And then, he just faded away...

He would walk down those streets, daily. The streets where the lovelorn princesses stayed in dilapidated mansions which had dull paints and sooty chimneys.

Every day or almost every day, as if by design, his roving gaze would meet the eyes of a lovelorn girl. It would only be a trice before she got enamored with his hazel green, delicate, teary eyes which seemed to tell a hundred tales.

Then they, he and the princess, would fly, the girl close to his chest, sleeping like a kid, warm in his embrace.

After flying a while, they would land on some grassy meadows, where there was no other sound other than the chirping of the sparrows and the rustle of leaves in the gentle spring breeze.

Then he would bring forth his magic wand, and with a wave of it, create castles which would stand high, mighty and imposing on the grassy meadows. And then, he and the princess would venture inside the castle.

Inside the castle, they would be trapped in a time warp. Time would stand still outside as they discovered each other, inside the castle. He would merge into her and she into her, till they were nothing but one.

Then one fine day, when he felt he had enough of the princess, he would decide to leave.

Then, as soon as he left, a metamorphosis would start.

The grass on the meadows would go dead. A strong, chilly winter would set in, replacing the spring. The castle would be shorn off its aura and would resemble a deathly prison.

The princess, trapped inside the castle, would become a lonely prisoner waiting for her salvation at the gallows.

And he would fly away, deserting the meadow, to find a new princess, to explore new meadows where he would again create castles with a wave of his magic wand.

More castles, more love sessions, more prisoners. More immediate, cold winters. It went on, on and on.

One day he woke up, and realized with a shock, that he had lost his magic wand.His hazel eyes had lost their charm and had become pale.

He flew. His sudden ineptitude frightened him. He flew far and landed on a meadow which he had left long back. The castle was still there, looking less gloomy than when he had suddenly left it. With a relief, he realized that the chilly winter had given way to something which was less strong, more bearable.

He could make out strains of a song coming from inside the castle. She was singing. There was a refreshing freedom in the lines. A tone of relief as if celebrating newfound hope.

He moved with unsure steps towards the castle. But then, as he groped at his waist, and realized that he had lost the keys to the castle.

He stood helplessly for a while. Then in a stray wind which came that way, he just melted.

Vanished without a trace. As if he had never existed.

The strains of the song were still audible from the castle.

Musical Nonsense

I loitered on the platform, outside the train compartment, waiting for the railway staff to come and stick the passenger list. Come they did and I checked out whether my seat was mapped rightly to my name. Yes, seat number twelve and the name was mine.

Then, as always, I went on to scan the list, making a mental note of who my fellow passengers were. Most were nondescript Tamil names, but one, on seat number nine, was a Miss.Veena Krishna (F23, F for female :P), was chartered to board from Katpadi and to get down at Chengannur. There wasn't a malayalee name alongside hers and that was real good news. It meant she was traveling alone.

I didn't really have an idea of where Katpadi was, so I kept looking out at the station nameboards at each stop. It took a while coming, this Katpadi. It finally came when I had just woken up after a nap, to find lot of people swarming in to and out of the train.

I took out the comb and shaped my hair, regretting that I had forgotten to oil it in the morning.

She came soon – tall, dusky and shapely. Long hair as well. But she was talking to someone, that too in Malayalam. I cocked my ears. She was talking about seat numbers and a guy was answering from outside my line of sight. The hero came into view then - fair and handsome with a nice goatee which suited him just fine.

Then they snuggled into the seat opposite to mine and started talking. I focused hard on my copy of "How to Kill a Mockingbird", but my ears were glued to their mouths. Just out of college, they were. And the girl was chattering like a non-stop train: about studies, about affairs, about others affairs, about other guys. She did it with such a flirtatious smile on her lips. And I got sick.

I get sick when I see these girls and boys cuddle together and talk. It just makes me squirm in my seat. It must be jealousy, or maybe the frustration that I hadn't really been able to do all these candy floss stuff while in college.

Then I noticed that the guy had his elbow dangerously brushing her hip. I grew more and more uncomfortable. To make it worse, the guy started asking me some perfunctory questions as well. I replied in kind, making sure that I looked and sounded as if I was way past their age. And that I was least interested in what was happening between them. I acted it out rather well, I guess.

But the girl's chatter and the guys smiles were really making me agitated. Then I found my solace. My cell phone and my headset. I plugged it into my ears, stretched out my legs and played the first album which my aimlessly moving fingers took me to.

Kishore Kumar started singing. The girls chatter was still faintly audible. I pressed the volume control and send the decibel levels soaring in my ears. Kishoreda filled my ears. "Chukar mere man ko..Kiya tune kya ishara". I looked at them with the song pumping in my ears.

"Badla ye mousam, lagey pyaara jag saara.." when the high pitched rendition filled my ears, I could no more hear anything of the girls chatter. The song had drowned her completely.

But, now, it was lovely. My ears were full with a beautiful, awesome love song. In front of my eyes, the pretty couple smiled and snuggled romantically together. It was in sync, perfectly. Now since the girls bubbly chatter wasn't audible, the whole picture was perfect. I noticed them a while, sitting happily opposite me, with Kishore Kumar providing the perfect background for the romantic spectacle. It was so dreamy a sight that I dozed off.

A climax was necessary. But what came was an anticlimax. And it came when I woke up.

My phone battery had conked out, which meant that Kishore Kumar wasn’t singing in my ears anymore. I noticed that the girl had leaned away, but with sugary expression on her face intact. The guy was peering sleepily into his mobile. Still talking though.

"So many in our batch getting married", says the guy.

"Yes, Aswini getting engaged too, did you know?", she replies.

"Yes I did. Someone told me. When is yours?"

"Mom keeps on looking, might happen anytime", she says with a smile. He answered with another smile.

I was shocked. So they were not couples? Really?

They went back to talking some crap, which I didn't listen.

I didn't listen because I was busy. Busy mourning the colossal waste of so many things. My mobile battery. My valuable time. My imaginative juices which worked overtime, to give Kishore Kumar background to their inane chatter. Oh, so many things.

Pissed off, I took a trip to the bathroom, pissed, came back, apologized to Kishore da’s soul and slept.us