DIYA

The swing was swinging. Only, no one was on it. It was as though an invisible being was the master of the swing. The sight of it- it gave an odd pleasure. The swing was doing what it was suppose to do. An order in things that exist- for the sake of existing. This is how it should be. This is the way I like them, to be.

***

Some time back, I met a friend. He was a good man. But he let things change in his life. Disrupted the order of nature. And his life was never the same again. He was repenting. I felt always happy to hear people say that. Approve of my ideas. It feels good to see people share your belief. Say ‘you were right’.

***

That is how my life is. The way it should be. Not an inch on this side of the life. Not one inch on the other. Just there. Where it should be. Where it would stay safe. Uncomplicated. Traditional. Natural.

***

In my life, there was no place for madness. The way I am, is good. I saw someone on TV the other day, who said something like- “.. chaos happens when an unstoppable object meets an immovable one..” That is exactly what I hate. I am immovable. And I don’t like unstoppable objects.

***

I found this girl near the Jogger’s Park gateway. About twelve. She came unto my waist. Covered in rags. She was unconscious. I took her to the hospital. The sight of her, back at that moment- was disturbing. It was as though- it reflected the poverty of the entire world put together. I couldn’t help it. It was not in my system.

***

She stayed with me. Always. I had to teach her to talk, eat, walk properly. There was this sense of another being beside you- constantly. I was trying to get used to it. Meanwhile, she gave me a name. ‘Dada’. I didn’t know, what that meant. But I thought, I should probably give her a name too. I asked her, what her favorite name was. ‘Diya’. She became that.

Diya was an unstoppable object. She spread throughout. Like water, like fire, like life. The extent to which she had influenced my living- I had no time to think about it. There used to be a bird inside me- that usually popped to remind me of time. But it doesn’t do so anymore. It was as though, it had gone away from me. I was not myself without it. The bird was free. And I am never. Or so, I thought.

***

She liked to swing. I bought her one. I could see her. Full of life, whenever she was swinging. It was a pleasure to see that. It brought me something that I had never experienced before. Happiness? Sorrow? Elation? Depression? I don’t know. But whatever that was, I felt good. Like never before. I felt like I was living to see her swing. But one is suppose to live for oneself. Then how is that, that I’ve come to like this feeling. This unconditional love for the girl in rags, who had no name. ‘Diya’?

***

Something was not well. I could feel it. I was trapped between her world and mine. And this was not alright. When my one feet was in my world, the other was in hers. This was not me. I was never like that. I was beginning to experience traces of chaos. I was beginning to see nature being man-handled. When you’ve carried a belief for this long, it always felt hard to see it crumble. I had never seen me the way I was now. I was beginning to sense danger.

She had made a drawing. She just loved colours. I always found her attracted to colours. I liked black. And white, at times. But she liked all the colours. The brighter the better. The drawing was full of colours. Just like her. But I never liked colours. And she was making me like what I did not like. I hated her for it. But I loved her for it. This was the beginning of chaos. I was crumbling the drawing. I was crumbling her smile. I could not stop myself. I was torn between who I was and who I am. I could see tears in her eyes. I felt tears too. But I felt like they were coming from one of my eyes. She was trying to tell me something. I could not hear what that was. I was beginning to collapse. I? I didn’t know, who I was.

***

The swing was swinging. Only, no one was on it. It was as though an invisible being was the master of the swing. The sight of it- it gave an odd pleasure. The swing was doing what it was suppose to do. An order in things that exist- for the sake of existing. This is how it should be. This is the way I like them, to be. The swing was swinging. But there was no one on it! And why did I feel happy about it? She was not present on it anymore. I was no longer ‘Dada’. I was I. I should feel happy about it! But why was I not feeling so?

***

May be this was why people liked to change the way things should be. For the fleeting moment of happiness that they get to experience. To sense their heart getting heavy and light all at once. I now knew, why they liked it. It was a part of nature. It was a part of the order too. One can never evade it. One has to live with it. Chaos completes natures’ orders. It completes the life with nature. But I had lost my chaos. My sense of being complete. And I need to be complete. I needed to find Diya. I would go looking for her. I would like colours. All of them. I would be ‘Dada’ forever. That was who I am. Who I should be. That was what nature had planned for me. I would bring back the order in my life. I would complete my life. I would bring back, my Diya…

******