Introspection: April 2008

WARNING: The following narration is 99% genuine with a tad bit of exageration and a few added words here and there. We are terribly sorry for the inconvenience caused due to the above.

I feel sorry for criminals. I mean, for all you know, they might have committed some heinous crime quite unintentionally, and they might be really, really sorry now. They must be stewing in their own guilt, knowing that they're going to die, probably feeling like killing themselves anyways, just to get it over with... I mean, come on people! Have a heart! Give them a break!

You might wonder why I've developed this sudden, repulsive sympathy for these fellows, but I have my reasons. I've been there, done that, etcetera. Alright, so I haven't been to prison, but I have just narrowly escaped from the unpleasant situation of never being able to see the light of day again.

I was at home, it was Friday, and we had tons of homework. My friend and I were tackling the load together. Said friend's mother was offering to take us out for pizza if we finished in time. Friend number two had gone home early and didn't want pizza. So it was the four of us; me and my friend's family. Let's call my friend, Nidhi.

That day I got an unusually large number of calls. First there was dad, telling me he wouldn't be home that day for dinner, then mom, reminding me to get the keys out since she didn't have hers, and lastly my aunt saying that we're supposed to come over to her place the next day. But that's off topic.

At seven-thirty, we decided to go over to Nidhi's place. Friend number two, aka, Mihika, was in the house at that time. We all descended the stairs, talking about our plans for the weekend. I walked into the veranda, closing the wooden door shut behind me.

I can't say for sure whether it was the click of the lock as the door banged shut or whether it was just a mere coincidence, but my mind was hit by a bolt of lightening. The unpleasant kind, mind you. And all of a sudden, the memories of my conversation with mom came rushing into my brain.

Oh and remember to get the keys before coming outside OK? I don't have mine with me. Don't forget!

Of course not mom!

Ha.

My friends, noticing my sudden state of utter terror, stopped talking and rushed to my side.

"What's wrong?"

"Are you OK?"

"What happened?"

I gulped. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then, with the general air of a man attending his own funeral, I croaked out a single word: "key."

My friend's face turned a hideous shade of green.

I sat shakily in a chair, wondering how in heaven's name I'd worm my way out of this one, when my friend (Nidhi) let out a scream of pure horror.

"Where are my shoes?"

I sputtered at her.

"Your shoes?!"

"Yes my shoes! Where are they?"

"I don't know...! Where did you keep them?"

"Right here! God, help me find my shoes!"

I tried to keep my voice level. "I'm about to die in the hand of my own mother and your worrying about your shoes?"

"Well what? You want me to go home barefoot?"

I don't know why, but the word 'barefoot' suddenly jarred my brain. That's it! My neighbours would have the keys!

Before my friends could ask why I seemed so terribly happy at the prospect of Nidhi going barefoot, I shoved them out of the way, and sprinted (barefoot, mind you) around the backyard and into the adjoining compound.

I raced to the front door and nearly collapsed there in fatigue. A nice, kind woman opened the screen door and tried not to show how perplexed she was at my worn out state.

"Can I help you dear?"

"Yes," I gasped, "Do you, by chance, have the spare keys to my house?"

Time stretched for an eternity as the woman rubbed her nose.

"No, I don't think so..."

I was out of there before she could complete her sentence.

I crossed my fingers and prayed with all my heart that the other neighbours had it. Once again, overcome with exhaustion, I banged on their front door. It swung open. A man stood in the doorway, eyes raised sky high.

"Are you alright?"

"W-e-ell, yes..but no...do you have our spare keys?"

A small smile appeared on his face. And that day I learned that people generally smile when they realise that they can be of no use whatsoever.

As he shook his head in a dejected gesture of a person saying "no", I could practically hear the death gongs beat through the deadly night. I was close to tears.

The man, Mr. Joshi we'll call him, noticed my state of utter depression and decided to ask politely what was wrong. I told him the whole story and he peered at me solemnly.

"Does your grandfather have the spare?"

I could have hugged him. Of course my grandfather had the spares! Relief flooded in me...

I froze mid jump. My grandfather was taking a walk. Outside. Within sight of my mother. I'd have to go find him. Outside. Within sight of my mother. That would lead to questions. Outside. By my mother. Which would lead to a horrifying case of murder. Outside. Within sight of others. In short I couldn't go out there....

but someone else could.

I eyed Mr. Joshi, wondering how persuasive I'd have to be...

After some amount of minutes...

I jogged back to my place, my feet trying to avoid the prickly pain of the tiny stones on the road. I turned the corner and caught sight of both my friends, one looking extremely confused and panicked, the other looking extremely bored and decisively un-panicked.

"Where is she?" Nidhi bellowed, her hands waving up and down in an otherwise amusing manner.

Mihika, looking unperturbed by my sudden disappearance and Nidhi's distressed state of mind shrugged, "She went to your place without you."

"WHAT?"

"What?"

I entered into view. Went to her place indeed! Now where did she come up with that?

Nidhi whirled around at the sound of my voice. I cringed at the sight of her disheveled self.
"And where have you been??"

"Never mind..."

I stopped mid sentence.

This time, my mind wasn't triggered by some utterly unrelated set of words, but more by the sight of my house. I leaped over the fence and ran a hand down the barred windows. I slipped my arm in between the cold rods and fingered my way to the latch, which clicked open almost immediately.

My eyes went wide. I pushed open the sliding glass and the netted screen that followed. And soon enough, I had successfully opened the window. I nearly cried out with joy as I saw, not more that a few feet away from the window, was my mom's purse inside which, sitting on the rest of it contents like a crowned queen, was the key.

The only problem? The window was barred.

I eyed it grimly. There was no way I could slip through. Even Mihika wasn't skinny enough, and that was saying something. I wondered if breaking into your own house was considered a crime and soon gave up on the idea. The ironic thing was, I could see the key right there, but there was no way of reaching it. It was quiet a depressing scene, really.

My friend approached me from behind and eyed my arms outstretched pathetically, trying, in vain, to reach an object which lay all the way across the room. "Well, what now?"

"The spare key," I sighed, "Might be with my grandfather..."

Nidhi looked at me, confused.

"What?" I snapped, "I thought that my grandfather might have the spares. But I can't find him."

"Sue me if I'm wrong, but isn't your grandfather right there?"

I whirled around to the direction of her finger. I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. And with the general air of person seeing a ghost, I croaked out a single word: "No way."

OK, so it was two words.

I stared in blank astonishment at my grandfather sitting on the veranda chair, untying his boots at a painstakingly slow pace. My friends and I held our breaths, each one of us not daring to believe, hoping, praying that he had the key.

My grandfather got up. Slowly. Deliberately. He steadied himself on the arm of the chair and eyed the door. He was a man on a mission. He shuffled to the door. Two feet away. One foot.

With a single, quivering arm, he reached for the bell.

I burst into tears.

A large group of girls, namely, the rest of my friends, watched me in complete confusion as I sank dejectedly to the ground. All my hopes and dreams for a peaceful evening were shattered. Not to mention the pizza...

"Look!"

I looked up and found (quite to my irritation) that all my friends had left my side and were now talking casually in my veranda, as if nothing had gone amiss. I slowly trudged inside, my curiosity piqued.

And I froze.

Right in front of me, like welcoming arms, the large wooden door stood wide open.

I tell you, I have never felt better in my life. I let out a cry of pure joy, scaring half the crowd into falling in their chairs and shoved the other half into falling anyways. I ran to my grandfather, hugging him nearly to death. I thanked him a billion times and then suddenly flew off. My grandfather watched me in stunned silence, then shook his head, muttering to himself about "teenager these days!...."

I got to the front table and held my breath. There, shining like a box of gold, sat my Mom's purse. With a trembling hand, hoping this wasn't a dream, I reached for the keys. The whole house seemed to erupt in applause and I felt tears well up . I delicately cupped the precious object in my hands, my eyes feasting on its simplicity. The key.

I turned around and held the key up, like a trophy, for all my friends to see. They stood there, speechless, staring, hypnotised at the key as realisation struck them. All to late, they turned a weird shade of green and then back to normal.

Nidhi pushed her way in front, holding her own prize in her hands (though mine was shinier and more pleasant to look at). Her eyes shone. Cradling them, like a newborn baby, dirt-filled and smelly, were her shoes.

She grinned broadly. "I found them."

A true story from the diaries of Namrata Kakade...

EPILOGUE

I did get to go for pizza that day, just if your wondering. I was the happiest person on earth as I proudly handed the keys to a certain beaming mother. My friends, of course, had to ruin the moment by snorting in the most most suggestive way and making hideous faces behind my mother's back. My mother didn't know about this incident till at least a month later, by which time she was laughing too hard to feel murderous. My grandfather seemed extremely pleased with himself to know that he saved the day.

If your wondering about Nidhi's shoes, they were actually at the back door. I had told hers so a few times, though I had unfortunately omitted the word 'back' in my haste to find the keys. She circled the house four to five times (each time somehow failing to notice her shoes) and ended up remembering where they were when I decided I had omitted the key word 'back' for too long.

Right. And Mr. Joshi, didn't find my grandfather (I wonder why...) but once we all had calmed down, I conveniently tracked the man down and thanked him for his immense help and support for which he replied that he hadn't done anything (which was technically true...but we'll let it pass) and he was always glad to be of assistance.

And for future reference, I did forget the keys many more times after this, but my grandfather conveniently carried his at all times...

Introspection

The annoyingly evasive piece of metal that has been cut into a special shape and is used for fastening or unfastening a lock

Fashioned Forebodings

Introspection