Pain in parts

He didn’t seem in pain. But something was wrong I was at R’s house when I asked –

What happened?

This….

R showed me his hands. A red rash had broken out in patches on both his hands.

Will you still be attending the gig?

Oh most certainly!

This is because of stress, i said.

Could be, he countered, will only increase if I don’t go out.

I watched R – my friend, my brother from another mother. I said nothing. Before leaving i glanced back at the raging red that were his hands.

Next day morning

I sat on my bike when the call came. The name displayed – M. It kept ringing & ringing, I let it. Too early in the morning to hear his sorrows. Interestingly his number on my cell displays as M with couple of heart emojis next to it. M displays in white, hearts in blue. All set against a black background.

I could never store a number like that – not because I don’t want to but because I don’t know how to. But M could have done that. M can be like that. The call rang till it died down. I left it at that.

Traffic signal.

The new track was good. I wanted to add it to my playlist. I looked up – signal still red. I reached in my pocket, removed my mobile – on the main screen it displayed – L’s message. My eyes flickered – I read;

Am on the train

How much longer? I typed. Then went back to the music tp add it. For that I had to tap on the heart symbol.

Three hours, she messaged back immediately. I had not expected her to, she usually took time.

How’s the leg? I typed – a part of me not wanting to ask, a part of me still angry with her for going away when I had asked her to stay. Signal turned green, honks, vrooms, dust, the works. I had to ride ahead. No other way.

Still swollen, wrapped in ice packs, her reply. I stopped just ahead of the signal to read m, then I didn’t wait, moved on.

A great sadness & grief surrounds me. I know it will be like this for some time. Before it will not. L’s last message. I read it only after my journey had ended. Too late by then.

Next evening.

Let’s have dinner before I head back.

Usually we finished work and went home. But I wanted to delay going home. Luckily my buisness partner S agreed.

Let’s go to that Asian food place

Let’s

To reach the place we had to cross a traffic signal. This was near her place where we met often. It was late evening, long shadows and all.

I looked left-right and crossed the busy junction in a flash. Then I turned back. S was still standing there in her blue dress on the other side.

What happened? I cried out. Almost. Stopped myself just in time.

Because I remembered – she has something known as ‘Retinitis pigmentosa’ – that leads to tunnel vision. This means she gets stressed at crowded places and footpaths, especially in the evenings. And this was a really busy junction. So obviously she’s stressed.

I walked a little further, crossed the road again at a distance and went back near her. Her focus was only ahead on the road. I said in a casual voice –

Okay now let’s cross over.

Wait, she said nervously.

Relax. No vehicles.

Okay – she said. Then she put one foot forward quite unsure. The next and the following ones were steadier as I walked besides her continuously talking about some stupid thing or the other. I saw the sweat on her forehead, betraying her calm face.

Thank you – S said once we were on the other side.

For what?

For crossing over.

How do you know? I asked in surprised disappointment.

I just know – S smiled. We walked ahead silently avoiding the footpath and taking the busy streets.

Sunday sea-side.

Indeed I feel quite overwhelmed at present. Too much to be done and im way behind schedule. Besides I have health issues that I am ignoring and surviving on pain killers. Now I am getting used to them. so right now really wont be able to give you the time. Maybe after my show –

This was a friends reply to me on email. What happened was –

I was meeting an artist friend after a long time. We met at an old joint – tables by the sea. She had a glass of wine, I didn’t. We spoke of a lot of things – love, life, lockdown. At that point I wanted her to do a project where I document her artistic process. She agreed. Later I realised she felt frazzled and must have said yes because of she could not say me no I sent a voice note telling her please feel free to not do this.

The above was her reply.

I wrote back with a smile to take care and hope to connect soon.

I then put my head down on the table. It was aching – pain from my acidity – pain from my aches – sometimes it’s the legs the belly. I don’t know whose pain I am holding now. Is it mine? Or someone else’s?

My phone rang again. it was M. I let it ring. Till finally I picked up.

Yup?

Bro, I had a bad fall.

What? How? When?

He told me – out for a cycling trip. Wayward car cut him, scraped, his bike skid and he fell badly, been hospitalised in some god forsaken place.  

That’s when I called you yesterday.

Shit!

Which hospital? He told me. As we spoke, I began dressing up. I had no choice but to run to his pain.

Photo credit – Google images – couldn’t get tbe name of the artist. Thank you anonymous!

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