The phone reminder alert sat back and
quietly watched me slip.
I double check
it just now and find the year had been pre-set for the following one.
The post-it note
to self on the wall put up five days ago, had fallen off like a bored leaf unannounced,
and got swept off during the perfunctory daily room clean up before it served
I hadn’t accessed my e-mails the last couple of days and missed the reinforcement of the numerous inbox calendar alerts I had set with determined diligence.
I had all notifications on my phone
muted as I was out attending a daylong event yesterday.
While I was out, the diary where I made a note in ALL CAPS and circled the designated date had got unceremoniously tucked away at the bottom of a stack at the pro-active hands of my Mom, -who decided to take charge of the perpetually busy-looking but largely idle scatter of books -taking advantage of my absence.
I had, in fact, experienced an intermittent itch about something being amiss –my sharpness is my spot of pride- during the day; but I returned to a room that appeared way too much in order for anything to have been misplaced. Just the way one expects a well-sorted person’s space to be, I thought approvingly.
It was late and I was exhausted. I drifted off with a smug reassurance lining my mouth imagining the look on your face as I make my impression tomorrow to over-write the precedent of my callous misses in the last three successive years. My first carefully plotted manoeuvre to win your favor to get a step closer to asking you out so you will finally see me for the sensitive charmer I am.
the past one week, I have been patting myself on the back in secret elation for
the surefire way I had got it all covered to finally join-in the league of the
‘How Can-I-Ever-Forget-Yours’ from this year on.
This morning, I make myself all shiny and dapper and make my way to your house with confident swagger as I hold onto a carefully picked gift and flowers in my hand.
As I approach your front yard, I begin to take in the signs and feel my heart sink in horrified dismay!
The remains of torn gift wrap twirling
in the air;
Slowly deflating balloons still hanging
at your entrance;
The cluster of tired flowers and confetti strewn on your porch from yesterday’s revelry,
and a few late deliveries still trickling in.
I feel my fizz leave me ashore as I now find myself standing lame and tentative at your door trying to rehearse the most coherent and convincing explanation of just how I got blind-sided at my game…Again.
conversation at 6am on a near freezing January dawn in a mountain surrounded
wilderness just before setting out on a forest trail hike.
Me: Be done with that glass of milk already. Been nearly 10 minutes
and you are holding everyone back.
Little Buddha (LB): I will, once I have my gloves on.
Me: You can wear them later. The gloves may loosen your grip
and cause the glass to slip.
LB: But the glass feels
too hot against my palms and it is freezing otherwise.
Me: I get that. I thought of leaving my gloves behind but am changing my mind about it. I think I will wear mine as well on the hike; but only after I finish my tea. Meanwhile, I can feel my fingertips freezing.
will teach you!
Me: I know. I learnt while there is still time.
LB: Ha ha ha ha ha!
Me tad peeved: That
wasn’t soo funny!
LB: Yes, it was.
Me: How’s that?
LB without missing the blink
of an eye: Be-cauzzze…theskyissohigh!
(More ripples clearing up my morning-vision)
Me deliberating on the new found wisdom: Ah, I see. Now get on with that milk.