fourteen

8:21 PM

"I know what we can do," Diana announced. By now her team had already made their way to her, and she told each of them what to do.

"Get a hold of someone in the press, tell them we're opening at nine-thirty instead of nine tonight.

"Call all of the artists who were supposed to showcase their work on night 4. Tell them the date's been moved up to tonight. Confirm that they will be here and then call the warehouse and tell them we need those exhibits asap. Make sure they're aware that we'll be sending back all of the one's we've gotten for tonight.

"Get some flashlights.

"Help me move all of these exhibits to the back so that we can start loading them onto the warehouse truck once it gets here."

thirteen

8 PM

Diana was running the final checks for the night. All the exhibits had been set up. A hall full of interactive art exhibits. One such exhibit would even have guests 'painting with fire.' The number of safety measures Diana had to put in place for that was ridiculous. In fact, making sure that the fire extinguishers were in their place is precisely what she was doing when, once again, the lights went out.

8:19 PM

"I thought the electrician said everything checked out?" Shouted Diana into the darkness.

"He did!" Came a reply. "What do we do now? The place opens in less than an hour!"

"Give me a second." Diana had a gut feeling that the power wouldn't be back anytime soon. 

twelve

Diana rolled over and checked her phone. 9:16 AM. No wonder she was so groggy. The power had gone out in the hall at 12:48 AM. Diana remembered the time exactly because she had checked it when she took out her phone to use as a flashlight. She along with a handful of others had stuck around till 2:30 trying to find the root of the blackout.

The event was only supposed to go on till 1:00 AM, so they didn't lose a lot of time, but no one had been able to figure out what had happened. Well, atleast Carly had enjoyed herself. Diana couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her friend's face light up like that.

Going though her notifications,  Diana came across a message:

"Don't know what happened last night, but everything's up and running now. Probably just some fluke."

"Better get started," Diana thought, as she got out of bed. "Another night, another theme."

eleven

Stepping out of the storm of bubbles, Carly found herself face to face with Diana.

"Diana, this is brilliant!"

Diana laughed. "You've hardly seen anything yet."

Both of the girls grabbed a drink and then Diana showed Carly around the world of bubbles. It made Carly feel like she was a little girl again, sitting in her front yard, blowing bubbles into the summer breeze. Watching them float around and pop when they tried to land on a blade of grass.

The tiny bubble storm was by far her favorite exhibit, followed by the giant bubbles near the back. Huge rings, the size of hula hoops, were being used to create monstrous bubbles that could fit a child inside them. Of course, the sheer size of the bubbles was astonishing in itself, but Carly loved watching them float around, their free form changing shapes as they move.

She was watching one such bubble dance about, when suddenly the hall went dark.  

ten

As she entered the hall, Carly opened her mouth to thank the doorman, but the words never formed. Bubbles as far as the eye could see. Colorful bubbles of all different hues floated around her, greeting her as she tried to make sense of this new world.

As Carly popped a green bubble, she noticed some tiny bubbles to her right. Walking further in, she made her way to an army of tiny bubbles. So miniscule and dense, they seemed like living, breathing mist.

"You can walk through them if you'd like," said the man who was creating them with the help of a machine. Without missing a beat, Carly walked into bubbles, letting them engulf her.

The words that hadn't formed earlier, now escaped in the form of a giggle. Carly stretched her arms out and twirled around.

"There you are," said a familiar voice.

nine

Carly made her way up the stairs, ecstatic. There were camera flashes and reporters on all sides. Of course, they weren't there for her. The only reason she was here at all was because Diana had pulled some strings to get her an invitation.

It really was marvelous, the grandeur of it all. This colossal hall amidst their little town. Big names and famous faces from all over had flown in for its opening week. Seven nights, seven different themes.

"I wonder what tonight's theme is," Carly thought as she reached the last step. 

Monopoly

Dear Mr. Monopoly-Man,

I always imagine you with a monocle. But as I began to write this, I recalled that you dont wear one in the edition I own. A quick google search revealed that, in fact, you never did wear one (and also that your name is 'Rich Uncle Pennybags').

Even though you always welcome us with open arms, you seem quite the sadist: as we run around you in circles, friends turn to foe and families are torn apart. But regardless of the damages inflicted, I'd like to thank you. You've taught me a few things I would have otherwise never known:

1. I wasn't meant to start a business (I've only ever won two games)
2. "Nothing" can be a blessing sometimes (The relief of "Free Parking" instead of paying rent)
3. My family is stronger than a board game (It's never torn us apart)

As we go about our rounds I find it much like life, passing "Go" is like returning home, to soon set out again. Of course, the joy of $200 at "Go" is a small feat compared to the love at  home. Life is unfair,  as is the "Go to Jail" square, but that's pretty much where the similarities end.

I have to admit, I'm no longer a fan of the board game, but I do play the card game every now and again. How does that measure up, though? I'm not quite sure. I'll get back to you on that in another letter.

Regards,
Charvi

Heartbreak

Don't worry, this isn't one of those sappy love stories that take a tragic turn. It's about a little girl, reciting the days of the week while rocking her crying baby sister in her arms. After the Days-of-the-Week song ended, I taught her how to snap her fingers, to keep her baby sister occupied. We were sitting in a makeshift school in the middle of a construction site. Josna is the daughter of two of the laborers that work on the site. She goes to this school along with the other workers' kids (or at least those whose parents allow them to go), for food, shelter, and informal education.

I asked her if she liked going to this school to which she nodded with a wide smile.

"Are you learning anything?"

Frantic nodding.

"Really?"

"Yes, really!"

"So how old are you?" I asked her.

She kept smiling but gave me a blank stare.

"How old are you?" I repeated, thinking she hadn't heard me over the noise of our surroundings.

The same blank stare.

"Don't you know how old you are?"

She shook her head shyly: No.

My heart broke.

I always knew that we, as humans, take many things for granted. Our homes, food, education, loved ones, games, electric supply, and so much more. On this day, talking to this little girl, I realized that knowing our birthdates is also a privilege that we take for granted.

My birthday has been celebrated since before I can remember, and I will continue to celebrate it for the rest of my life. One date, seemingly insignificant yet such a large part of my identity. Josna and so many others like her will never know the joy of becoming a year older (or the sorrow of become "too old" in your own eyes).

This isn't a superficial rant about the importance of birthdays or pity for those who don't know theirs. This is about realizing that their struggle is much larger than the obvious picture we get when we see them walking down the street. It's about kids who dream of a world beyond the construction site and the one-room school within it.

So this festive season, #sparkasmile by donating to assure that Josna and her friends will always have a safe space to learn and grow.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Spark a Smile this Diwali by supporting SAATH Child Friendly Spaces! Help provide shelter, nutrition, and education to child laborers in India. Click the link below to donate. #sparkasmile #SAATHCharitableTrust #childlabor #education #underprvilegedchildren #india #diwali2k18

For Foreign Donors: (donate in USD) https://www.globalgiving.org/fundraisers/spark-a-smile/

For Indian Donors: (donate in INR)
http://saath.org/donate-now/

eight

Although her 'yes' had been calm, in her mind was chaos. "What is going on?!" Jocelyn thought to herself. A small part of her was relieved that Amelia wasn't losing her mind but the feeling of relief was overwhelmed by the feeling of terror.
"But where is it coming from?" She asked out loud.
"I don't know," Amelia replied. "But this isn't even the weirdest part.

Amelia got out of bed to explain the mystery of the door knob. That's when she noticed that Jocelyn was staring at her with wide eyes.
"Relax, Joce. It's harmless. Here let me show you." Amelia prompted for Jocelyn to join her by the door.
"Give me your hand."
Jocelyn obliged and let Amelia move her hand towards the knob. As soon as she touched the knob she wanted to remove her hand but Amelia held it in place.
"Relax. Listen." She told Jocelyn.

Calmer now, Jocelyn listened. She listened to the clinking of glasses and humming voices. She thought she heard laughter as well every now and then. All of this was encased within a beautiful melody playing in the background.
"Joce?" A familiar voice asked. It was Amelia. She opened her eyes not remembering when she closed them.

seven

The next night, Jocelyn stayed over at Amelia's place. To be honest, she was relieved when Amelia asked her to do so because she was a bit worried about her well being. The girls had dinner and then settled in for a movie. The movie ended around midnight with no appearance by the yellow light. As the credits rolled, Amelia stared at the door, frowning, while Jocelyn stared at Amelia, not knowing what to say.

Thankfully, Amelia broke the silence.
"Stop staring at me like I'm crazy, Joce," Amelia turned towards her.
"I don't think you're crazy, Amelia. Maybe you're just stressed and sleep deprived. You could come sleep at my place if you want to get away from ask this. Maybe -"
"Maybe what?" Amelia asked. Jocelyn had stopped midsentence. As she asked, she noticed that Joce was staring at something behind her and that yellow light was reflecting off of her face.

Amelia turned around. "You see it too, right?" She asked.
"Yes."

six

Jocelyn entered Amelia's apartment and locked the door behind her. Inside the bedroom, Amelia heard the main door close and called Jocelyn.
"I'm here." Jocelyn said, picking up the call, "You're in your bedroom right?"
"Yeah, come here but don't try to open the door," Amelia instructed.
"Okay..." Jocelyn said, confused. "I'm here, now what?"
"Do you see a light under the door?"
"Well I just turned on the hall light. Let me switch it off and check."
Jocelyn was in complete darkness. "There's no light Amelia. I can't see a thing."
"Fine," said Amelia, "open the door."
She watched as the door opened and the light disappeared, a confused and worried Jocelyn in it's place instead. 

five

Amelia was sitting in bed with the lights off, watching a movie on her laptop. It was a romantic comedy about a girl trying to track down an old lover - exactly her kind of movie. Midway through the search, Amelia got distracted. The darkness behind her screen had disintegrated into a yellow glow. The light was back. This time she knew it wasn't a dream. The movie still running, Amelia stared at the door and reached for her phone. 12:07 AM. Jocelyn would be asleep. She called her anyway.

"Amelia?" A groggy voice picked up, "what happened?"
"It's back," Amelia said, "I was watching a movie and then all of a sudden yellow light started coming in through the door."
"Oh my God," replied Jocelyn, now fully awake. "Do you think someone is in your house?"
"No. There's no sound and the light isn't moving," Amelia said, knowing that the light would disappear as soon as she opened the door.

But at the moment, she couldn't think of anything else to do than to get rid of it. So she got up to close it. However, she had forgotten about the sounds and when she touched the door knob, she could hear them again.

Amelia realized that Jocelyn was still talking to her.
"Amelia? Hello? Can you hear me?"
"Yes. Joce can you come here? Let yourself in with your key"

After assuring that Amelia was alright, Jocelyn got out of bed, grabbed Amelia's key and headed out the door. What was going on?

four

Amelia was sitting on a bench, sipping hot chocolate she'd bought from Rizzo's. It's was now 5:30 AM, Jocelyn and Sammy would be here any minute. She heard barking and looked to the left, smiling. "Sammy!" Amelia exclaimed as the Collie greeted her.

"Ready to go?" Jocelyn asked.
"I actually already jogged today," Amelia said, "How about we just let Sammy loose?"

With that, Amelia began to recall her morning experience while Sammy enjoyed his leashless morning run.

As always, they left the park around 6:30 AM. Amelia went home and got ready for work. She was a guidance counselor at West Mill Elementary. Sitting down at her desk, she had all but forgotten about the door. That is, until two nights later. 

three

Taking half a step out, Amelia peered around, not sure what she was expecting to see. She stepped back in and closed the door. No light. "Of course not," she thought to herself, "I must be losing my mind."
She walked over to her bedside table and picked up her phone. 4:48 AM.

Amelia looked at the door. She knew she wouldn't be able to fall back asleep right now, so she grabbed her sneakers and headed out for a jog. It was a bit early but that was fine, the park down the street usually began filling up with joggers and dog owners around 5 AM. 

two

Shuffling over to the door, Amelia tucked loose strands of her hair behind her ear and reached for the door knob. Gasping, her hand reflexively let go of it as her heart hammered against her chest. After a few breaths, Amelia reached for the door knob again. This time her hand was shaking.

Once again, as soon as her palm met the metal knob, the sound of chattering voices and clinking glasses filled her ears. Amelia forced herself to keep holding it. Listening closely, she could make out faint music and the clicking of heels on the floor. Slowly, she turned door knob. The light disappeared and she opened the door to her empty hall. 

one

Feeling cold but not wanting her sleep to go away, Amelia felt around for her blanket. Unable to find it, she groaned and opened her eyes. Before she could continue her search, Amelia's attention was drawn to the yellow light flooding in through the crack between the door and it's frame.

"How strange," she thought, sitting up and rubbing her eyes, half sure she must be dreaming. Her house didn't have a single yellow light and the hall had no windows from which the light may be streaming in. Swinging her legs over the bed, she got up to investigate. 

The Game of LIFE

To the creators of 'The Game of LIFE':

If only it were that simple. Perhaps it is. Perhaps there's an invisible dice dictating our every move. That would explain how indecisiveness often leads to spontaneity. We consume so much energy trying to figure out our next move, only for the wheel to spin and decide for us. (There are no dice in LIFE.)

I find it amusing how easy you make it all seem. A clear path, with only one or two branches, all leading to the same 'Millionaire Space' (unless you decide to gamble and end up broke). I believe you haven't read Frost's 'The Road Not Taken,' or perhaps you simply disregarded it. "Way leads on to way," they don't merge back again.

I don't blame you for giving kids a misconception of life. If your game was like the real deal, I'm sure it wouldn't be as popular. But tell me, what am I supposed to do now? I'm standing at the fork in the road, knowing they don't merge back, knowing there's no 'Millionaire Space' waiting for me at the end. Even Frost is of no use here. There are no trodden leaves, no clear paths, and definitely no going back.

I guess that's one thing you definitely got right - forward is the only way to go. No running around the same loop like in 'Monopoly.' Of course, 'Monopoly' does have some things right, but I'll save that for another day.

Regards,
Charvi

We Are Monkeys.

This is something that I wrote a couple of months ago and came across again today when I was looking for another file.

---

We are monkeys.

This is not a reference to the apes of the evolutionary theory. This is a reference to the monkeys from the story of the cap-seller. This is the tragedy of mankind’s Monkey See Monkey Do nature.

We are monkeys.

All around me is a jungle. Not of trees or concrete – of students hustling about. In every lecture, every direction, as far as the eye can see are students scratching on paper and ticking their books. Which books? Related to the ongoing lecture? Of course not! That would be crazy. Aptitude is the new mantra for all final year students. For GRE, CAT and of course, placements.

“What are you preparing for?” I ask.

“For everything!” One girl replies.

We are monkeys.

One person picks up an aptitude book and everyone follows. It makes sense though, we all want to do well and aptitude is a large part of the criteria. But do we really know what we are doing?

“What plans after you get your degree?”

“I don’t know. Either a job or masters.”

“Well of course, what else could there be.”

What else could there be? Surely there must be something. A third choice, a hidden door. Placements have started, postgrad deadlines are soon and we are still hustling about, directionless, knocking on all the doors – hoping to find a way out.

Once Upon A Memory - Part 2

Dear Papa,

Once upon a memory, we went off to work together, you and I.
That day started out as a normal day. Mom woke me up, gave me breakfast and helped me get ready. She combed my hair as I picked out a rubber band that matched my tee-shirt.
At the office, you were busy working and I was busy exploring. The fact that there was more than one clock intrigued me. One for East coast time, for West coast, for London, Delhi, and so on. Today I have a digital version of that wall on my phone - the world clock with all the time zones of places close to my heart.
Well, a kid can only explore so much and I'm sure I fell into a cycle of non-stop chatter soon after you explained the clocks to me. But you were used to that, weren't you? I used to always talk.
I remember feeling like a grown up when you gave me some work to do. Important work. I was really helping you out. There were some blueprints that needed to be stamped.
"Stamp here," you showed me. "Can you handle that?"
Apparently not. Did I stamp in the right spot? Of course. But apparently they were all upside down.
Regardless, all the hard work and effort I put in had made me hungry and my stomach was grumbling. Dad to the rescue, of course. We went to pizza hut and ordered take out. I ate an ENTIRE pizza all by myself (personal pan). Yet another accomplishment in such a short amount of time.
Finally, the day was nearing it's end so I drew on the dry-erase board while you finished your work (my work was already done because I was VERY efficient - even as a child.) I drew and drew and drew. So many different colors. Such a huge board. It was every child's dream*.
As you saw what I had drawn, you noticed something else too - the collateral damage. I had somehow managed to mess up the wall under the board. I hadn't drawn on it - I was way too professional to make an amateur move like that. But the particles from the duster must've gotten on my hands and then the wall. Let's be honest, I was short and the board was out of my reach. Something like this was bound to happen.
All in all, it was a pretty productive day. Probably the most productive that office has ever seen (no need to thank me). After cleaning up my mess, we took off and headed back home.
The end.


* At the time.  There was honestly nothing more fun. Kids today are missing out.

Magic8

Dear Magic8 Ball,
Please tell me what to do
Don't tell me "cannot predict now"
I'm relying on you

I don't need "it is certain"
Or "it is decidedly so"
I can work with "don't count on it"
Or "my sources say no"

Just don't leave me hanging
With "concentrate and ask again"
If I concentrate anymore
I'm sure I'll damage my brain

Is the future "outlook good"?
Do the "signs point to yes"?
Please tell me now so I can be
Relieved of this stress

So Magic8, please tell me
Don't be indifferent
Sincerely, a desperate
Final year student