The Art of forgetting

Someday I shall certainly forget you,
Like the grass in the fields forgets
the winter snow
Like the fog of winter
leaves the autumn sunsets only a memory.

On solitary Sunday afternoons,
My steps take the old familiar road
A flight of stairs, a familiar song,
Tapping feet on a wooden floor.

Yes I shall certainly forget you,
in this crowd of beautiful faces,
whose names within a moment of knowing
I may forget to recall
Weren't you just another among them all?

And yet sometimes I just might,
staring into a pair of dark eyes
(seems like yours, in disguise ?)
Or looking at a baby's familiar smile,
remember you for a while.

As I weave dance patterns on the floor
if a whiff of that familiar perfume
were to drift across the room
I might lose my step and stall
(while my partner stares, appalled)


Tossed by the wind across the street
A small black butterfly
caresses my cheeks
The memory of you, and reminder to
the ephemeral finality of life itself.

Someday with a peaceful smile
I can forget to forget you.
Like a lonely sea that remembers
to return everything to the shore.

The old house

A short story based on the Jal song 'Aadat'

The day was hot and I had been selling insurance all day, so the empty bench in the garden of the old house made me decide to rest a while. This was the outskirts of the city and I still had a few clients in the area to cover by nightfall.
It had been a nice house in its time- ornate engravings on the walls, a large fountain in the garden and the large arched windows of stained glass told that its original inhabitants had been wealthy. But later owners had constructed a crude wood staircase that angled its way down outside the house and spoilt the look completely. Most of the windows were grilled up; the fountain was covered with weeds. A dead tree arched its way up towards the first floor balcony. Wild, but beautiful flowers grew in the garden, and the birds were singing. I decided on a fifteen minute break.

I must have slept off for an hour. The late afternoon sun had disappeared behind the house. I was awakened by the sound of running water near me. Somebody had switched on the fountains and the pipes in the garden. It was not an abandoned house after all- I was trespassing, and before someone came out to tell me to get the hell out, I reached for my briefcase and stood up to leave.

But I had been noticed already. An outline of a figure appeared behind the large first floor windows, and then, from the shadows of the first floor balcony, the prettiest face in the world looked down. She was dressed in white and her wavy hair ran till her waist. “Lost your way around town, stranger?” she smiled. “Maybe you could use my help.” She started walking down the large wooden stairs.

“I did not mean to- um, had no idea... I was just going to leave” I said apologetically, and prepared myself for a lecture on civic sense.

“That’s all right,” she said as she came and stood next to me. “We don’t get many visitors here anyways, out here it’s only me and Pa, so it’s good to see a new face and hear news from the town. Why don’t you come on in for some lemonade before you head back?”

She smelt of Jasmine. She must have been around twenty, and whatever initial hesitation I had succumbed when she gently tapped her hand my shoulder. Her touch was cool, and before I knew it I was following up the stairs.

On the first floor an old man with a beard lay fast asleep on a rocking chair, with a newspaper folded on his lap. The girl stopped, placed her finger on her lips to tell me not to disturb him. She turned right, and I followed her into her room. It was dimply lit,with beautiful, ornate furniture but a bit old fashioned, like the kind they used to have fifty years ago. A luxurious beige leather sofa and a queen sized bed took up most of the room. An upright piano and a bookshelf full of sheet music filled up the rest. A portrait of the room’s owner hung on the walls, next to a clock that was no longer working.

“The place looks classy, doesn’t it… but one could find it a bit spooky at times,“ she turned and giggled.
I found myself recalling the Beatles song in my mind. “I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me…She showed me her room….”

“I’ll go get your lemonade,” she said. “Lots of ice, I assume? Its been a hot day for you?”
I nodded, and she disappeared through a door.
When she returned, she placed the jug and two glasses at the table next to the sofa and hopped in to bed and giggled again.

“So what brings you here?” she asked.
“I sell insurance. It’s a traveling job. I move around from town to town.”
“Really? How exciting… and we have been here at the same house for years.
“Yes, I like moving around, seeing new places, like this town.” I poured myself some lemonade.

“Pa does not let me go out. It’s forbidden, and has been the way since mother died. I can step out for a bit in the evenings. Or like now, when he’s asleep.

“Maybe he’s very protective of you,” I suggested. “All the young men from college vying for your attention”

“College stopped two years ago,” she said. “I was studying music. But last when I went and checked, they had taken my name off the rolls. So now it’s me and my piano, most of the time.”
“As for young men, there was one- a face a bit like yours, to be honest. It was love at first sight. But I lost him.” She looked out of the window at the dying sun and sighed.

I tried some encouragement. “Life goes on” I said. “Good things will happen,” A part of me was telling me to get back to work, and not delve into the private lives of strangers. The other part was falling in love with her.

“True, life goes on,” she said. “But I don’t, its’ as if the world has stopped.” She paused.
“I used to play a song for him you know, on the piano,” she said. “I know you’ll find this really strange, but would you like to hear a bit of it? It’ll make me very happy.” She looked at me expectantly with her large beautiful eyes.

“I would love to, “I said. I would have given the world to please her.

She tiptoed and closed the door and took out a notebook from the shelf and placed it over the piano. The music started. Halfway though the song I walked across the room to stand next to her. She was in tears when she finished. I patted her on the shoulder. She held my hand and would not let go.
“You’ll better get going stranger,” she finally said. “I’ll walk you down. “

She opened another door and led me down a spiral staircase that was behind the house.
The chill night breeze greeted us. “I’ll be around these parts again in two weeks, “I said as we stepped down. “I wish we could meet again sometime”.

“Very well, we shall see. It’s hard to catch up with me. You might see me some days,” she smiled.

“There is one interesting thing about this house that I must show you though,” she said as we were walking out through the garden behind. “This garden has a well, a wishing well. You close your eyes and make a wish. Then you drop a coin. Within a month, your wish comes true.” She pointed out the well to our right. It was about five feet wide with a two feet wall along its periphery.

“Really? “ I felt charmed by her childlike conviction.
“Yes. Come, we will try it now.”
We walked over to the well and I took out a coin from my pocket.
“Well now close your eyes.” She said innocently.

I was about to close my eyes when the lights in the house came on, and someone shouted from behind.
“Stop. Don’t do it.” A loud stern voice came from behind.

It was the old man, her father. He stood at the rear door with a handgun pointed at me.
“Get out of here right now, if you value your life” he repeated, with fear and anger on his face as he rushed towards me.

The girl next to me clutched my hand and started screaming. “Its unfair of you Pa, you never let me have any friends. Please Pa…”

“Step back from the well”, the old man said icily,” if you don’t want her to pull you down with her. Step back or I shoot“

“All right… please don’t shoot.” Too shocked and dazed to say anything, I let go of the hand of my new friend and started stepping away. “I will be back” I whispered to her. An overprotective father, and a bit senile too, I thought.

“Forget this night, forget all that may have been said,” the old man said, as he followed me with his handgun towards the exit. “Please don’t try coming here again, and its a warning.” He followed me out to the street and to my car. As I drove away, I could still see my new friend standing in the garden. I have to come back, I told myself.
______________________________________________________________

Date : 15 June, 2002

To:
General Manager Life Policies,
Eastern Region,
Global Insurance Corporation
Karachi.
Sub: Report on disappearance of sales representative

Dear Sir,

We, Hidden Eye Detectives, have been engaged by your company to track the sudden disappearance of your agent Mr. Khan in Lahore with large sums of collected payments in his possession (case no 1332KH). We are pleased to report we have traced Mr. Khan within a week of your request. The missing amount in question is safe and Mr. Khan appears to have had no intentions to disappear with it. His behavior however, is peculiar and suggests some mental disturbance, more of which is noted below.

Our agent traced MR. Khan to a hotel in the area and followed him every day to the outskirts of an abandoned house in Lahore. The house’s lone occupant, and old businessman who lost his daughter in an accident years ago, had died a few weeks ago after a fall from a staircase. Mr. Khan was found sitting on a bench in front of the house every day till dusk, occasionally talking to himself. He had no interest in the collected payments in his possession, which he gladly handed over to us from his hotel room. He seems to have not bothered to stay in touch with his relatives as well.

Our investigation is concluded, we are returning the collected amounts in person tomorrow. We do not feel criminal investigations against Mr. Khan are required.
Yours truly,
Obaid R.
Hidden Eye Detectives.

Date: 16 June 2002

To:
General Manager Life Policies,
Eastern Region,
Global Insurance Corporation
Karachi.

Sub: Report on disappearance of sales representative (Update)

Dear Sir,
We regret to say; we were just informed by the local police that Mr. Khan was found dead in a well in the grounds of the abandoned house he frequented. A few cases of people losing their way at night and falling into an open well on the premises have been reported in the past, so no foul play is suspected.
The collected amounts are being sent today.
Yours truly,
Obaid R.
Hidden Eye Detectives.