My Dayanara

I was feeling used. There were so many other engineers. It was not like I was exquisite in my work of art or anything. My designs were just basic, the kinda ones that any middle class fellow owning a car would like to live in. A veranda for the kids to play, a car parking spot, a living room with 2-3 bedrooms and maybe a little garden for the old woman in the house to spend her time planting roses or tomatoes. But that was not what my boss wanted. This time the contract was let by a minister and my boss' company was lucky enough to accept this project but foolish enough to choose me make the designing.
    I heard a lot about the minister and his trysts with quite a few women and it was the least of my concerns. What concerned me most was that he was going to build a monument of love for his beloved wife Malaika just like Shah Jahan did for Mumtaz. But I wondered about the love aspect here and also it's just a mansion, he is a fool to think it's a monument. Monuments are raised to show respect for someone. They were just building a house to live in! Why exaggerate? Well maybe he really does love his wife more than he does his concubines and wants to build a extremely beautiful structure to spend his life with her.
   There were definitely many talented architects and engineers in our company but I was the chosen one!

I had a month's time to complete my design. I tried the best I could and submitted it a week later, but I was surprised to see my boss tear it away. He wanted something special, he wanted a kind of building that has never been before. How could he choose me and force this onto me even when he knew I was just basic? And how could I create something that has never been before? I haven't seen all the structures in this world to possess that kind of knowledge, or else not even the structures in my city. I haven't traveled much. I work hard just to feed myself and my loving wife, I wish I could build a mansion for her too. But my love has kept her covered from all storms of life and we do not need any fancy house for that.

  I started re working on my design. This time I tried gaining as much knowledge as I could. I looked up on the internet and found rich men owning  beautifully crafted mansions and bungalows. The more I looked, the more I wondered how they made that much money and why I still suffer to make a living. Nonetheless, I came up with a beautiful design of a structure that had mixtures from various bungalows that I looked upon. But I was scared that this would't be accepted too. This was a really large project and if I did succeed I was sure I'd get paid pretty well. But everyday I still wondered why they chose me. Maybe because I was the most punctual and obedient person on the team. Nevertheless, I was going to get paid in huge cash and that's all I was waiting for.

 This is the third week and I am taking my design to my boss. To my surprise, the minister himself is also present. I am really terrified. But I am also confident because I did my little research and put in as much ideas as I could. Thanks to my wife for keeping my company all night while I was working, or else I wouldn't have completed this. There are a lot of thoughts in my mind right now. Will the boss accept my design? Will it be too extravagant? Will the minister like it? Will he remove me from my job if he doesn't? What will I do if my job is gone? What will I tell my pregnant wife? How will I find another job so soon before my child is born? Will I be able to feed my family? This design had the power to change my life situation. I am standing outside my boss' chamber and these are the thoughts that are screaming in my mind. I now for once regret accepting this project but I guess I don't have the power to decline it either. There must have been someone better on the team.
My boss calls me and I go in. Definitely nervous. How can I not be? I lay the design onto the glass table and across the table stands the minister with the same kind of white shirt he always wears. But there is something in his face. He is annoyed. And so is my boss. But I can see that the minister is more angered than my boss because obviously it is his mansion. I realized I had messed up again. This is not what the minister had expected either. He wants the structure to be as beautiful as his love for his wife. This is the gift he wants to give to his beloved. I wonder why can't he buy her a car instead or hire some better company to design and build the mansion. He wants the mansion to express his love to her. He wants it to be a symbol of his love to her. He threw away the papers and also threatens my life. How can he do that? I'm just a simple worker and how can he kill me for just not being creative enough? My life is far more worth than this stupid house. I cannot even imagine the plight of my wife without me. He gives me a week's time to come up with a exquisite design or else will get me killed! This is the most insane thing ever. I knew ministers were ruthless but I never knew they were this inhumane.He could just pass on the job to someone else. I will gladly reject this pointless drama. But he has no time for it. He needs me to finish it within a week. My time is ticking.


As I walk down the roadway to home, I remember the angelic face of my beloved wife Dayanara. I imagine the plight I will put her through. Her love for me is too deep that she overlooks the pain and struggle we go through. I met her in a music class that my father forced me to join when I was 18. Obviously I discontinued after a month. Music was not for me. But that didn't stop me from going to the music class. I went there every week and waited outside to see her. She would come out early before her dad would arrive to pick her. I can never forget those short night walks that we took after her classes. She would admire the moon and I would admire her. She never wanted anything from me but my presence. I love the way she held my hand as we walked through the cold breeze. Sometimes I would also get her things to eat. It was a simple love story like anybody else's. But it was deep. I had her on my mind always, as my wife. That's what I wanted her to be and now she is. We definitely had to go through a lot to end up together. Her family was supportive; but mine wasn't. I knew what I wanted and I fought really hard to make her mine. We've been married for 7 years and it is only now that she has conceived. It is great joy indeed, she is due next week and I can't wait to experience the joy of childbirth. She is my family and she is all I have. But I am nervous that I have two things to take care of next week, one being the stupid life threatening project and the other my pleasant loving presence of a child at home. Which one should I concentrate on? I need to finish this project and also take care and be there for my beloved wife in her most critical moment. She's been there for me always, how can I not be there for her now?

I reach home and explain my situation to her. She is worried as I thought she would be. "We still have 6 more days, plus your creative mind, we will figure something out", she said. Her words strengthen me I don't know why.It is Wednesday and I haven't come up with a plan yet.  For the past two days, my wife has been more loving than ever. She was loving, but now she's lovelier. Like as if it is our last days together. She has been making me feel like I have nothing to worry about and that I am a lucky enough person with all that I want. She has been cooking all my favorite dishes and has been treating me like a child while she is the one who deserves that kind of treatment right now. She is not in a position with enough strength to work or cook but I don't know why she has been doing it. I let her do what she pleases or she would spend the rest of the night murmuring and complaining about how petty I am. Above all, she is strongly urging me to complete my design. It is a bit annoying that every chance she gets to speak, it is about the design. She knows that this will change our lives, I will definitely get paid in huge amount and that would sure help the baby. Raising a kid is no joke, this money could really help us. She wants us to have a better life. We are happy with what we have,yes, but we would be happier if the child has better than us. I sit down all night and I can't come up with something creative. She trusts in me more than I do myself and no matter what, she wants me to finish it.

It's Friday, 5 pm, and now she's in pain. What!? I thought the baby wasn't supposed to come out until next Monday or so. It is 4 days early now. Maybe it's not too early or maybe there are some complications. But 4 days early can't do no harm I guess. My project is the last thing on my mind right now. I do not care a bit about it. It's my wife, she needs me, she's my family. As I rush her to the hospital, I see her family awaiting us. Her mom has an angered look because I didn't let her daughter to their home during the last trimester so that she could've given better care. I wanted to be there for my wife throughout, not send her away like as though I was incapable of treating her like the princess her mother treats her. Nobody seems to think of any complications as these kind of deliveries are normal among a large group of women. 4 days early is not a big issue. I sigh in relief because I was really worried about it. As we wait in the hospital lounge, my parents arrive. Everybody is waiting to congratulate me that I'm finally a dad. Well, I've been waiting for this moment for the past 7 years. Can't wait to see them both and I definitely can't wait to take them back home. My cousins are already excited with a list of names for my child. I've never prayed this hard in my life, this moment, such an unforgettable one. I do not know if I'm ready for this, I don't know how to react. There is already this overwhelming joy that I can't contain. My heart is racing and so is my feet, I cant't keep moving and I can't keep waiting. I want to kiss my child and I can't wait and I'm sure my child can't wait to get out and meet me too. I would introduce him/her to this beautiful world where I and Dayanara met, loved, and created a masterpiece symbolizing our eternal love. I can't wait to meet them both... but they're dead. Yes. They died an hour ago and I will never believe it. My wife is still in there and my child too. They are waiting to meet me and I'm waiting to hear my baby cry so that I could run past the doors and hug them both. Why is everyone trying to convince me they are dead? No they aren't. I am still praying, I know it will hurt a lot but Dayanara is a strong girl and she can bear it. She can bring forth the most beautiful child ever. We created it and how can it be dead? Our love is immortal and so is my wife and child. If they are dead, how could I possibly still be alive and breathing? I can't wait to see my baby with the new clothes that I bought last week. It's a little pink one that came with 2 little socks that is only as the size of my thumb. How can my baby be dead? My Dayanara.



I want to be with my family. I need my wife and kid, I want us to be a family. But before that, I have one little job that my wife always wanted me to finish. Yes, that life threatening project that could've got me killed, but is useless now 'cos I already feel dead. My home feels empty. For the past 14 years I've been in love with an angel. Her presence in this house had made me feel like I matter and that I'm worthy. Her absence makes me not want to be here, but I have nowhere to go. Where would I be without my Dayanara? What would I do? Her clothes are all that is left, I couldn't afford to buy her decent jewelry too; she never asked for one. Our love was sufficient for each other to keep us warm from the cold storms in life but she has now left me freezing to die.

   I take a pencil, definitely angered and draw a final design for her sake. She wanted me to, this is the last thing I can do for her. I imagine her, her body, her love, that is all is in front of my eyes. How she held my arms on that cold night, how she laid on my chest and laughed after listening my heart beat and mocked saying "What does your heart say? Does it say Daya..Daya..Daya..Daya..?". The paper is soggy with my tears but I least care. I just need to draw. Every curve and every edge of the diagram describes her body; that's how I see it. The lamp posts would be as brighter and attractive as my Daya's eyes. The pillars of the house will be as strong as her legs that walked with me until now. The iron bars of the gates will be as smooth as her fingers that entwined with mine. The color of the mansion is the color of my beloved. The walls will be as shiny as her skin on a summer day. The dome of the mansion will forever be as holy as the belly of my wife that carried my child. I draw every single line and curve in memory of the love of my wife. I do not know if the design is good or bad but I am done with it. It's 6am, Sunday, and I meet up with the Minister, his wife and my boss to submit my final design and at this point I don't even care if I get killed. What's there left of me to die?
To my surprise, the design has been accepted and everyone has been congratulating me but I can't hear anything. I return home. Thanks to my Dayanara for her shawl that is as strong as any rope to hang myself with and go to her. My wife was an angel and she went to heaven, her home. And I want to go back to my family. After a day's long work, or any thing that you do, you go back home to your family, that's what people do. I have done my job, I need to meet my family. They are waiting for me more than I waited for them at the hospital that day. My Daya needs me.
Bye.

P.S: Modern adaptation of a conspiracy of the life of an engineer who worked under Shah Jahan.

Great people suffer in SILENCE.

Its Three am.
Such an odd time to experience odd thoughts.
I've been sitting here contemplating my life. Such a lonely place I've been in since a very long time. 8 study tables, 8 chairs, two well lit tube lights (which if goes off will send chills down my spine and make me go running out the corridor into my room),a ceiling fan which is the only other noise I can hear apart from my breath and oh well this disgusting sound that my friend's laptop is making, It's a pretty big room for a person to be sitting alone at this hour. Nevertheless I am enjoying the little details.
   I also forgot to mention that crows caw at three am. Seriously. The wind in the hallway is slamming all the iron doors and scaring the hell out of me. Silence. That's what this is all about. I want to write about the silence I listen now. Its pretty loud and it damn well surpasses all the other little stupid noises around.
The main reason I am up now is to study for my tomorrow's exam. I am the only one (I guess) in my entire hostel to be doing this right now 'cos I see nobody else in any other study rooms as well.

Let me get to the point of why I am writing this. First of all; I am bored. Yes but there's something beyond my comprehension here. What can silence and seclusion do to a person? Why am I choosing to study at these hours when I am almost free for pretty much 12 hours during the day or while everyone else studies? I am scared to be alone. Or "was". Things have changed a lot lately & I have discovered that I ain't scared of anything rather than this Silence. This silence is killing me. Like literally. I want to kill myself. I used to think that mirrors reflect you the best, but I was wrong. It's silence that does. Silence makes you feel worthless because it is in silence that you remember every awkward thing you did since your childhood. And its not interesting because I've pretty much did the worst possible things with my life. And I certainly don't want to be recalling it right now. But why do people enjoy self-hate? How did I succumb to this feeling?

I used to love me. I used to feel beautiful, I really used to (mostly cos my ex made me feel so). But I've lost it all. I am not able to stand in front of the mirror and look at myself anymore. This is not an exaggeration people, it happens! I can't look at my arms without wanting to cut it, numerous times, deep. I really don't want to be sitting here thinking about dying while everyone else is having their beauty sleep. I have never upto this point in my life hated myself this deep. At first I thought I just wanted to cut myself without wanting to die. But the more I did it, the more I realized I deserve more of that pain. And later started to realized I don't deserve this skin itself, also the flesh or bones, spare the heart I wish I had one! I'm just an embodiment of depression. That's all that's in me. And thanks to this silence, I can see myself clearly. I'm starting to remember every lie I told my parents, every little disgusting thing I've done so far and it definitely its't pleasing to me and I really hate myself.

So, please do not get closer to silence, it will take you away forever.

P.S: This is not a note of self-pity.

Sadness

What is sadness?

Sadness isn't just feeling low.

Sadness is feeling worthless even when you are the best student in your class.

Sadness is staring at your fingernails in class because it is the only attractive thing around. And you can't even look at it for a long time because you try to find a fault with it too.

Sadness is lying on your bed with blanket on and facing the wall with eyes closed but no sleep. You just want to lie there without disruption. You start to draw scenes of your disgusting life on the wall and realize the wall can't handle such filth too.

Sadness is having a face without a smile or a frown. That in between face. Where you suddenly forget how to form a smile or a frown. You realize that how all of a sudden it is such a hard task for you to even open your lips to utter a single word. A single Yes or No. 

Sadness is that throbbing pain in your chest that is accompanied with weakness in your thighs. Everyone around seems to be in another world while you are cornered by an unknown force to succumb to these fits of overwhelming pain. Yes sadness is experienced physically too.

Sadness is not only for people who can cry easily. Strong people experience great sadness and it is a greater task for them to deal with it 'cos they do not use tears as a means of escape. Now imagine the trauma of having kept in all those tears and pain.

Sadness is wanting to self destruct but fearing to. You want to cut yourself but you don't want your mother to cry. So you decide to destruct your heart instead. 

Sadness isn't just a feeling. Sadness kills.

Faces

So many faces, many more voices
But I look for yours.
Just one heart, that too in pieces
Will you make it yours?

Closer our bodies, farther the spaces
Let's take away our fears.
You gave love, discovered my places
And I gave you tears.

Go far away, hold down your urges
Or I will etch in you scars.
Look at the moon, wish for other faces
For there are always other stars.

Roots.

You have rooted yourself within me and I within you. And roots don't fall out easy though the tree is tossed and toppled by the wind or storm. Your roots have managed to hold my heart so strong because you have taken all the time to dig to the deepest parts of my heart and plant yourself therein. Now if you plan to pluck yourself out, you know the consequences. Any plant while pulled out, will take some soil along. But my heart is a very small place and you have conquered all. Every corner. Your roots will drip my blood and soul if you pull yourself away & a part of me will always be yours. But maybe it is the right thing to do, when you're planted in the wrong place, the wrong heart. The heart realizes or the plant does, whoever, must suggest removing the dear plant. You are a sapling my dear and you need to grow into a big large gigantic fruitful tree. And that will not be possible when planted in the wrong soil.
You are the perfect plant and I'm the imperfect soil. :(

Hey you!

Your smile is so sharp to cut through my heart; I had covered it with thick layers of ignorance.
But your little laughter somehow finds a path through the deepest places. Your words will not be necessary to woo me. Just that lovely smile and that heart tickling laughter livens my heart.
I find atleast a little amount of beauty in every human but I never found a laughter this killing. Your smile freezes my heart. And that's the problem now, I do not want the frozen heart to break and not go back to its shape.
I've just healed. Recently have I given myself a decent shape. So don't you dare think I will let a smile ruin that. But damn those deep eyes and that heart piercing sound of your laughter. I wouldn't mind breaking my heart just once more. My dear.