winding whirlpools...

The soothing sound resonates through my being. I hear it repetitively. Calmness engulfs me as I let myself be taken away into a world I never saw myself venturing into.

Life has fallen apart.

I remember that repeating this to myself over and over again not so long ago. This habit of repetition came to me along with a set of dimples, a nice tiny nose and a bad temper amongst other things, courtesy my genes.

Who would have thought that I, of all the people, when at the threshold of my life would just give it all up and don a robe and a mala and make that long journey into the frozen lap of the Himalayas. And this, because of a man whom, I promised myself, I wouldn’t let to get to me.

I brushed off allegations that he was seeing another woman. If I believed everyone so easily why was he to be spared the special treatment.

Nut case they christened me. But hey! I loved the man.

My inability to see it coming stemmed from the fact that I was too drowned in work to have a look at the tabloids. The ink used to fill the papers were extracts from the juicy gossip being spread by the jobless mongers. Jobless Jacobi’s is what we call them – mom and I. Apt! And this was all about the man around whom my life revolved and the woman around who’s his revolved. Unfortunately I was not the woman.

Maybe if he did know I exist perhaps I would be- I think to myself grinning at the foolishness of it all. “Star Struck” should be stamped all across my forehead. I walk with his flag draped all over me. His name never left my lips except maybe when I had to breathe and between mouthfuls of my food.

Sigh! Let bygones be bygones. One fine day the world deemed it right to get him married off to this ice cold, wait make that stone-cold (doesn’t it remind you of some WWF Star?) maiden. Old witch I’d rather say. How can the whole world be so ruthless?

Rumors afloat, my man steers his boat carefully and throws in an occasional “No we are just friends” at hungry sharks, who snap and bite at it eagerly. He wants to maintain a clean picture for himself. But the media sharks won’t let him remain the God of all that’s good and picture perfect for long.

And why should they? For once they’d smelt blood and a good kill it was. Not far after this was splashed all over, he tied the knot with her.

Hell freezeth over! The term just came alive, literally. So cold, that I made way to the Himalayas and have been there for quite sometime now. I have learnt not to scoff at what astrologers have to say after reading ones horoscopes. Dad must be mighty pleased.

Atleast someone’s happy!

The icy cold silence continues to stab at my robe clad being and I am kept alive only by the warmth of the mantra I seem to be chanting endlessly, like an automated machine gone awry.