Monday, June 22, 2009

Lost in thoughts

I am quite happy with the sylvan surroundings. The benches under the big trees and the cool shade they afforded make my afternoons pleasant. I like solitude. I keep thinking to myself of many things and events in my life. However if you ask me to share them with you, I am unable to articulate them. There are many amusing thoughts that occur in my mind and I cannot but laugh. The people around me look at me funnily. As I told you I cannot express my thoughts clearly. Further even when I try to convey sometimes, people do not pay attention and go away smiling to themselves. The world has become queer these days. But I am at peace here by and large and do not miss anything.
However I dislike the men in white uniform who do not give me the due respect. They order me about and when I defy them, they use physical force to take me to my room. As you know I am a writer but they provide me with no books or magazines or even news papers. The fellows have the temerity to tell me that I was found reading the book upside down and that when I get upset with them I tear the books and magazines. I have become a back number and have only stale news to tell you. I see many men and women around me talking to themselves and laughing like lunatics. Luckily they do not come near me leaving me alone with my constant thoughts. I wish to pen them down and have been asking the men in uniform to give me the writing instruments. They keep promising for long but have not given even a scrap of paper or a pencil so far. They have the cheek to tell me that I would hurt myself with pencil or pen as if I am a small child.
One young lady comes here every week I think to see me. She sits quietly before me and offers some sweet delicacies to eat. Sometimes I accept but mostly I decline as it is below my dignity to accept everything given to me by strangers. I could see she becomes sad and stealthily wipes her tears. I like her very much for she is also like me a quiet person. I have a vague familiarity with her face though I do not remember where and when I met her. I like her coming though I cannot say why. When she is around, my mind stops thinking and I find that a still mind is more enjoyable. One thing that is bothering me is that she is always sad and her smile is strained. May be she has some big worry that she is unable to resolve herself. Poor thing, what can I do sitting here. She tells me that she would take me to her home if the white dressed men allow. I think they are not permitting me to go to a stranger’s place.
I tell her one day ’Take me to your home forcibly. Seek the help of police if needed. I do not like this place and the people here. Will you?”
She looks at me intently with searching eyes and nods her head. I see tears swelling up again in her eyes.I tell her “Do not cry. When I come to your place, I will be a great support to you.“
I wanted to talk to her much but this wretched mind of mine was again crowded with thoughts. I became silent. When I did not speak for long she walked away with tears in her eyes upset with me perhaps. I could see and hear one of the men in white uniform approaching her as she was leaving and asking her how her dad was today. He is presumably her family friend and knew her dad.


  1. thats a rare composition that read in these days,a dn i loved this variety. too good sir.

  2. Wow! I enjoyed reading this one.The last line gives the spark to the story. Loved how you wrote it. Truly brought out the soul of the man who has lost his memory, yet has a mind of his own.
    good one.

  3. i have 3 questions partha
    who are the men in white uniform?
    who is the lady?
    Is this the end of the story or is there a sequel waiting in the wings?

  4. now i get it partha superb story

  5. very touching.......

    That was a very different way of narratiion.. i loved the way you have expressed it.. creating the atmosphere live to the reader.. this is now one of my favourites of your writings.. keep writing...