Thank you, Frosty…for everything!

“Wow…What a beautiful flower!” mesmerized by the beauty of an unusual flower, I extended my hand to pluck it.

“Let it bloom”, a baritone voice from behind startled me.

As I turned around, a man came out from behind a tree. Tall, strong built, wearing a collared shirt with neatly folded sleeves, dark vest coat, trousers and a cap, he seemed to be in his 30’s.

“It’s beautiful and rare… just like you”, he explained coming near me.

“Like me?” I was puzzled by the pleasant remark from a stranger.

“Yes”.

“Wow…nobody has ever talked to me like this.” I actually liked his words and wanted to hear more.

“Really? Nobody?”, this time he was puzzled.

“No. It’s just…”, I kept looking at him. His dark eyes seemed to pierce through my soul as if they would steal all my secrets. “Umm…wait…wha…where am I?”, I looked around in surprise to find myself standing in a dense forest, “Am I in a… jungle?”

With my heart pouncing hard, I was about to have a panic attack when… “Bana, get up. Bana”.

I woke up to startled to my brother Aarav’s voice.

“Oh, God…again the same dream”, I muttered, “Couldn’t you wait a little longer. I was about to solve the mystery”.

“What mystery? Are you still dreaming? Get up, you lazy bird.” Aarav teased me and streamed out of the room with his tennis racquet.

‘Why do I dream about this flower, and who is this man?’ I wondered sitting on bed.

Unlike other dreams, this one I remembered vividly. A blue coloured flower with smooth velvet petals and a tinge of golden colour on them…quite unusual, unlike any found in real world. And that man…around 30 years old, wearing a collared shirt with neatly folded sleeves, dark vest coat, trousers, a baseball cap and always smiling…I had nicknamed him ‘Stranger’. This had become a usual occurrence since last few years but only recently the dream had become more frequent.

‘May be this happens with everyone’ and like always, I shrugged it off and went to get ready.

“Good morning, Dad”, I hugged him as part of my daily morning ritual. It was my gesture to thank him for everything.

“Good morning, Bana. Ready for Rangiri”, Dad’s smile was always a good start for the day.

“Oh, yes”, I was overly excited for long-awaited vacation.

My parents had planned a week-long holiday at Rangiri-a hill station about 600 km from our place. As Aarav had to leave for Germany the next day, he would not be accompanying us. I wanted him to come. He was my saviour in awkward situations which I usually put myself into. But I also wanted him to go ahead in his career which was important for him and us too. That’s what family is for.

“Hmm… smells good. What are you cooking, Mom?”, coming to my mother was next on my morning rituals.

“Pulao, Kripi’s favourite”, Mom answered from the kitchen, “Bana, why don’t you…”. She said something but ‘Kripi’ was all that caught my attention.

“Kripi? Is she coming?”, I asked though I didn’t want an affirmation.

“Yes, with Vishal and Ganga”, Dad replied, “They want to come with us”.

“To Rangiri? But I thought it would be just us”, all the excitement in my heart vanished leaving a frown on my face.

“More the merrier, Bana”, Dad smiled as he made out my disappointment.

Kripi and Vishal were my maternal aunt Archana masi’s children, and Ganga, the daughter of my paternal aunt whom I call Phui. While Kripi is my age, Vishal and Ganga are a year younger. Their visit to our house always dreaded me. Despite being educationally more qualified, I would always be the target of their not-so-funny humour about my relatively darker skin tone than theirs. Since ever I was ridiculed for being aesthetically less pleasing than my pretty cousins. With them nothing defined a person more than their looks especially if the person in question was a girl. I always wondered that if looks were everything, what was the need for values or education in one’s life.

I went back to my room to my best friend- My Diary-that took all my complaints and secrets within it and never revealed them to others, just like a true friend. But even it could not save me from such situations.

That day I didn’t eat much as the thoughts of being bullied occupied my mind. Sulking and talking negatively to myself, I went to sleep.

Next morning, I prayed for a reason for which the guests would cancel their trip, and as always my prayer went unanswered.

The door bell rang.

“Bana, see who it is”, Mom called out.

“As if I don’t know who it is”, muttering to myself I opened the door.

“Bana, my child” , it was Phui, “Have you been going out in sun?”

“Why?”, I asked hugging her though I already knew the answer.

“You look even more dark”

‘And here it starts…’.I faked a smile and let her hurtful query go unreplied, ‘What a great way to greet someone.’

Expecting a similar reaction from Ganga, I hurriedly hugged her formally and went inside. After a few minutes, Kripi and Vishal too arrived with masi. After snacks, guests went to get rest after a long travel. I wanted this as it brought some peace even if only for some time.

In the evening, Dad and Aarav left for the airport and the rest of us sat for dinner. I knew this was going to be the worst part of the day. Aarav, my saviour was away, Dad, who somehow understood my emotions, was away too, and Mom never confronted anyone, not even for me, though she felt bad whenever someone took a dig at me.

Starting off the conversation, Kripi pointed at my T-shirt and said, “Blue doesn’t suit you”.

“I have told her this so many times but she doesn’t listen”, Ganga took it further.

‘How can they be so blunt?’, I raised my eyes and lowered to focus on food. Unlike them I kept my thoughts to myself.

“You must taste this and tell me how it is”, Mom passed pulao to Kripi. I knew she did so to avoid any talks denigrating me but her efforts went in vain.

“You should listen, Bana”, Phui was quick to turn talks to me again,” You must wear what suits your skin tone. Blue makes you look even more dark”.

‘It is no crime to look dark and I like what I am wearing’. Constant discouragement about my looks had made me too shy to speak my mind.

“You should learn something from Kripi and Ganga”, she continued

‘Like what? How to make others feel bad about themselves?’.

“I wore it just like that. Didn’t realize it’s that bad”, I said faking a smile.

“There is nothing wrong with it. It’s …who will marry a girl who looks like you and then doesn’t even wear anything suitable either?”, Phui said without realizing how much it hurt me.

Controlling my tears, I finished my food quickly and went straight to my room. A fake smile saved the day but tears in solitude spoke the truth.

Trying hard to get to sleep, I remembered how the same people had suggested getting me married right after graduation and how my parents had gone against them by sending me for higher education.

I knew that if kept myself awake longer, Ganga and Kripi, with whom I was sharing my room, would again start discussing things I wanted to avoid.

Next morning…

“Cabs are here. Hurry up everyone”, Dad called out.

It was a beautiful rainy day.

I came downstairs with my bag to find Mrs Shankar, an old lady who lived few blocks from our house and perhaps the only person outside my family whom I loved meeting. She had been living alone after her husband passed away six years ago.

“Mrs Shankar, what a pleasant surprise!” I came running towards her and hugged her like a little child.

“Bana, my child”, lovingly she hugged me back, “you look beautiful and such lovely eyes”.

“Thanks Mrs Shankar, you made my day”, I replied with a shy smile but at least it wasn’t fake.

“I have brought your favourite cookies for you to have during journey”.

“Oh! So thoughtful of you”, I grabbed the cookies and put them into my handbag.

“I am sure this will be a life-changing journey for you, dear”, Mrs Shankar said. Her tone of voice was different that day as if she was trying to tell me a secret not to be shared with anyone else. I didn’t pay much attention to that and just smiled.

‘I hope so. My present life is a living hell with such ‘great’ people around’, I thought looking at my relatives and giving a big sigh.

Mrs. Shankar soon left. Mom, Phui, Ganga and I sat in one cab while Dad, Kripi and Vishal in the other.

We crossed Mrs. Shankar’s lawn. She waved from her house like a little child. How happy she was looking that day! And what beautiful flowers she had planted! She took great care of them like a mother.

Few hours into the journey, it started raining. I rolled down the window by my side to feel the rush of wind on my face. The smell of wet soil, cool breeze and light rain- a great combination to uplift one’s soul. I closed my eyes and… “Uh”, ’Stranger’s’ face appeared as if he was waiting for me to close my eyes and to meet me again. Freaked out I closed the window. I was too scared to close my eyes again and throughout the journey, kept myself wide awake.

“Hey Bana, can you give me your dress you were …”, Ganga asked but before she could complete I replied, “Yeah sure”. I wanted this journey to be peaceful and so was trying to be in good terms with my cousins.

After a six-hour long and tiresome journey, we finally reached our destination.

“This is the place where we’ll be staying”, Dad explained as we checked into a hotel.

It was already evening, so we directly went to our rooms and soon fell asleep.

Next morning we all gathered for breakfast and Dad started speaking out the itinerary. “A few kilometres from here is Mitas, famous for its scenic beauty. It will take around 15 minutes to reach there.”

I wore my favourite jacket and put my phone into a zipped pocket.

We started in cabs and ten minutes into the journey we came on a road with a deep valley on one side and dense forest on the other. Dad was driving the cab in which I also sat with Ganga while we hired a driver for the other. Suddenly…Dad made a sharp turn to avoid collision with the vehicle from the opposite direction.

“Ah…my arm is paining. My head…”, I looked around and found myself lying surrounded by huge trees. “Where am I? Mom…Dad…” I shouted on the top of my voice. All I remembered was travelling with my family. What happened after that was not in my memory. ‘How did I end up here?’ I was frightened. ‘What happened? Where’s everyone?’. I got up taking support from a nearby tree.

“Mom…Dad…” I again shouted with tears rolling down my cheeks.

“Hey…Why are you shouting? Nobody can hear you from here?”

I turned around to find a man trying to make his way towards me.

“Who are you?”, scared I took a step back and fell.

“Be careful, Bana”.

“Ba…how do you know me?” I looked at me with suspicion. “Did my parents tell you? Where are you?”

He extended his hand to help me get up. “Stay away”, shouting with anger and fear, I shrugged off his hand.

‘Do I know this guy? He looks familiar’.

My mobile phone rang. Fortunately, it was undamaged in my pocket. “Hello?” I answered keeping an eye on that man.

“Bana…”, it was Mom.

“Mom…, where are you?”

Dad took the phone from Mom and asked “Bana…Are you alright? Where are you?”

“I don’t know, Dad. Where are you all?”

“We are all fine, dear. Just tell me where…” and the call got disconnected.

“Ugh” I angrily pressed it. At least my parents were safe but what about the others.

“Relax”, said the man smiling.

“What?”

“Relax. We need to get out of this place in time”.

“We? Did you also meet an accident?”

“No. I lost my way”, he replied with calmness, “Let’s go”.

For someone lost in a forest with no one around to help, he seemed at peace. Finding no other option I started following him keeping a safe distance. We kept moving silently.

“So…umm…how did you lose your way?”, few minutes later I broke the silence. I tried to be brave to tell him that I was not scared.

“I came here looking for something”.

“Did you find it?”

He turned to me and smiled, “Yes”.

‘This smile…I know him but from where? Nooo…’, I stood still with fear, ‘he looks so much similar to ‘Stranger’. Same attire, cap and that smile… but how? Am I again dreaming? Oh tell me please that I am’, I kept looking at him with wide eyes.

“You are not dreaming”, he said as if he read my mind.

“What?”

“Keep moving. You don’t want to be stuck here till sunset”.

His words scared me even more and this time I started to walk faster.

“What’ your name?”, I asked him trying to prove that though I agreed to follow him, I wasn’t submissive. Deep down I knew that I was.

“Frosty”

‘Weird name’. “Do you live nearby?”

“No but I often visit here. I am fond of this place”.

Baritone voice, well built…he seemed to come from a well-to-do family. But what was he doing here? I refrained myself from asking what it was he came looking for.

Soon we reached an open space.

It was truly a scenic beauty. Stream flowing with water gushing over rocks. Mountains with peaks covered with clouds could be at a distance. A group of shepherds was taming sheep. Heavenly beautiful. Seeing other people made me a little more relaxed that I wasn’t alone

Frosty seemed confused.

“We can ask for direction from these people”, I proudly made a point.

“Sure. Go ahead”.

“Me?”, I had always been shy to talk to those I knew and just the thought of asking strangers made me panic.

“Hey relax”, Frosty said trying to calm me down, “take a deep breath and go and ask yourself”

“But why don’t you ask?”

“Well…it was your idea”.

“OK”, I reluctantly agreed and took a deep breath. I felt a strange calmness inside-was it because of the peaceful place or the absence of someone reminding me of my skin tone or was it Frosty’s gentle behaviour-I had no idea.

I went to one of the shepherds and asked for directions, “We have lost our way. Could you please help?”. He politely replied and gave directions to reach the nearest police station.

‘Wow’, I felt a sense of accomplishment. This was new. ‘Frosty’s idea really worked’.

“Hey, I asked and got the answer”, I came running to Frosty beaming with pride.

‘Must be thinking how stupid I am’.

“Not asking makes us stupid. Asking makes us wise”, he said with his charming smile.

‘Did he read my mind?’.“Tell me something about you”, her charismatic personality and good nature made me curious to know more about him.

“It’s more important to know about yourself than others”, he replied with the same calmness. His smile never left him while he talked to me.

“Meaning?”

“It’s good to ask questions, and seeking answers makes life adventurous.”

‘Stranger is a philosopher’.

I looked into my pocket for phone.

“There are no signals here and if you are looking to see what time it is… no point”, he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Managing time is good but while doing so, one should not forget to live”.

“Do you always talk like that…so philosophical?”

“Ha ha! No, only when required”, it was the first time I saw him laughing. He looked even more charming. This was the first time in my life that I was enjoying the company of someone outside my family.

“I know you said my name. How do you know me?”, I asked.

“Well…Mrs Shankar has spoken a lot about you.”

“Mrs Shankar? How do you know her?”

“There are things that you do not know about, Bana”.

“Like what?”

“You’ll come to know when the time comes. Bana, we all have problems in our lives. Our work is to overcome hurdles and reach our destination. And nobody but only you can help yourself. After all you’re unique in your own way. There’s only one you in the world. Right?”, he continued and I kept listening.

We talked about me, my family, Mrs Shankar and other things too but he was secretive when it came about his life. I observed that he talked about his past life but not much about his present. But still it was great talking to him. I felt light hearted talking about myself- my likes, dislikes. Finally there was someone who was listening to me without judging me.

Soon we reached an isolated bungalow. It was magnificent with climbers reaching its roof and beautifully decorating its balcony. Frosty opened its gate.

“Wait, Frosty. Do you know whose place it is? We cannot just enter like that. It’s trespassing”.

“It’s mine”.

‘He lives here’.

We crossed the garden. It was well-maintained. Recently watered grass and beautiful flowers. At the end was a door with a criss-cross pattern engraved in gold.

“From here you are all by yourself, Bana”.

“What? You’re leaving me?”, this sudden change in his behaviour was unwelcoming.

“No…but it would be better if you find your way or even better, carve your own, Bana”.

“But what if I get lost?”

“I won’t let you”

‘That was a little helpful’

“Patience and courage will take you a long way”, he continued.

That was deep but I needed him, not his words.

Seeing me get anxious, he pointed out to a flower.

“Do you see that flower?”. It was the same from my dream-blue, velvety petals with golden tinge. “It is a rarest flower found anywhere and finds its way even through a concrete floor. You just need to give it some time. It is the perfect example of patience and courage. You are like it. Beautiful and rare. Take pride in your uniqueness”.

Puzzled by his words, I kept looking at the flower.

He came near me. My heart beat starting racing. I wanted to hug him.

He took my hand and passed a blue stone into it, “This is for you”. It was a dark blue gem. The trapped sunrays inside it made it shine bright.

“I can’t take it”, I told him. How could accept such an expensive gift from someone i had just met?

“You must, Bana. I insist”, he said politely and firmly.

I could not say no and accepted the gift. “I’ll tell Mrs Shankar about you. I know she’ll be happy to listen.”

“Bye, Bana. Take care and remember that in your life no one has the power to make you feel low except for yourself”. Take chances and live. Let your life be dictated by your mind and heart and nothing else.”

He looked into my eyes as if he wanted to say something else too but instead walked towards the door.

“Frosty”, I called to him in a diminished voice. He turned, smiled, waved his hand and went inside.

I lifted my eyes to see the balcony expecting him to appear for one last goodbye. But he didn’t.

I felt a void in my heart as if an important part of my life had deserted me. Ready to leave, I again looked up but there was no sign of him. How could he leave me just like that? Disheartened, I left the place and walked towards the police station in the direction that the shepherd had told. Frosty’s words occupied my mind. Walking with a heavy heart, I must have walked a few metres when I hit a rock and fell.

“Careful, Bana”

“Frosty?”. I turned around but there was no one. But I am sure that I did hear his voice.

A few metres away, I saw Dad with few other people.

“Dad”, I ran to him and hugged him tightly.

“Are you alright dear?”

“I am okay. How are you? And how’s Mom and everyone?, I enquired.

“Everyone’s fine dear. Let’s take you to the doctor first”, Dad took me to a hospital where doctors called it a miraculous escape.

Next day, we left for our hometown. On arriving home, we came to know about Mrs. Shankar’s demise. Saddened to lose Frosty and now Mrs Shankar, I rushed to her house. There were some albums lying on a table.

Flipping through the black and white photographs, I came across young Mrs Shankar with her husband. They were sitting in a lawn with a huge door visible behind them. The door had a criss-cross pattern same as Frosty’s house.

Eagerly I flipped through more photographs and came across one which had a man standing next to it. It was Frosty…same attire, cap, smile and… the door. Freaked out, I rushed to my parents to enquire about him but they knew nothing. Perhaps the only person who could tell me was Mrs Shankar.

I left the album at her place and ran home to look for the blue gem Frosty gave me. It was still there in my jacket. ‘I did meet him. It wasn’t a dream’.

The same day at the dining table,

“Why are you again wearing blue? It doesn’t match your skin tone”, Kripi pointed.

I smiled and said, “Your attitude does not match mine but I still like you”. It felt so good to speak out my mind. I was not scared anymore.

Sometimes the feeling of being inferior in one aspect makes us a good listener but we should also be a good speaker…at times…for ourselves.

Few months later I went to Rangiri to enquire about Frosty. Nobody had seen or heard about him. The bungalow was never found. What remained were his memories and his lesson about life. A few months later, I went ahead to enrol myself in a course of sky diving and deep sea diving. I was no longer affected by what others had to tell me.

Today people say that I have changed for better, that my smile makes me look even more beautiful.

The truth is that my perception towards life has changed. I am no longer a dull, sulking person but someone who makes each moment count.

I never told anyone what exactly happened to me after the accident. Nor about Frosty. I don’t know who he was or how he knew me but what he told me remained with me forever.

Thank you, Frosty…for everything.

–END–