Penning words after about a coupla months..I wrote the following piece during a particularly dreary afternoon at office..I hope it doesnt show..Its actually an entry for a short story competition and hence is destined to be intense as i actually want it to win..And anyone who likes it feel free to tell me so.. others go take a long hike in banerghatta road..I promise not to tell anyone!..

GOD

It was a dark and gloomy Sunday morning with the sun nowhere to be seen, as dark clouds loomed menacingly over the metro. Rajesh winced. The neighbourhood temple had decorated the entire street for the celebration of some God’s birth. Rajesh plodded slowly with his seven-year-old son in tow. This was their special Sunday morning ritual and he didn’t want anyone to spoil it; and definitely not God. The temple had decided to provide the early risers, wisdom of the centuries through a blaring loud speaker. Rajesh stopped. His son, seven-year-old Arjun had halted. He pursed his lips and tugged his father’s hand “What is it Arjun?” Arjun refused to see his dad. He whimpered and his eyes instantly watered the way only a seven-year-old’s can. A small trickle flowed through his shoes and the dry ground darkened as it absorbed the fluid. Rajesh controlled the rage that was building inside him. He lifted Arjun up “Its Ok kutti, don’t be ashamed it’s not your fault. Come let daddy change your pants”. Arjun refused to look at his dad his head bobbed slowly side-to-side as his hands trembled. “ Arjun its ok. Now let me change your pants” Rajesh found himself hollering at the little soul. He refused and stood steadfast planting his legs awkwardly and looking down at the small puddle of urine. Rajesh exploded, the last one month had been much more than what he could bear “Are you happy now?” he screamed skyward “When will you stop this madness. What have I done to deserve this?” He broke down and sobbed. Arjun could not understand his father’s outburst and tried consoling him “Abba, abba” he mumbled incoherently and tried to pat his father’s head failing rather miserably.

Arjun had cerebral palsy. His tiny body was racked by seizures almost everyday and he could not control his limbs. His tiny mind was imprisoned in this useless body. He had no control over his bladder or bowels and could not speak in spite of being able to understand what was being told to him. His mother was killed a month ago in a road accident and he still waited for her to return everyday. Arjun blamed himself for his mother’s disappearance and had refused to eat for almost 15 days. Rajesh recovered slowly “Sorry da kanna, Appa is not angry with you, it’s just that sometimes when he is tired he loses patience. Now be a good boy and let me change your pant “. Arjun who did not want his father to disappear either nodded obediently and held on to his father. “Where is Arjun going today?” Rajesh asked in an attempt to make up for his behavior. ” Paa” , came the enthusiastic reply. Arjun loved these Sunday mornings when he could go to the nearby park .It was the only time of the week when he could go outside and sit on his favorite blue bench. “What will Arjun do in the park?” asked Rajesh in a tone that any parent in the world would recognize instantly. “baa”. ”How high can Arjun kutti throw the ball?”. Arjun raised his hand as far as he could and his eyes twinkled with the memory and the knowledge that he was going to the park soon. Rajesh smiled, his desolate life was sustained purely on the basis of special moments like this. He couldn’t help but think of how his entire world had collapsed around him after the death of his wife. No, he couldn’t go down that lane. It was too painful. As usual he found his sadness turning to anger in moments as he directed his wrath towards the only direction any helpless man could-God. He had been a believer and coming from an orthodox family had ensured that the household was forever observing holy rituals no one ever understood or dare questioned. His father had tried consoling him after Priya’s death “God operates in mysterious ways, questioning them will not get you anywhere. You have a son to take care, and a life to live. Have faith in God and everything will heal over time.” He had blasted out at his father, thrown every image, statue or any object bearing God in it. His fury had abated but he had been wronged and no one could set that right.

The weather eased as the sun made a feeble attempt to break through the clouds. It failed.

“Nehru Children’s Park” read the board. It had seen better times clearly. Arjun bounded along arms and legs flailing. He was excited on seeing the familiar entrance. The few birds that occupied the surrounding trees peered out cautiously, bemused that the Sun wasn’t out as yet. A mild breeze stirred the treetops and blew across the face of a father and his son who slowly moved to the blue bench. Arjun was almost ecstatic at the sight of his bench, Rajesh had to hold him and calm him down lest he hurt himself. A loud appeal made itself heard through out the park “Howwwwzzzaaat?”, Rajesh cursed under his breath “Damn summer holidays”. The schools had closed for the summer and the last thing Rajesh wanted was a bunch of screaming kids spoiling his special time with his son. He recalled with a slight shudder, how a couple of nephews of his had run around the whole Marriage hall screaming “Arjun is mad” to just about anyone who would listen to them. Children could be cruel and Rajesh only knew that too well. Arjun was curious; he had never seen anyone playing here at this hour. He wanted to know who made the appeal. He pulled his father’s hand and pointed towards the direction of the noise, which was rising every minute. The appeal had been successful and the players were celebrating the fall of the wicket. Rajesh sighed, he knew that he had been hard on his son that morning and wanted to set things right and besides Arjun had alighted the bench anyway. With slight trepidation on how the kids would react and on a deep paternal sadness that his son could not join them he walked behind Arjun who was dragging him. They walked up a mound, which lent the name “Hill Park” to this place amongst kids. The noise was beyond the “hill”.

As they reached the top of the hill he groaned. There was a bunch of unruly kids most definitely younger than ten. They seem to be rather impoverished and were dirty in a way that rag pickers would have been proud of. They were enjoying a game of cricket with a rubber ball and a very crudely fashioned wooden bat. Their faces however were sparkling with the bliss that comes out of having nothing to worry about. Rajesh however wasn’t impressed. He did not want his son to be jeered at or gawked at by this bunch of rowdy ten year olds. He turned to leave and was surprised. Arjun was mesmerized, his mouth was wide open and his eyes had a strange glint about them. Having never visited any school or “special” school for that matter he led a rather peaceful life inside the confines of his three bedroom flat. This was a spectacle he had never witnessed, So many kids and all as small as him! He refused to budge and clung on tightly to his father. Rajesh didn’t want another outburst and he decided that five minutes couldn’t do much harm and besides he didn’t want to upset Arjun again. So they sat and watched.

The match was between two rival factions of the same neighborhood and they had bet five rupees on this match. The match had a kind of passion, which only a five-rupee note and cricket could induce in ten year olds. The team batting first had scored twenty-three runs in six overs and the second team after a decent start had lost its way with a score of sixteen for four. Each team had six members and since single batsmen could bat they had two wickets to go and eight runs to chase. The pair scored four quick runs in three balls and had the batting team in frenzy. Arjun who had decided to root for the batting team was the most raucous supporter shouting and cheering on the little slip of a batsman. By now a good part of the field was staring at this little boy who was babbling incoherently like a baby. However the presence of his father made them nervous and they stayed away. The fifth wicket fell amid much protest that the ball had been a “dead ball”. Arjun’s disappointment was evident to everyone present there as he wailed in protest and started trembling in disappointment. Tears flowed down his red cheeks as he started crying aloud.” Arjun its alright kanna its only a game, See all the boys are looking at you they’ll think you are a bad boy” consoled Rajesh who hadn’t expected his son to be so passionate about cricket. The cricketers had stopped playing. The boys were staring at this strange boy who was crying for the loss of their wicket. One of the boys who seemed like the oldest amongst them approached Arjun cautiously,” Do you want to play with us?” Rajesh who was about to tell the boy that it was not possible saw his son’s face and stopped. Arjun had stopped crying and was nodding enthusiastically, his arms thrashing about his trembling body. The kid then took Arjun’s hand and led him to the field ignoring Rajesh altogether. The kid took him to the center of the pitch and asked the batsman to give him the bat. The puzzled players understood what was going on and immediately started cheering Arjun. The batsman readily gave him the bat and helped him hold it. The bowler came forward a few steps and stood and all the fielders gathered around the bat. Arjun was almost delirious with joy. The bowler bowled underarm very slowly. The ball lobbed up and the four hands that held the bat gave a wild swing and missed completely. “Last ball, four runs required” announced the oldest boy. Arjun was shaking tremendously and the kid holding the bat had to steady him by holding his arms.

The last ball was bowled. It was a low full toss. The bat fashioned a rather awkward looking square drive and it connected. The boy and Arjun ran like crazy. The fielders ran behind the ball and seem to follow it for longer than that was necessary. Arjun jumped hopped and dragged his uncontrollable feet for a second run. The fielder stopped the ball, turned around excruciatingly slowly and threw the ball wide of the wicket keeper. The wicket keeper did an expansive dive in an effort to catch the ball and let it go through him.” Overthrow, keep running “, screamed the batting captain. Arjun who was now drooling and screaming; ran like he had never run in his life. The ball, which was stopped again, was thrown to the bowler’s end with Arjun screaming his way to the third run. The bowler caught the ball and threw it towards the keeper. Arjun who was watching the ball stumbled and almost fell but the bowler caught him and turned him around. The effort had exhausted him and he almost dropped due to exhaustion. Around him twelve young voices screamed at him to finish the run as the steady breeze now almost became a wind. The keeper threw the ball towards the stumps and the ball missed by a ridiculously large margin to run far away from any fielder. This rejuvenated Arjun and amidst the loudest cheers the park had heard in its forty-year-old history he completed the final run. The boys lifted him on their shoulder and cheered for him. They carried him on a victory lap as he breathlessly exulted in his greatest moment. At the edge of the field stood a lone man, tears streaming down his face. He looked up and smiled, he had made his peace with God. He had seen God.

The Sun was out of the clouds and now shining brightly over a father and son locked in a tight embrace.