Chie (Part-IV)

What is the essence of anything? Acts we play; faces we wear; the fights we fight. What is the essence of life? They say we can achieve anything we want in our lives, if we really give our all in; but for how long? Is achievement everything? Or is there any other strategy to keep on hold of the things we achieve? I want to learn it at any cost, if there is any. I am desperate to save what I have.
I lost everything that day when I won the biggest competition of my life. I had been training for that competition for years and there I was victorious with gloomy face and somber setting. I wanted to see her again. I wanted to talk to her, share my feelings; tell her how my life is meaningless without her.
It was a long journey back home. I couldn’t comprehend why everyone around me was so happy. I was getting upset and sick of happy people. My chest was hurting with a broken heart and there were people surrounding me cheering and glorifying the auspicious victory of a life time. Our mission was complete, “Trophy to Aceh”. We got the trophy to Aceh. A big ceremony was conducted and we all were inducted. We were all awarded with scholarships and our photographs were all over the newspapers. “Students from a remote town won the most glorious competition of the land”, the headline read in block letters. As I was glorified as the victorious leader of the team, I was breaking inside in the same ratio. The medal in my neck was suffocating me, I couldn’t breathe. I felt like running away. Running to Chie.  And I decided I would travel to Sulawesi to meet her. There was no other option. But there was a huge problem. It was more than 4,000 KM away, and I was a sophomore student from a remote village with very little resources.  I had just few thousand Rupiahs I had received as the reward from the competition. I collected few more from my friends and withdrew few from my savings. My friends were in awe when they heard about my mission, but none had any doubt about my determination.
Next morning I packed my bags and took the first bus to Medan; I boarded a ferry to Jakarta from Belawan and there started the longest, toughest and most memorable journey of my lifetime. Being the cheapest option it was packed with people. I had to stand in the alley facing the sea. Time passed, the ferry passed from coast to coast, people came in and people got off; my legs hurt, but the thoughts of being with Chie diminished all the pain. At times I would cry in agony and I would see her flying in the horizon, her beautiful eyes shining like the morning stars and her voice whispering in my ears; how together we could make a beautiful couple; a family that I always longed for. How she would turn my life around and how being with her would complete me. 
Slowly the gigantic concrete skyscrapers of the Singapore appeared in my sight. The heavenly dreamland; the diamond of the east. I was lost in its scenic beauty, dreaming about some day in future, when I will be here with Chie, holding each other’s hand, building a family. I was smiling in my thoughts when suddenly someone from the back called up on me, “Hey dreamy boy, don’t get to close to stern. Get a seat.”
There was a vacant seat on the leftist part of the ferry. I went and sat beside a lady. She was with a young boy. The boy was getting restless with such a long journey. The lady would recite him a poem about the times of great wars between Sumatrans and Javanese; 

“Let’s sing, glory of the King, glory of the warriors,
The walls that were built, strong were the barriers;
All those wars, fought in our pious land
No blood was shed, captives neither held;
The bull was defeated, the calf triumphed,
Javanese were chased, we Sumatrans kvelled.”
 
“Poems are boring”, revolted the little child. “Tell that story of Cat and Tiger”. The lady smiled and pulled him closer.
She began, “So once upon a time, Cat and Tiger used to be very close cousin. They used to play together and help each other when in need. One day the tiger was very hungry, roaming around the jungle for food, couldn’t get any. Suddenly he saw a cat in one of the trees, gulping bananas.”
 
“Hey cousin, spare me some bananas, not that I like them, but the sweet banana would give me some strength to hunt a deer deep in the jungle.” Cried the Tiger.
 
The cat, took note of the situation. His hungry cousin may devour him before searching for a deer. Cunningly he replied,  ”Oh, mighty cousin, I shall share my bananas with you only in one condition. Open your mouth and close your eyes, the sweetness shall give you more strength that way.”
 
The tiger agreed and complied. The cat jumped over the tiger pooping into the beast’s mouth.” The kid burst into laughter. He repeated, “the cat pooped in tiger’s mouth”. He chuckled again. The lady looked at the child with shining eyes and smile in her face.
“Then what happened?” I asked, curious about the ending of the story. The lady looked at me surprisingly; she hadn’t realized, I was listening to her that closely.
“The tiger yelled, “now that I know how your poop smells, I shall hunt you and punish you for this, cousin”. And that is why cats always hide their poop.” The little child completed the story.
 
I remembered my mother, and the stories she used to tell me. Hers stories were always sad. There was this story of a boy called Malin Kundang. He goes abroad to earn money while his mother waits for him in the pier. One day he arrives with riches and a beautiful wife. He refuses to recognize a poor old woman as his mother and ask his bodyguard to take her away. The mother gets hurt and curses him to become a stone.
Now I realize it was not just a story, these were the tools to engineer the child’s brain so that they would think about their parents above all. Else they would convert to stone. But metaphorically speaking, everyone turns to stone eventually. I had turned to stone; leaving my life, parents and everything in Aceh, I was travelling this distance to be with the love of my life. I was confident that, the magical princess would convert the stonified me into a human again.
I finally reached Jakarta after 3 days of ferry travel. My friend had given a contact address of an ally in Jakarta, where I could rest and continue another 3 days of ferry ride again. I found a payphone and tried calling but nobody answered. Then I decided to go to the address. It was a small village just outside of Jakarta. I got to the front door and knocked, to which a young lady answered. She was very lean, with noticeable dark circles around her eyes and very dark lips, probably due to heavy smoking. She let me in. The door opened to a dark and narrow passage to a messy living room. It seemed like the room wasn’t cleaned in ages.
“He’s here!” She shouted. “Whoever he is.”
“Be polite eh. He is a guest.” Someone answered from the inside. His voice was interfered with the pressure cooker’s whistle and was not understandable.
“What?” She shouted.
“Shut up eh.” He cried. A half naked young man, with t-shirt in his arm came out from a small room.
“You are finally here eh. The lover boy eh. I’m cooking for you eh.” He used to add eh in every sentence for no reasons and used to wink with a grin. It looked very creepy. He was tall and lean, with dark circles in his eyes too. He had piercing in his nose. “Don’t mind my sister eh. She is foolish eh.”
“You are the stupid one, inviting strange people in the house.” She shouted from the inside.
“Don’t mind her eh. Make yourself comfortable eh.”
There was no place to be comfortable in that house. I put my bag down and sat in the couch gently.
“Here is dinner eh”, he came out of the small room with two plates of rice and lentils. I was very hungry and tired of sitting in the ferry all day and night. I started eating, it was surprisingly good.
“The food is very tasty.” I gave him the compliments.
“Let me tell you a secret eh. I burnt the food and ordered this shit online eh. Don’t tell her eh.” He grinned.
“And that pressure cooker whistle?”
“Boiling water for distraction eh.”
We both laughed for a while at that.
“So lover boy. Travelling for a girl eh. Does she know you are coming eh?”
“I haven’t communicated with her since the day we last saw each other. But in my heart I know she knows that I am coming for her. You know they say, if you want something to happen with a true heart and faithful love, all the gods come together to make it happen.”
“What if she is not in Sulewasi eh? Where will you go? Any back up plans eh?”
“I don’t know. She is the only plan.” I sighed. I had never thought about this. I Just didn’t let this “what if” question arise in my mind till that time. And now my mind was filled with all sorts of what if questions. “What if she doesn’t recognize me?” “What if she has already left?”
No, that’s not true. I must follow my heart. My heart knows that she is there. Waiting for me.
“Anyway, you can sleep in the couch eh. Just shout if you need anything eh.”
“And leave quietly in the morning eh. Don’t wake us up eh.” He winked, grinned and entered another room.
I checked my purse and kept it in my coats inside pocket. I started thinking about Chie. What would I tell her? What would we talk about? I felt nervous even thinking about it. I have already made jerk of myself twice in front of her. Maybe I should write a poem for her. It must be the most beautiful poem ever written, to the most beautiful girl in the world. How shall it start? Huh…
 
The roads that I chose, the strides that I took,
All lead me to you, I’m thankful to those;
I was wandering alone, in this jungle of solitude,
Found a lifetime of union in you, I’m thankful for that;
Did blunders in the course, lost paths and lost hope,
You appeared as the torchbearer and reignited my soul with love,
I’m thankful for that.
Who is the greatest?
The one who throes you?
Or the one who saves you?
You exhibited the true majesty,
I’m thankful to you.
 
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I suddenly woke up. My whole body was aching. I looked around in the dark, it took a moment to recollect and realize where I was. My watch showed 4 am of the morning. I got out and walked outside. There were very few people in the streets. The poem was being recited again and again in my mind. I was smiling to have prepared a poem in the dream for my dream girl.
 
I took a train from Jakarta to Surabaya. I watched the sunrise from the train, how sun light activates the world. The people slowly wake up and start their routines. The world runs in a strange mechanism. Every morning you wake up according to your situations, with your ambitions and struggle the whole day for its achievement. How far can you go? How much can you sacrifice? Life doesn’t give you what you want so easily. So every morning you wake up to go a little farther, to fight a little more until there is no time left for you. My mother used to tell me, “Son, don’t take life too seriously. The next day of your death will be two days since your death. Then a month and a year. Everything and everyone around you will slowly move on.” If that is the real essence then why are all these struggles? Why is this existential crisis?
 
My ferry appeared in the coast and I rushed towards the harbor with my bag packs. I couldn’t risk of standing another 2 days long ferry ride. I got a comfortable seat and slept the whole trip. I just woke up to eat and for washroom. Finally I reached Makassar. My legs froze as I came down the stairs of the ferry. I had reached the city, I could feel her there. I took a deep breath. I gathered all the money I had, from all my pockets and purses and hired a cab. “Take me to the cancer treatment center”, I said with a sigh.
I went in the hospital. The enormous building was creeping on me. I was suffocating with nervousness and was having short breath. I dragged myself to the inquiry counter and uttered just one word, “CHIE”.
“64B”, he replied and showed towards the eastern staircase. I gathered all my strength and rushed, I ran 6 floors up and found her. There she was. In a room of glass. Alone.
She was very lean, her head was bald and she didn’t have that shine in her eyes anymore. She had wires connected all over her body. “Is this my Chie?” I asked myself. I slowly walked towards her, she felt something, turned and saw me coming through the glass door. I could see the disbelief in her eyes. She stood up from the chair in a reflex and fell down. She was not strong enough even to carry herself. Her disbelief turned to horror and tears poured from her eyes. The doctor and the hospital staff came running beside me. The wires and the attached computer must have reported her fall. The doctor gave me a frown and entered the glass room.
“It’s not the visiting hours, man. Why did you have to run? She isn’t going anywhere anytime soon,” said the man from the counter. I looked at him and asked, “When is the visiting hour?”
“After 5 pm every day.”
It was half past 6 in my watch. The doctor fixed the wires and made her sleep in the bed.
“No more visitors today”, he announced.
I sat there in the floor, outside the glass door, looking at that bald head with a glass face. The love of my life lay there, 5 ft from me, but couldn’t touch her, hold her or even come near her. I wanted to put her in my arms. I wanted to kiss her, all over her face. I wanted to make her feel love. Such an irony of life, I travelled thousands of miles to be with her but a mere glass wall kept me apart. I sat in the floor whole night. I don’t know when I fell asleep there. When I woke up, I saw a pair of eyes staring at me. The most beautiful pair of eyes in the world. Her fair white skin was so thin; you could see all the arteries and veins beneath it. Her eyes slowly filled with tears and the teardrops slowly fell on her cheeks. There was no movement of any kinds. It was just her eyes and I could feel the millions of questions she was asking me.
“Why are you here?  What do you want? This and that, and the most important one, “Can you save me?” I didn’t have the answer for the last one. The doctor came for the morning check and seeing me sitting there on the floor for the whole night, called me inside with him. Finally I was beyond the glass door.
The doctor examined her as per her regular routine and left me with her. “Make it short. And only happy chats, okay,” he said.
I nodded.
I sat down in her bed beside her. She couldn’t look me in my eyes.
“I am here for that date, you promised,” I flirted. She smiled. Just for a moment, I could see the shine in her eyes.
“I couldn’t keep on my promise. I am sorry.” She replied in a weak voice.
“I am not someone who contents with an apology. I cling onto the promises and won’t leave until its fulfilled.”
“You may have to wait longer than you think.”
“I have made up my mind to wait for a life time.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. I kissed her in the forehead. She closed her eyes and settled down in the bed. I let go of her head, and slowly moved out. Tears streamed from my eyes as I exited the glass door. The walls of the hospital started creeping on me. Claustrophobia got a hold over me. I got completely blinded by the tears. I ran down the stairs as fast as I could. I could only breathe once I was outside the gate. The bald head kept flashing over my eyes. I saw everyone around me with bald head. All the people in the streets, in the cars and buses had a bald head. It was a bald city.
 
Next day I composed myself and went to meet her doctor. He stated that only miracle could save her. I told him all the story there was. He was awed at first then was bewildered when I requested him to give me a job and a place to stay. He gave me the job of a mop man of 6^th floor. Her parents used to visit her each day at 5 PM. They would bring her medicines, clothes and all that she needed. They would try to make her happy and pray for a miracle to happen. Every day at 5 pm I used to go for a prayer. I used to pray to all the gods of all religions. I always wished a single wish, a single miracle.
I would be there with her at all the times. We used to talk about almost everything all day, until she would get tired and sleep. I had given her a bell, she would ring it when she wanted me around. Our talks would range from daily affairs to moon landing. She always had a clear stand about the things she believed. I realized she was a much better debater than me and she would have easily owned me in that competition. I lost each and every debate with her.
She was a fighter. She was always cheerful and joyous even in her death bed. She had won over the pain and nothing else could impair her anymore. Few weeks later, she closed her eyes in my arms, like she did the first time; only this time, she didn’t open them again. That girl, so smart, she had prepared me to face this day. And as everything she did, she perfected in that too. I sat there emotionless, losing the only ray of light in my life. The only reason to exist was no more. We had discussed about so many things I should do in my life. I should be a actor, dancer, teacher, etc. She had requested me to be a writer, a storyteller. To tell our story.