The writer 

“Pssst, Karthik. Over here. Got a minute? “ , she called out. 



It was a lazy day even by my usual lazy standards. It’s not like I had anything better to do. Her call forced me to abandon my precious delivery plan of sitting all through the day and accomplishing just about nothing. 


I’m new here. She and I cozied up. I guess it took us very little time to move on from being acquaintances to good buddies. She was the boss. She did enjoy my utter disregard for authority and hypocrisy in the form of structured dogmatic hierarchy. Truth be told, I think she enjoyed being viewed as something beyond a boss. She enjoyed the air of inclusion that I offered. We were good buddies alright. 


“What up” , I said. 


“I’m writing this new story. Wanna hear all about it? I have a few chapters already penned. Would be nice to hear your views on them”, she brimmed with pride. 


I guess I could stake my reputation and state that she didn’t care much about my views. She liked narrating her tales. Being the conversationalist that I am, she enjoyed arguing with me and enjoyed a happy tenacious discussion. I got off my comfy bean bag , shrugged my shoulders to shake off blissful indolence. 


“Sure. Lay it on me girl”, I offered my warmest flirtatious smile. 

I sat beside her on the bench. She liked the makeshift private lawn that was a part of her office. She didn’t mind her team using the lawn to bask on a warm sunny day. The workbench was an extension of her desk. She got most of her work done sitting on that bench. She enjoyed the view. The view was spectacular indeed. The view reminded me of why we do the things we do. It reminded me of the purpose of clocking in work each day. It was a wonderful assurance of sorts, that view. 


“So you have your basics”, she started her new tale. 

“But of course. I don’t expect you to dole out a supernatural thriller of any kind” , I teased. 

Her skilful smile ignored my jibe. It was her way of saying ‘Whatever’ to shoot of my sarcastic comments. We did enjoy that jousting on most days. 


“Yeah, same old. So the story kicks in this rehab centre. The guy has survivors guilt and the girl..” she continued. I interjected and denied her the peace of completing her sentence. 

“What’s with you and second chances!!! Every story you’ve told me so far always takes flight in some rehab centre. The last dozen were in this alcoholics intervention thingy. Then we had that phase of drug rehab. Then you went nuts over the oncology department and we were doing a few rounds around the hospital. Seriously, what’s with you and life changing issue deus ex machine thingy!!! That plot is soooooooooooooooooooo much reused that it makes me want to gag” , I whined. 

“Fine!!!  she exasperated. She took a deep breath to calm herself down. “Ok, fair enough. Let’s keep it simple. Boy , girl, they both meet in their school. Is that exciting enough for you? ” 

“That’s a start”, I said.

“So this one time, after years of being together as friends, they have this , you know, their moment of clarity.” 

I could see the excitement in her eyes. The smile in her voice couldn’t contain itself. She did love writing about tiny romances which make a world of a difference to characters and not much to others. I guess her readers could connect well with that normal, realistic simple moments of life. 

“Moment of clarity. Interesting”, I responded.

“Yeah yeah”, she burst out her narration once again. “So they are at this game right. something small, something simple. They are separated by a small crowd. They both still enjoy the game but they keep stealing each other’s glances. They both don’t make much of it. It’s just the tiny insignificant assurance that they both are there, they both feel connected in touch through their harmless glances from time to time. It’s their moment of clarity. They know it deep within their hearts that in time, their hearts would beat a lovely rhythm for each other. Ohhhh, it’s going to be so surreal and lovely” , she concluded.

“What????” I quipped. 

“They both are at this game. They stand apart. They look at each other!” , I paraphrased her plot in a mocking tone. “What’s clarity got to do here! Its like I go for a walk and let my dog run in front of me. From time to time, my dog turns back and looks at me. I look at him too. It’s not like instant love that blossoms. It’s just he likes to stay assured that I haven’t ditched him. This is by far the lamest of plots girl!!!!!” I said

“Oh shut yup. What the hell do you know of romance” , she rebutted. “That, my friend, is the moment of pristine clarity. Deep down, they both were longing for each other and finding assurance in knowing that the other was around and would continue to be there for them”. 

Hmmmm, “ I succumbed to her argument. I did feel like protesting but decided against it. 

“So, then what. How does that tale end”, I asked.

“I don’t know “ she said as she shrugged her shoulder. 

“What do you mean that you don’t know” , I shot back.

“Exactly like what I said. I don’t know” , she carelessly tossed a bunch of hair that fell over her face. 


“You know right”, I started “Being god and all, you really suck at your job. How is that tale complete. We are talking about the bloody fate of two people!”. I was a little irked by her tardiness. 

She smiled her warm motherly smile. “I’m god, yes. I write everybody’s fate. Yes. But it’s more like a framework. I set the plot into motion. The whole deal of universe conspiring, well, that’s the plot that I just read out. Humans are driven by freewill and the choices that they make. Even as god, I don’t have a say over it. It’s their life, you know”.

I really did love the way she’d take the time out and explain it to me in a way I could understand. She’d always explains things to me as one would explain to a child. There was this clarity in her thoughts, the way she articulated words which were simple and easy to grasp and accept, she was the master of the game indeed. 

“You know what?, you still write lousy tales girl” , I teased her once more.

We both laughed about it. 

“Tell you what Karthik“, she said as she punched me on my shoulder. 

” Tell me what, Ms Boss ?” , I asked her curiously.

“I have no bloody clue about how you managed to sneak into heaven. I really do need to revamp that screening process man!!!!!!” , she taunted me. 


“Good luck with that” I said and we both sat in silence to see the soft blue ball of life in front of us at a distance. Damn straight good to be an angel! You get to hang out with the coolest kid of em all 🙂


Karthik

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