The Tell Tale Child

The jealous ones thought she was queer and the others of her sex thought she was childish. The boys thought she was funny. That is what they thought when they saw her walking, twisting and turning, even on straight roads. The elder ones thought she was just gay because they always saw a skip in her gait. Zephyra herself never wondered why she walked so strangely, going round a curve when she could have just walked straight. She never gave a thought about things she did naturally. Her thoughts were already occupied. With beasts! She always kept a look out for birds and animals. She whistled softly when she saw the birds and pretended she understood what the birds chirped in reply or what the squirrels squeaked or when the dogs gave those understanding looks with their tails between their legs. She was lost in her thoughts; in her wild world of animals. Presently she walked to the cafeteria for dinner. A pleasant breeze blew across and she twisted and took a turn, pulled her hand out of the pockets of her jeans and felt the wind slip through between her fingers.

Zephyra is an undergraduate student studying physics. At the dinner table, Jessica, her neighbour from her dormitory talked to her about courses on quantum mechanics. After a long discussion on the number and kind of courses available on quantum mechanics and a short discussion on some of the things that Zephyra had learnt which she thought might interest a layman, Jessica had decided that Zephyra is a master in quantum mechanics. So she asked what an exciton is. Zephyra stared at her for a while, waiting for her to shrug and say, "just kidding". When the shrug never came, she shrugged herself and said, "I don't know". Jessica asked again, "Oh come on, now. Obviously you know", to which Zephyra replied, "Obviously?". They never saw each other eye to eye again. Zephyra never thought about it later. She never thought about things she did not need. She carries herself most elegantly but never carried much about her. Her luggage, when she visited her parents during vacation, was just a backpack . She did not carry a cell phone. She did not carry an iPod. She did not have those plugs in her ears – the recent trend in fashion. She mostly wore long light tops and jeans and she looked very graceful and serene in them with her long auburn hair flowing. Always. The only thing she always carried, she carries it in her mind – lores on magic and legendary other worldly characters. Eager to get away from her annoying mates and even more eager for her next stop, she stepped into the coffee shop. "Hiya!", she said cheerfully to the cafe-keeper, a young boy, and stood eagerly on her toes to attract his attention. "Hey", said the boy, "what will it be today?". "The usual, please", said Zephyra smiling. While the boy poured the caffè latte in to the paper cup, Zephyra asked, "You do remember we did not finish the story, don't you?". The boy turned around, handed her the cup and smiled in agreement. He started telling her folk lores he knew to impress Zephyra and buy her attention. The boy had a crush on her. But as days passed by, his infatuation turned into affection and respect and he began to buy obscure books so he could tell her a new story every day. Washing down her dinner with the coffee she stood by the stall and listened to the narration ignoring the other customers who gave her looks of all kinds.

Zephyra was raised in Kerala, God's own country. She has been told she is a God-given child. But she believed she is a goddess herself. She fortified this faith through logic. Her origins are unknown. She was adopted by a Christian mother and a Hindu father. Her mother told her stories of how her father found her in a forest. Marianne, her mother would tell stories from Hindu mythology, stories of how Lord Mani Khantan was similarly found in a forest. When Marianne was not telling her stories, she would be found either reading a book or stuck to the TV watching animated episodes of superheroes, of the Amazon Woman and the Cat Woman. Zephyra was enchanted by all those stories. She would not sleep even at the age of 19, with out her mama telling her a story. She would go to sleep imagining all those stories.

And then there were these few events that happened in her life: She was six years old when she was playing with her little buddies building sand castles in the backyard of her friend's house, when the dog in the house had a bout of bad temper and came growling at the little children. It can not be known whether it was a coincidence or whether Zephyra really had an ability or if the black bird watching over the children from a tree did something, but the dog was calmed down at a touch of Zephyra's tiny gentle palm. She tried to hold the dog off from pouncing on her friend and the castle. She was, indeed, scared to death then, even went as pale as dead, but she went to bed that night feeling warm and rosy. They praised her. The parents and elder people thanked her. They told her she was an angel. Another day, four years later, she talked a snake out of her kitchen while the elders of the house went to fetch clubs to drive the snake away. Zephyra began to grow weary of her mundane world, when the most memorable event of her life happened to her six years later. Zephyra loved the season of festivals during summers. Pooram is a festival held at different temples in Kerala. The prominent lords of the region vie each other for putting up a superior performance. Performance includes music of a different kind (and that is the only one of its kind!), fireworks and a show of prowess by displaying the best elephants they own. On this particular Pooram, one of the elephants went rogue and ran amok, trampling one and everything in its way: mostly stalls and a couple of unfortunate individuals. Everybody ran helter skelter. They ran in all directions, just as long as it leads away from the elephant. You can not imagine the confusion and misery the whole scene causes, if you have never been to this festival. Hundreds of grown ups running around crazy, shrieking. No matter what direction Zephyra ran, she could not push herself through the crowd. She called out for her friends who were beside her a while ago. Tears began to well up in her eyes. And then she saw the giant animal prowling with its huge body towards her, towering over the petty scuttling humans. Her eyes widened with fear and respect for the strength that, she was sure, was going to come crushing down on her. In that brief moment she remembered the general advice everybody gave about elephants turning rogue. She remembered being told that you always stand in front of the elephant, because when the elephant turns rogue, it always turns around before it starts running. But nobody told her what to do if she was in the way of a rogue elephant. It could be, she figured, because there would not be much you could do, except perhaps admire the magnanimity and power of wildness. Her ears boomed with the trumpet of the elephant. She raised her head to see the ragged rocky features under the elephant's foot. She squirmed and closed her eyes. And then there was a hush. The crowd began to calm down. The noise abated and Zephyra opened her eyes to see the elephant step back, turn left and walk away, while the crowd gave way to the mighty animal. Nobody, of course, noticed the small boy that walked beside it, patting its legs.

No doubt, these events, the circumstances in which she was born and raised and the stories she read, heard and watched, took to her fantasy. She fancied she had superpowers too. She thought she would one day show the abilities of feline creatures. She loved cats. She would imagine at school, at lunch watching her palms. She would imagine that any moment then, a claw would show itself and she would retract it before her friends see. She would imagine this everyday. Despite the daily reality, she was never disappointed. She would dream of lions, tigers and cats. She would dream of being the queen at whose feet lay those lazy feline fur-balls, pretending to be asleep but ready to jump to action at her command. She would dream of small adventures. She would get hurt now and then and she would lick her wounds. She would dream of becoming one with nature. Everything was as she pleased.

Returning from her coffee, Zephyra walked up the stairs, in the dark, to her room. She imagined her eyes glinting like that of a cat. She smiled, embarrassed, as some one walked down beside her, intruding upon her fantasy. Reaching the second floor, she walked along the corridor. Reaching the third door, she stopped, almost knocked on the door and then stepped back in hesitation. Vanitha was the only girl she found pleasant to talk to and be with. They became good friends over the course of two years. Vanitha was a down-to-earth girl who believed only in hard work. She was always cheerful and has never let anything put her down. But lately, she has not talked to Zephyra much. She did not show up much outside her room. Zephyra did not want to intrude. Zephyra felt Vanitha was so close to her that she would never have to ask anything that Vanitha did not tell her. At the door, she prayed to her God to take care of her friend and moved on to the next door. She stepped into her room and seeing the stuffed Hobbes thought again of Vanitha. She laid down on her bed and tapped on the wall. There was no response. Zephyra sighed. Then she put off the lamp, pulled her blanket over, thought about the story the cafe-keeper was narrating to her: the story of Samson and Delilah, felt her hair and tried to wonder. Trying to think always made her sleepy.

***
Dream At Dawn

'... modified light-matter interaction between excitons and photons in ...'

'... for the first time that excitons can be controlled with an electric field ...'

She opened another book at a random page and finding the word exciton slammed it close. 'Its funny', she thought walking out of the library, 'I never came across the word exciton until yesterday and now its everywhere I look!', wondering if she should hate Jessica and then wondered if she could hate her any more than she already does. Zephyra had an appointment with a professor today and she had to prove that she is genuinely interested in working on Photonic Crystals. Science is an entirely different realm for Zephyra. Zephyra is not interested in contributing to advancement of technology. She hated technology. So far she had studied science purely for the sake of knowledge. She liked to keep and add to her scientific knowledge. Science filled her muses when she did not have a story to think and delve in. Every time she looked at something interesting, every time she heard something interesting, she would explain to herself, using Science, the three questions that would appear in her head: why, what and how. But she held Science with a sense of detachment. She regarded Science as a tool for giving explanations. So when her curiosity was gratified with a supply of explanations, she never looked back. She marveled and wondered at the ability that Science gives to explain almost anything in the world. She also felt contempt when giving explanations ruins the little wonder and marvel the object might have held otherwise. And so, every thing she explained with Science became a part of a world that she desperately wanted to be out of. For once, though, she stumbled upon a field that she believes might turn the wheels of time backwards. She associated sorcery to crystals and believed that studying photonic crystals might, at least, open a Pandora's box of legends if not a portal to ancient times and another world. Besides Zephyra is not bad at dealing with theories and theorems. She was looking for books on crystals and optics, but her mind is occupied with something else. Finding the word exciton in every other book, only turned her from being irate to being fury.

Zephyra is a curious child and never leaves unexplored anything she can lay her hands on. She is usually very scientific and modern in her thinking and outlook and is open to any view on subjects she did not study much. But today she would not explore and know what an exciton actually is. She was satisfied with what little logical explanation her intuitive brain had offered on the subject. 'It must be a state of a particle and an antiparticle which can emit light when the exciton collapses... must be something like that.. why do I care..' were her thoughts as she coldly walked out of the library, swooping down a little, under nothing, startling the gate keeper. Logic came easy to her. Especially so, today, as her brain tried to give a hundred logical reasons to explain that something that's been preying on her mind. A hundred logical explanations to what happened to her this morning.

Presently, she is inside a classroom attending a lecture on Nonlinear Dynamics. It is a large classroom admitting about fifty and a hundred pupils. The Spanish professor is an old man with every bit of him a contradiction to every other bit: black hair and wrinkled skin, blue pupils and brown eye brows. He would appear complacent and rather lazy on the corridors and even in his office which makes it all the more surprising to attend his lectures delivered with such vigour and energy. Everybody attends his lectures, if not for anything else, to witness the dramatic change from sobriety to eagerness with which he reaches for his students; his eyes bulging large and bright, eye brows flying high above their boundaries, hands and fingers jutting out in random gestures. He would make witty allusions to politics and current affairs, which nobody but few notice and appreciate. Vanitha always noticed them. But she is absent from the class today. Zephyra attends all his classes because he is one professor in the college who, to her, was worth paying respect and learning what he teaches. For what he teaches, he teaches sincerely: never falters, has answers to any questions asked, and most importantly he can make the student realise and correct any misconception he/she has had. She appreciated his class the most. But it held no attraction to Zephyra today. Science no longer held its sway for Zephyra. Perhaps, it will never anymore. 'Having studied logistic map in detail, bifurcation and ljapunov exponent, we will now close this course with two lectures on physical manifestation of all the theory we have learnt, a phenomenon called SYNCHronisation. We will first do away with maths...', proceeded the professor, walking towards the green board. Zephyra paid no attention and was deep in thoughts about herself. The lecture is distracting her, failing her from trying to remember.

She was prowling with her fellow cats in the great forests of her imagination. She was hunting down a hare just for the sake of giving it a run. She was having fun, watching the world flip by as she sprinted behind the startled hare. She ran and ran until she came to the edge of a cliff. The hare vanished. She turned into her humane form. Somebody nudged, or so she felt and before she could turn around, she was falling. Off the cliff. She was facing the earth during her fall, feeling the winds' slippery clutches on her slim body. She was frantically looking for something to stop her fall, but there was nothing within her reach and only the earth waited 70 feet below from where she was pushed off. She did not notice who pushed her. May be it was the wind. May be it was in her head. But she no longer cared about that. She was falling. She began to imagine how her own weight, despite being way too low for her age, would crush her on impact. She could no longer imagine the strength of feline limbs supporting a fall. Fear tore at her heart while the wind ripped through her throat, across her eyes bringing tears and across her ears howling and screaming like wolves and ghosts on a haunted night. She wanted to look at the green wilderness surrounding her for one last time, but her head was in the clutches of her emotions, fixing the vision to the approaching terrain, calculating the impulse of the impact, wondering if her fragile bones can withstand it. 'Fragile? Feline bones ain't fragile. Oh! But what am I thinking, even in this damned hour?', her thoughts raced. But she has got no time to think about anything now. She is only a moment away ...

... from scaring herself to wake. She woke up to find herself drenched in sweat and tears. Feeling the tears on her cheeks with her fingers (her fingers were long, longer than those of an average woman of her age) she doubted if it was real. But her logical brain was already giving an intuitive explanation: 'must have been crying out of fear'. The dream indeed felt so real to her. She remembered the rough terrain, every stone and pebble and a worm. She remembered the heavy gravity with which she was pulled down. But she missed. She missed and woke from her sleep. She got off the bed and walked to the dressing table. She was very thirsty. 'The wind must have dried up your throat', came the reason. She picked up the glass and raised her head to drink. The feeling of that vague safety turned to true horror as she stared at her image in the mirror. The glass slipped and shattered, making the noise of hands clapping!

Her attention is brought back to the classroom by the sound of the claps. She flushed thinking the professor had caught her daydreaming and has asked the class to wake her up by clapping. What a shame! She knew she was the most sincere student. She knew she would never misbehave in his class. What a shame, she had to be caught in her weakest moment. She was going to stand up to apologise, but the professor raised his hand signaling to stop the clapping and spoke, 'Did anybody notice anything?' A confusion of confessions from the whole class was accepted as "Synchro". 'Yes. That's right. It started off randomly. But after a while, you heard everyone clapping in sync. If any of you happened to notice whether it was you that fell into the rhythm or the rest of the class that adjusted, come and see me after the class. I would like to do some psychology tests on you. Now, see this', he said, showing a video of fireflies near a river bank to a class of giggling students, 'it's a video I had taken on my visit to Korea. The video is being played faster than the real time to mark the drama.' Zephyra watched a single flash here and there slowly begin to synchronise and a few moments later, it appeared as if all the fireflies were flashing together in a state of artificial trance. The professor spoke again, 'I am sure not all of you have heard of synchronisation before this course. I am sure most of you have never seen it happening. But now that you know what it is, I tell you, you will find it everywhere you look.' Zephyra raised her eye brow muttering to herself, 'déjà vu?' remembering the word exciton and then feeling bitter at the back of her tongue. If Vanitha saw her contorted face now, she would laugh out loud. But Vanitha is absent from the class. The lecture became a distant drone again. The end of the hour bell rang but from somewhere far and the class began to disperse noisily. That noise only fell on Zephyra's deaf ears, for even now she can only hear the howl and scream of the air in her flight. Zephyra dragged herself out of the class, bumped into a few willing people, excused herself inadvertently and walked out of the common corridor towards the college entrance arch. The evening is hot. 'It must be cloudy', she looked up to see a clear sky. 'Science can fail sometimes. Exceptions', she shrugged. The air near the arch pillars is shimmering. 'Mirage', she thought to herself. The bright saffron sun is making its way to bed steadily. She can see people leaving college in groups – twos and fives mostly. The singles are running. She felt tired. But she still took the most painful and tiresome curves in her path. She is grateful her jealous mates are not here today to bully her. She thanked fate and chance for her much wanted solitude. But she missed some one. Perhaps she was missing her friend very much. Perhaps if she talked to Vanitha, everything would be alright again. Yes, there is no doubt about it. She stepped in to the coffee shop on her way to her dorm. "Hi", she tried to sound cheerful. 'Hey! Surprise visit?', the cafe keeper raised his eye brows. Zephyra giggled and asked for a chocolate, "No, not the Five Star, she likes Dairy Milk better". "Put it on my tab, Joe", she said and ran. She reached the third door on the second floor and after a moment's hesitation she raised her hand to knock.

***
Vanitha

Zephyra was about to knock, when the door squeaked open a little and Vanitha looked into Zephyra's eyes,"You don't have to knock. My spare keys are with you after all". "You can keep your spare keys.", retorted Zephyra, "They are not what I want to hang around with". The door opened fully, "Come on in", said Vanitha with her eyes cast down, "Please keep the keys with you". If anything has to be said about Vanitha, it should be her obsession with cleanliness. She kept herself tidy with hair parted in two plaits and plenty of talcum on her face. Vanitha preserved the orthodox ways of her mother. Her room was always tidy. If it were not for Zephyra, one would have thought Vanitha was a ghost. There would have been no trace of her having ever lived in the room. But Zephyra was her best friend and she could not bring herself to deny her friend when she wanted to fill Vanitha's walls with graffiti. Zephyra knew Vanitha well enough and so she drew characters from fairy tales on the walls, walking through forests, forests with black lines and curves. "What were you doing?", inquired Zephyra. "Sleeping", Vanitha replied with a shrug. Zephyra looked at the bed all neat and done, with out a wrinkle.

"Sleeping?"
"Yea", Vanitha sat on the edge of the bed, while Zephyra sat on the chair.

"You have not been to the classes for two days"

"Yea.. I am still within twenty percent limit"

"Of course you are. But you have not been out of your room for these two days"

"Of course I have been. Food does not grow in my room and I don't bathe in my room"

"Sure you don't", murmured Zephyra, "Have you been eating well?"

"What are you being so fussy about?"

"I have been eating alone for the last two days and I don't think I like the company of those ...",

Zephyra's voice trailed away.

"I am sorry. I just wanted to be alone"

Zephyra waited for Vanitha to tell her more. She waited and gave up. "Oh so you have been going through old photos? Feeling nostalgic, are we? Missing home?", asked Zephyra flipping through the album on the table.

"Hmm"

After another long wait. Zephyra wanted to slap and shake Vanitha. 'You are making me feel so lonely, you fool', she thought to herself and wished Vanitha would hear her thoughts.

"Hey! This is a nice pic. Its so sketch-able. I can turn it into a nice sketch, girl!"

Vanitha fumbled through her bag and produced a pencil and a sketch pad. Zephyra started sketching the photo. She marked the points to get her proportions right and then she began to make light lines.

"I think I am missing my grandfather now", said Vanitha, almost to herself.

Vanitha's grandfather had died of old age when she and Zephyra were in Chennai on an internship. It was sudden and Vanitha could not make a trip to pay her last visit. She last saw her grandfather two years before. She remembered going with him to temples and to buy grocery and when she parted with him, she never thought that would be the last time she would see him. Had she known, she might have taken a good look at him. She might have even stayed longer. When she heard the death news, she did not know how to react. She could not remember his face. She could not cry. She could not feel the loss. She lived hating herself for being such a cruel, cold-hearted person. She loved her grandfather so much, she stopped being herself after hearing the death news and not feeling anything about it. She renounced everything and kept herself aloof. Zephyra did not know what to do to help and would only look at the idol of Jesus on the crux and wonder what makes humans such wretched creatures. They returned from internship. One night, Zephyra heard hammering sound on the wall between their rooms. And then she heard muffled cries. Zephyra had to use the spare key to open the door, to find Vanitha hitting her head on the wall. That night she cried, like she never did. Zephyra did not understand whether she cried for her grandfather or for not being able to cry when she heard the news. When Vanitha told why, Zephyra cried, too, like she never did. From among those sobs and hiccups, Vanitha told Zephyra in a whisper, "I can not remember his face, Zephyra. I can't remember a bit. I wanted to remember his face before I cried", hitting her head with her palm.

Zepyhra still remembers the night Vanitha was hysterical. It was a cruel sight to see such an innocent child torn down by grief. That was probably the only night, the sheets on Vanitha's bed were dishevelled. There was broken plastic glass on the floor and a dead vase amidst the rubble. There were muffled shrieks in the room. There was blood where the nails ran over her face. Hey eyes were red as if the shortage of tears was forcing blood to be shed. Halfway through the madness, Zephyra embraced her friend, hoping she could absorb a part of the grief. In the very least she could stop Vanitha from hurting herself. But it was too much for Zephyra to take. The wound was too deep for Zephyra to understand. And Vanitha could see no comprehension in Zephyra's eyes. Only pity. And Vanitha could find no mercy, no comfort. She would leave no quarter for Zephyra's solace. She crumbled, weary, leaning against the wall. She buried her head in her knees and howled; so deep and grief-stricken, Zephyra was scared and left her alone. 'May be she needed to cry out. May be then she will find some peace. May be I am just defending my cowardice'. Zephyra stepped into her own room and sat by the wall, listening to Vanitha's cries on the other side. There is small lump bitter lump in her throat. It hurt her larynx, stifled the vocal chords. It seemed like an eternity to Zephyra, before the cries stopped. She waited. She tapped on the wall.

"Vanitha?"

"Anything. Anything for some memories. Please", Vanitha begged.

"Vanitha, are you okay?"

"Do you have to ask? Your eyes tell me, you comprehend. You know the answer. Give me what is mine. Please"

"What are you mumbling, girl?"

The glimmer of Darkness

The little boy sitting in front of Vanitha on his knees, reached for and raised Vanitha's head. He touched the tears flowing across her cheeks. He brought the fingers closer and examined the tear drops with interest. Then he smelled it. "I bet this is going to taste acidic, too", he said staring into a dumb-stricken Vanitha, with a little disgust. "Oh! You might want to listen to her", he remembered and pointed to a dark shadowy figure sitting on the bed. The boy stood up and proceeded to examine the room, the sketches on the wall, the broken shards on the floor and would later sit beside the figure on the bed, dangle his legs and stare at Vanitha with much amusement.

The shadowy figure made a conversation with Vanitha, but no sound emanated from her.

"I can't remember him", confided Vanitha in a whisper

"You love him so very much. But what you ask for comes at a price"

"Anything. Anything for some memories. Please", Vanitha begged.

"Even your life?"

"Do you have to ask? Your eyes tell me, you comprehend. You know the answer. Give me what is mine. Please"

"So do you, child. Not many judge me like you do. The darkness has the strength and the mercy to let the light glow. You shall have what is yours and in return I shall take what is mine"

Vanitha (Contd....)

'Oh boy! She has gone delirious', thought Zephyra and sprang to her feet. She ran to the door. "Open the door, Vanitha". Impatience is irresistible. Without waiting, Zephyra used the duplicate keys and opened the door, to find Vanitha standing, with her palms joined across her bosom and a smile on her lips, staring into the air. The sketch on the wall, thought Zephyra. Vanitha turned to Zephyra and said softly,"I can remember now. His eyebrows. His...". Vanitha now payed full attention to the wall ahead. "I can remember now. Yes. I can. Thank you. Thank you", she broke into soft tears, "Thank you. Thank you, Oh Angel of the Dark. Thank you" Zephyra, walked swiftly towards Vanitha and shook her, touched her forehead with the back of her palm, "You are running cold".

"I am alright", replied Vanitha and hugged her and sobbed softly.

Vanitha overcame her grief eventually. Things returned to normal. As normal as it can get, after losing someone very dear. Time, Zephyra believed, is a great healer. And Time, she also knew, causes new wounds. And so it was a matter of time, before Vanitha was overcome with another shadow. Only this time, Zephyra did not know whats ailing her friend. And she hated not knowing it. She felt a wave a relief when Vanitha admitted that she was missing her grandfather. She thought Vanitha is going to confess, but the confession never came. When Zephyra looked up from her sketching, Vanitha was trying to draw, too. Vanitha was never good with pencil and drawing and anything artsy. Vanitha drew up a stick and ball figure of a girl with flowing hair holding hands with another girl with two plaits. Vanitha looked up and beamed. Zephyra smiled and said, "You might want to give labels for others to identify". "Or, you could be the only one of those others to see this and you already know who is who", retorted Vanitha. Zephyra stared at Vanitha for a while, heard some one within her say,'She is just fine', smiled, held Vanitha's hand, twisted it to look at the watch and said,"Dinner?". "Sure", came the reply. 'A good meal after two days', Zephyra said to herself.

They groaned when they reached the cafeteria. They managed to gulp down some food and quickly went out to the coffee shop.

"Two coffee before we throw up", said Zephyra hastily.

"Another bad meal?", asked Joe.

"The worst"

"Hmm..", Joe handed out two cups of coffee,"A story?"

"Oh! sorry. Not today Joe. Taking a walk with Vanitha"

"Ok. Tomorrow then"

"Sure. Oh, add the chocolate to the bill"

Zephyra and Vanitha walked the streets, lit with yellow neon lamps, talking. Zephyra complained about Jessica. She talked about how she was scared about being caught dozing in the nonlinear dynamics class. She talked about how someone nicked the attendance sheet away and the professor threatened to punish the whole class. They walked back to their rooms, still talking.

"So you are gonna come for classes tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I am"

Zephyra thought she saw a tinge of grief, a lurking shadow.

"Sure? You want me to wake you tomorrow?"

"What? I wake up earlier than you", Vanitha tried to smile.

"Ok. Goodnight then"

"Goodnight"

Vanitha did not show up the next day either.

***
Rendezvous

Zephyra half hoped that she would have the same dream as the last night. She hoped she would remember it this time. But she did not dream. She did not even have the usual dreams about running around chasing innocent bunnies. When she woke up, her brain was already giving her reasons, 'So you were indeed worried about Vanitha. Now that you have talked to her yesterday, you did not have any nightmare. So everything is OK'

On her way to the classes, Zephyra stopped at Vanitha's door. She wondered if she should check in, but believed that Vanitha is either praying or is already on her way to the class. Either way, she did not want to knock on the door. When she reached the class, she did not find Vanitha. She would wait. Some boy came up to her and said, "D'ya mind if I sit here?"

"Actually, yes", she replied coldly, "I am waiting for my friend". She put her bag on the seat. The boy tried to say something, looked around and walked away. The professor walked in and Vanitha had not showed up yet. Twenty minutes into the class, Zephyra gave up all hopes of seeing Vanitha all day. 'She is gonna be my victim, today', Zephyra thought darkly. Zephyra was not paying any attention to the lecture. "You there!", said the professor. Everybody in front of Zephyra turned towards her. Zephyra turned around, too and finding indifferent looks, turned back, pointed an index finger to herself and asked, "Me?". "Yes, you. Come up and solve this problem". Zephyra's heart skipped a beat. She turned pale for a moment. But only for a moment. Zephyra could solve math problems well. So she went up the dais. She looked at the expression on the board. She took the chalk in her hand. She read the expression again and she understood it well. But what was she supposed to do? She turned to the professor. "Umm. Ma'm?", the professor looked up, "What am I supposed to do?" The class burst into laughter.

"May be you could pay attention. For a start!"

Zephyra looked down at the class from the dais and felt a mixture of shame and contempt brewing in her throat.

"If you find the class so boring, you don't have to come. Its as if you are doing me a favour and I am not asking you to. Pack you bag and get out of the class", the professor chided.

"Yes, ma'm", Zephyra would not argue with her favourite professor. Besides, if Professor NN yelled at a student, no doubt, the student was doing something wrong.

Zephyra stood outside the class and listened to the lecture. She heard what the question was, she remembered the expression and solved it. She also took notes from what she heard of the lecture. When the class was over and the professor walked out of the room, Zephyra stood in her way, saying "Excuse me, Ma'm", and showed her notebook. The professor looked into the notebook, saw the solution to the problem and said, "Why didn't you do it on the board, then?". Zephyra kept staring at her and did not reply. "Ok. So you are intelligent and you don't think you need to pay attention in the class. Is that it?". Zephyra felt wounded and before she could open her mouth to explain, the professor walked away.

'Its all Vanitha's fault', yelled Zephyra to herself, 'Boy! Is she in trouble? Oh! Hell yea'. She stopped suddenly in her path and a dropping fell splat at her foot. She looked up and shouted "Hey watch it!" to the crow. The crow turned its head to the side so its eye could see the girl shouting at it. It cawed. 'Oh great! Now you want to argue with me, too? You would not want to pick a ...', Zephyra's thoughts came to a stand still and her heart began to pound against the rib cage in fear as she suddenly realised that about fifty crows were watching her from the branches and another ten at her feet, all watching intently, with their heads tilted. A cycle passed by and a bell rang. Zephyra went down on her knees and covered her head in her hands as the crows took to flight, some of them even slapping her with their wings. Zephyra ran as fast as she could, sweating and stumbling. For once, there were no explanations or reasons from her brain. The silence scared her even more. The run broke to a trot and then turned to quick steps. 'Its all Vanitha's fault', her head started over. It was ten in the morning and it was already very hot. The air near the arch pillars is shimmering. 'Mirage', she thought to herself. Then she remembered the crows. She shuddered.

"The crows scared you?"

Zephyra stopped and looked at the strange boy from whom the abrupt inquiry cheerfully ensued. He is tall and handsome and there is something else about him that she could not put her finger on. She rubbed her eyes hoping that the illusion would vanish if she cleared her eyes.

"Its not an illusion", the boy said, oozing out of the pillar and into it again. He held out his hand.

"Who are you? And... how are you... doing this.."

"Let's just say it's what I am. The philosophy being that there is no difference between different matter. Its all one and the same thing to me. I can manifest myself through any material. It's my power. I have my powers just like you have yours."

"Powers?"
"Yes. Powers. It has only been a little more than a day. You have not forgotten, have you?"
Zephyra's heart skipped a beat and just as hastily as that happened, she said, "How do you know?"
"Oh! It is not something that can be kept a secret, Zephyra. Mikhael knows everything. In fact he has been waiting."

"Mikhael?"
"Why don't we take a walk, eh?"

Zephyra looked at him suspiciously but followed him as he stepped out of the pillar and walked.

***
The Prologue

Mikhael sat on his throne, chin resting on the fist, reminiscing the prophecy:

"Mikhael"

"What is it now, Raffael?"

"The white lotus has bloomed"

Mikhael gave a grunt of acknowledgment.

"But Mikhael?"

Mikhael lifted his head and looked at the fair faced Raffael.

"Don't tire me with the trifle affairs, Raffael"

"Trifle? The creature with the white wings has awakened, Mikhael. We can now ..."

Mikhael went back to his muses, closed his eyes.

"I will go myself then", Raffael reported feebly.

Mikhael revoked his memories and the only thing he hear was the prophecy:

The creature with white wings will bring death to the mortal Raven.

***
Wings

"So I am the creature with white wings?"

"Yes"
"And where are my wings now?"

"Eagles shed their feathers and break their talons and beak and starve and hibernate waiting for new and better feathers and talons and beak to grow back"

"Right!"
"You don't believe me, do you?"

"And this Mikhael of yours wants me to be a part of his team"

"He wants you to serve him"

Zephyra looked up at him in defiance

"And he will, if he desired, crush any defiance, of course", continued Raffael.

"And those crows? Its the work of .."

"Raven. Yes. And that brings us to why I am here. Mikhael wants me to warn you to stay away from Raven. She is a fallen creature and she will not hesitate to do anything to stray you. And a word of advice from me: Don't try to fight her, if you encounter her. Use your wings. And if you choose to serve Mikhael, you will be guided to safety", Raffael said, beginning to shimmer

"Wait. I have more questions. I don't even know your name..", Zephyra wailed as he disappeared.

Zephyra did not know what to think about. She did not know if she should believe the tale the gel-boy was telling her, for all she knew, he could have even concocted it himself. But it is true nevertheless that he is a strange boy, a boy with powers. He also told her that what Zephyra thought was a dream was not a dream. He told her that she would grow wings. She made a mental note that she should look up the library on metamorphosis in Eagles. She started walking back towards hostel. The sun was beginning to set. It was a really long story the boy had told her. He could not have made it up on the spot or even remember the details he was talking about. Some feudal conflict between two creatures. Mikhael needs to bring Raven back to his world to restore order. But Raven would not go. Zephyra was half glad to have talked to some one that does not belong to this world. May be she did have super powers. May be she was indeed the cat-woman. She has to remember the dream she had. And then, perhaps, she would know the truth, for sure. Perhaps. But the memory won't come back no matter how hard she tried. She began to rehearse.

She was falling off a cliff. She must have imagined it to be real, for it was indeed so realistic. She must have fancied using superhuman powers. She had always imagined being some sort of a cat woman. She could have imagined having healing powers. But she was falling. She was frantically looking for something to stop her fall, but there was nothing within her reach and only the earth is going to stop her fall. She could no longer imagine the strength of feline limbs supporting a fall. Fear tore at her heart while the wind ripped through her throat, across her eyes bringing tears and across her ears howling and screaming like wolves and owls on a haunted night. She wanted to look at the green wild surrounding her for one last time, but her head was clutched in her emotions, fixing the vision to the approaching terrain, calculating the impulse of the impact, wondering if her fragile bones can withstand it. Fragile? What was she thinking? But she did not have time to think about anything then. She was only a moment away from crushing herself into the relentless ground beneath. She touched the ground. Stones and pebbles almost struck her face. But she felt no pain. She woke up and walked up to the dressing table to quench her dry throat.

In a small span of attention she realised she had walked to lake side road. This road is usually deserted and it is no different now. Not a soul in sight. Looking down on the road ahead, a strong urge filled her. She dropped her bag off her shoulder. It hit the ground with a dull thud. The wind blew. She ducked a little and turned a little. Desire welled up in her. Drenched with a will that is not entirely hers, she started sprinting. Memories trickled. Logic and intuition concurred with the same conclusion. Realisation dawned on her, a black blurry mass flew beside her in the dusk and as if in pursuit, she took off, unfurling her wings!

She remembered anxiety becoming awe as she stared at her reflection. The glass slipped, shattered and so did the many feathers from her back, the fallen fragments of feathers and ligaments crumbling to vanishing dust!

***
Fetters

There is no way anybody could climb up here. Zephyra stared at the darkening sky as she sat on the top of the stem of the tall crane near a construction site. The sky looked different now. Very different. A tiny tear drop floated across her cheek, like water on a lotus leaf. It lingered for a moment at the edge of her chin, shining orange in the setting sun and then it dropped down on to the paper in Zephyra's hand.

She was overcome by fear and awe as she flew through the sky. She did not trust her own strength. She did not know how the wings appeared. She did not know how she took off. And now, when the adrenalin levels came down, she realised she did not know how to land. She never took aerodynamics courses. 'Trust your instincts', came the voice with in her. She flew straight towards her dormitory. More questions crept up in her mind. 'What if anybody saw her? Will her wings fall off again? What if they did not? How will she cover them up? Will her bag remain where she dropped it? Oh, now is that so important a matter to think about?' She decided to confide in Vanitha. 'Vanitha would know what to do. How would Vanitha know? She would just know. I have no one else to go to now, anyway'. Zephyra managed to drop down on the roof of her dorm. She found a dirty black tarpaulin on the roof. She tried to see how bad her own back was and managed only to see the torn top and the flesh where the wing joined her shoulders. She willed her wings to droop down and covered herself with heavy tarpaulin. It smelled rotten. She climbed down the stairs carefully, crouching, trying to avoid being seen by anybody. She sprinted towards Vanitha's room and to her relief found it open. When she reached the room, she found it empty. The walls were still covered with the graffiti. The cupboard was left open and it was empty. The table was empty. There was blood on the floor beside the bed. There was blood on the bed, too.

"They just took the body out", some one said across her shoulder.

"What?", Zephyra turned, panting.

"You did not know?", said Jessica

"No. What happened?"

"Vanitha committed suicide, cut her wrist. Apparently she has been under medication for depression"

"What? No. Where is she now?"

Jessica shook her head,"Her parents had come. They took her body"

"No. NO. No.."

"Its all too sudden. I know. But ... you okay?"

Zephyra sat on her knees clutching the tarpaulin. She said nothing. Jessica walked away.

Zephyra did not know what to do. She tried to think. She tried hard.

Realisation trickled down. She would not see Vanitha anymore. She tried to remember the last night. She tried to remember how they talked and dined together and then went for a walk together. But she could not remember how Vanitha looked like. Even in Zephyra's memory, Vanitha had become a ghost. 'Zephyra won't be seeing Vanitha anymore', she said to herself. She wanted to cry. But she could not. No tears came up. There was no grief. Only frustration and fury. She desperately tried to remember Vanitha's face. She remembered she tried to sketch from one of Vanitha's photo. Quickly she rose and looked on the table and inside the cupboard. She could not find it. She looked at all the faces she drew on the wall, touching them with her long fingers, hoping one of them would look like Vanitha's. None of them did. Something hurts in her throat, but wont cause any tears. Then, in a bout of fury, she started hitting her head on the wall. Every blow harder than the previous. Her head ached, swelled and blood trickled down the side. Then she ran out of the room, and ran up the stair, dropping the tarpaulin. She kept running on the roof towards the edge and then in a swoop, she took off. She flew higher and farther away from the place where they lived together. The wretched place that spared no memories for her.

Far and high she flew until her body ached. Her head hurt. Her shoulders ached. Her throat hurt. She saw a tall crane somewhere far and flew towards it. The construction site was deserted and the lofty crane promised her uninterrupted solitude. She settled down on the stem that projected horizontally. She buried her head in her hands and tried to remember.

"Memory is so transient, is not it?", came a sweet voice.

Zephyra looked up to find a small boy sitting beside her. And beside him, perched a large black bird.

"Every action has a reaction. A consequence", said the boy, looking into the setting sun.

"Who are you?"

"Everytime you use your wings, you would lose some of you memory. Beginning with the most recent ones, of course", continued the boy indifferently.

Zephyra stared at the boy, trying hard to remember what to say next.

"I think, I know how hard it is to lose precious memories", the boy said again, "And so I am going to give you a gift. Whatever happened to you so far was fated. And that is why I believe, the most valuable gift I can give you is a Choice".

Zephyra looked at the boy feeling terrible and cold. The boy turned and looked at her and smiled.
"I will revive the memory of Vanitha's face which will stand two more flights. One of them of course will be for getting down from here", the boy looked down between his dangling legs, "You can choose to either keep the memory or use you wings. And if I were you, I would think using wings to serve some high headed fellow is downright worthless. But of course the choice is yours to make".
The boy rubbed his fingers, produced a paper folded in half, from thin air and held it out to her. As she touched the paper, she remembered Vanitha's face. Tears welled up in her eyes. She turned her head to thank the boy, but there was no boy. And there was no bird. She opened the paper to see the stick and ball drawing of a girl with flowing her holding hands of a girl with two plaits. Zephyra remembered Vanitha in all the details, the smile, the eyes. Vanitha was no ghost in her memories anymore.

Zephyra flew down to ground in one sweep, clutching the paper to her bosom. When she got down on the land, she took another glance at the drawing. 'I will never forget you', she whispered to herself as she resolved never to use the second flight she was allowed, even if it meant her death. 'I will never ever forget you', she whispered, as the feathers fell off and the ligaments in the wing dropped to ground turning into dust.

***
Epilogue

'Looks like she chose fetters over wings, Raven', said the boy, perched on the stem of the crane.

'Memories, Aeon', corrected Raven, a elven woman in a black gown with black wings drooping on her sides.

'Is it really so wonderful to have some one to remember?'

'It is, baby. I think, it is the most wonderful thing to have'

The boy looked down at the burning feathers trailing Zephyra.

'Why did you want me to give her two choices?'

'Because we did not give Vanitha any, did we?'

Jade & Raven.