

“Excuse me! You made it?” stressed Sushma narrowing her eyes.

“Uh-oh! This doesn’t sound right”, Pari wistfully thought to herself. “Well… erm… you made it, but I helped in rolling them, right?” said Pari in a persuasive tone.  

“Yeah, that’s a lot of help. Thank you very much!” echoed Sushma sarcastically.

“Ma, please. I won’t pester you if you would give me just one tiny bit, I promise. It looks so yummy, and I am feeling hungry all the more by smelling it. You are my sweety pie, aren’t you? Just one tiny bit, that’s all I ask” said Pari with a desperate hope in her voice.

“Instead of buttering me, you can stop smelling and get out of the kitchen. I have other things to get my hands at” said an unconcerned Sushma, losing herself in the pile of kitchen work that lay before her for the auspicious evening.

Pari walked out in a fix, trying to figure out a way in which she could cajole her mom. It would have been a mere 15 minutes, but Pari walked into the kitchen again.

“What now?” asked Sushma in a very unwelcoming tone.

Pari was oblivious to her tone of indifference, she was eyeing the seedais, and even if it meant a lot of ordeal and humiliation, she will get that one seedai, or so she thought.

“Well, I was thinking about it and I must say, it makes sense, but ma, you are forgetting something, and so I will ask you a question” said Pari in a serious tone, as if not having seedais in the next minute, will bring an end to the world.

“Shoot!” said Sushma, as she had no other way, but to give in reluctantly.

“What day is it today?” asked a delighted Pari, vesting her hopes on her new-found idea.

“Do you even have a point?” mumbled her mother, only to be intervened by Pari with a solemn voice, “Ma, just answer my question.”

Known for her ironic temperament, Sushma answered “It’s Krishanshtami, where you are supposed to love Krishna and not the seedai.”

“Ma, you don’t have to add some spicy bits to irritate me.”

“Anyway, moving to the 2nd question, what did Krishna stand for?”

“Dharmic values” was her curt reply. “Like that’s the answer am looking for” moaned Pari to herself, and remarked, “Very good! What else?”

“I don’t know Pari, you don’t bug me now” said an irritated Sushma, wanting Pari to move out of the kitchen.

Pari didn’t give up.

“Ma, admit that you don’t know. Krishna represented mischief, and if on this day, I act all goody, He would be disappointed. He would want me to have seedais at the most inappropriate time” spoke a rebellious Pari, modulating her voice at every pause, and emoting with full vibrancy. A part of her was proud of her dramatics, a part relieved, and the other completely desperate. Just as Pari started rambling on and on about what Krishna stood for, Kay entered the scene.

“Uh-oh! What is He upto now?” thought an anxious Pari, getting distracted by Kay’s entrance.

“I represent mischief? You are selling me for a cup of seedais? My dear young lady, now I know why you failed in law. You just can’t speak, can you? Forget arguing civil cases in front of the magistrate” mocked Krishna in a cheerful tone.

Pari gave Kay an ‘am gonu kill ya’ look for a second, and decided to continue her dialogue that she had well rehearsed, “Well, where was I?”

“That I was a brat, and I represented mischief” whispered Kay, getting Himself comfortably seated on the kitchen table.

By now, Pari had forgotten all her lines, and came up with, “Oh yeah. He is a total brat amma, how can I, His devotee, be any different?”

“Stop manipulating His divine leelas Pari, I have had enough with you. What do you think calling Him a brat on this divine day? Just get out of the kitchen, am not giving you anything, not now, and not in the evening. I am going to pray to Him to give you good sense” reprimanded Sushma, absolutely furious with Pari’s ill-gotten ways.

Kay meanwhile, went into a fit of laughter, holding his stomach in sheer vain. He was quite enjoying Pari’s miserable plight, and to add to her annoyance, He grabbed few seedais from the oven and started munching them.

“Ma, don’t get philosophical now, that’s not what I meant. Anyway, for all you know, that Krishna of yours would have already started eating all the seedais. He can’t wait until the prayer time. Believe me.” said a disgruntled Pari.

Getting suspicious, Pari’s mom turned to the table, and to her utter shock found that the half of the bowl was empty. Her eyes were fuming with anger, “What has gotten into you Pari? Why have you taken the seedais despite my saying no?”

Pari didn’t know how to react, and with a pleading eye said, “No ma. I swear I didn’t do it. This Kris..”

“Hold it. If it’s one thing to eat before offering, it’s another thing to lie to your mother. Don’t speak to me, and don’t you dare bring the lord into all this” said Sushma in a loud voice, her face livid.

Pari felt miserable, she didn’t even want to look at Krishna. Not that she was mad at Him, she was mad at herself, and she hastily left the room.

Kay turned towards Sushma, and caressed her with a fatherly love, and her anger seemed to go away for no reason. She felt a slight tug at her tresses, but couldn’t find anybody around. Soon she busied herself in other chores, while Kay grabbed few more seedais from the oven, and marched to Pari’s room.

****

Pari heard a knock on the door, but there was an eerie silence as she waited for someone to speak up. She heard a gentle knock again on the door, and just as she stepped out of her cot, Krishna entered the room as if the door never existed.

“You could have done that in the first place, oh reverential one!” said an irked Pari.

“What fun would I have then?” said Krishna with a smile playing on His lips.

“Well, don’t tell me you are going to support amma now. I already am feeling miserable, thanks to you” said a disconsolate Pari.

“No. I came to give you something”, and before Pari could peep and see, what Kay had brought for her, He opened His huge benevolent hand that held safely a box of seedais.

“I flicked it from the kitchen, just for you” said Krishna in a loving tone.

“If ma finds me eating this, she would kill me” said Pari reproachfully.

“She won’t know. Don’t worry!” assuaged the divine one, using His timeless wisdom, just to give a bowl of seedais to a 20 something girl, who loved Him ever since she knew about Him.

Pari smiled awkwardly, and accepted what He offered graciously. “You really won’t mind if I ate it before the prayer session, would you?” asked Pari, her childish fears coming to the fore.

“Oh my! Don’t be a goody now, eat fast before your mum knocks the door” said a naughty Krishna.

****

Pari pushed the flashback cloud aside, and commented, “Gawd! Krishna! You remember way too much, that’s not gonu help me a lot, does it?” her child like giggles echoed through the place.

“Leave that aside. Now who is the fatty?” said Krishna, jumping straight to the point.

“Still it’s you!” winked Pari, not willing to accept His justification.

“Well, the treadmill would know better!” mocked Krishna.

“Yeah, whatever.” replied Pari with a playful air of indifference.

“Typical!” mumbled Krishna, as He knew very well the not-so-tactful ways of Pari in winning a battle against Him.

“What?” asked Pari with a quizzical brow.

“Nothing… you go to sleep princess, and have a good week at the workplace. I gotta run” said a smiling Krishna.

“Aww.. I am going to miss ya” said Pari with a puppy face.

“Well, whatever.” winked Kay sarcastically and zoomed off before Pari could react.

As Pari fell back on her bed, her lips embraced a sheepish smile yet again.

***

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