Time wrapped.

A shaft of sunlight pierced the dark clouds, and Hema looked up to see a silver lining, it’s a sign she thought.

They quietly stood by watching Tukra digging the spot, the spade hit the casket and it clanged.  As they brought the casket up, there was the ringing only the way the modern telephone can ring. This was set to the strains of Chittibabu’s  Fond Memories.

The trio of Sushma – Hema and Jaya were taken aback.

Inspired by their schools creation of a time capsule, as fifteen year olds, Sushma, Hema, jaya and Rekha had created their own time capsule. The idea was to place their dreams, and life visions, favourite toy, hate person and come back when they were fifty and see how they fared. But Rekha’s dying wish had been for the three of them to open the time capsule. So here they were and there were the strains of Fond Memories.

Last evening the old schoolmates had the reunion. Of course there was a memorial for Rekha, meeting up contemporaries, it was as if men and women happily or unhappily told everyone who will listen that they didn’t have an academic turn of min, or that they weren’t blessed with good memory and yet they could recite hundreds of pop lyrics and reel off information on Shahrukh Khan or Aamir Khan.  Maybe because their lives more interesting.

But this day they were digging up those promises they had made to themselves. Those dreams were written long ago around then however; they did not look backwards for very long. They kept moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things because they were curious… curiosity had lead them down new paths.  They were path breakers and trendsetters. Last evening proved that they were still the hell raisers.

It is straight logic; a person who is hungry will hunt for food high and low until it is found. The same logic for knowledge and information.  In the current scenario one did not even have to move out for knowledge and information. It was just lack of interest that came through.

Being back at school was quite pathetic, it brought back memories of everyone trying hard to be something they weren’t it was like, “I don’t know who I am, so how can I even try to be who I am much less who I’m not?..I don’t even fit the misfits…I don’t fit anywhere.” Coming to think of it, the young have always had the same problem, how to rebel and confirm at the same time.

Of course peer group steps in they stop copying their parents and copy one another.

The ringing would not stop. Finally, Jaya said,

“Let’s open the casket.” The others looked on with breathe held tight.

Hema opened the casket and moved the lavender sachets, the musty lingering fragrance of lavender was faint, and it was not as they thought it would be. The ringing now seem to stop for a while, toffee boxes in which they had placed their stuff still intact

Hema handed each one the box with their name.

Rekha’s had been left intact. The label said open me. Jaya opened the box. Nestled where Rekha’s dream and vision had to be was Rekha’s i-phone, on which it said, turn the audio recording, on and Rekha’s voice came…

My best buddies through thick and thin, sick and sin, over the last year I learnt so much. I heard the roaring sea slap against the rock, I head the whistling wind tackle the pine on the Himalayas. I felt the pouring rain that made me dance; I have skipped on the grass wet with dew. I laughed, I cried, I smiled I grieved, I shared this each time, with each one it was a i-phone5 now I rest and you move on with a i-phone 6.

A phone to remind you of our days together as teenagers, the last phase of our life when we were happy that a phone call was for us…Adieu.