POEMS OF LOST LOVE
STORIES
For other countries, please visit the respective Amazon sites.
This is about a happening in Central London that has been narrated by the protagonist in the first person.
It was a quarter to nine in the morning when my friend Ravi and I came down to the lobby of our apartment building in Luton. Luton is a town and borough in Bedfordshire, England and I was here on deputation for an onsite assignment from India. This was my first deputation to England and I had come here just a few months back. The incessant downpour of rain drained almost the steam of enthusiasm out of us, as we could not imagine roaming around in London in that kind of weather. But still we decided to move forward. I went for the button of a console kept at the apartment reception lobby. “What’s that?”, asked Ravi, who had come from Bangalore to visit me. “That’s for a taxi. You just need to press a button”, I said. In five minutes, we were in the taxi, having managed to get in with very minimal romance with the pouring rain, covering ourselves with rain-protective jackets with hoods. The same protection helped us again when we got out of the taxi as it was still raining. We had a short walk to the Luton train station. The Thameslink train was bang on time and once inside, we were nestled for a warm journey of about forty minutes. The train was crowded as it was peak time. Soon, Black Frairs station received us with a beautiful view of the Thames River. There was no rain here although we could see busy dark clouds decorating the sky as though they were getting prepared for the next big ordeal. We spent some time savouring the beauty of the scene. I had been to London just three times before this and each visit had been a uniquely beautiful and different experience.
We had booked the 11 am guided tour of Westminster Abbey and we still had some time to hang around. We moved to the underground tube station. After a quick ride through a few stops on the District Line, we were at Westminster Pier station. The Westminster Pier, being such a vantage point offering a very close view of Big Ben, a distant view of the London Eye across the Thames River bustling with boats and tourists and the Westminster bridge close by, held us for a while as we enjoyed the beauty of the incredible views. We saw the beautiful red-coloured transport buses and the Hop On Hop Off and Toot Buses that were taking the visitors around. There is a special seductive beauty that London exudes which cannot be put into words. Everything we see seems to have been planned to fit into one big, beautiful canvas. Even the buses, the taxis, the buildings, their design and colour, all seem to blend into one beautiful painting.
'Truly awesome and towering,' said Ravi after clicking a few photographs of Big Ben. 'Do you know that Big Ben is actually the nickname for the Great Bell of the clock at the north end of the Palace of Westminster? The Palace of Westminster is also referred to as the Houses of Parliament. The clock tower itself is commonly referred to as Big Ben, ' added Ravi. I was not surprised about his knowledge, as he was someone who did a lot of reading and research about a place before visiting it.
We had about forty-five minutes to 11 am and we decided to hang around Westminster bridge and take a few photographs with Big Ben in the background. The human mind always yearns for a photograph where we are seen alone with a prominent entity like Big Ben in the backdrop. And so, we too really wanted to have one for ourselves. But with the ever-thronging crowd that was there near Westminster pier, we always had either a vehicle or a bunch of people coming into our photograph window. We then found a spot close to the wall abutting the steps that ran down to the pier, where the movement of people and vehicles was relatively less and where we could take photographs with the London Eye in the background.
When we moved a little down Victorian Embankment, just a little past the bronze sculpture of Boadicea and Her Daughters, we found a spot where very few vehicles or people moved by. And from this spot, we took a bunch of pictures with just us and Big Ben in them. While I was about to focus on taking my next shot of Ravi, I saw two young boys of possibly European origin, doing something behind him that caught my attention. I suddenly realized that I had been getting into an awkward looking position and posture while taking photographs and they were parodying and making a comical display of the same. Though I felt like laughing, I decided not to give them any clue about it on the outside, as I thought that it would only encourage them to do more. I decided not to connect with their eyes but watched them when they were looking somewhere else. I shared this happening with Ravi, and he had a good laugh about it. He wanted to go and meet them, but I stopped him.
The thought of the tour of the Abbey pushed us to move forward and we were on our way taking the road adjacent to Big Ben and then heading left. We planned to come back after the tour, to hang around and take some more photographs close to Big Ben. When we found ourselves amidst many important governmental and historical buildings, we knew that this should be the central area of London. And in the heart of this central area, we found Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament close to Big Ben with all located close to each other. “Can you see that Big Ben stands tall at the northeastern corner of the Palace of Westminster. So, Big Ben is basically part of the Houses of Parliament complex”, explained Ravi. “How super is that these three landmarks are in very close proximity to each other. It makes it easy for visitors like us to explore all three in a single trip”, I added.
I turned back quickly just to check if the two boys were around. They were still there about 50 metres behind, and I saw them wave to me and make another comical display of their faces together. I quickly turned back pretending as though I had not seen them. It was funny to see the comical things they made, and I was laughing in a subdued manner. Ravi laughed along and asked “Is it the boys again? Where are they?”. “They are right behind us”, I said. We never realized that we had covered almost 300-400 metres between Big Ben and Westminster Abbey, while looking over our shoulders occasionally to see whether they were following us. And in fact, we had gone past the Houses of Parliament situated between these two iconic landmarks while covering that distance. We saw the red transport buses and black taxis go by and it was beautiful to watch them against the greyish yellow backdrop of the Parliament buildings.
They were still there near the Parliament buildings as we approached the main entrance of the Abbey with a left turn. We now could not see them as the road along the Houses of Parliament was not visible. The Abbey is only a short walk away, approximately a few hundred meters to the west of the Parliament buildings and we knew they would be here anytime as they had already covered some part of it from what we saw earlier.
Once inside Westminster Abbey, we got lost in a world of royal grandeur and architecture. Our guide John was a very enterprising and knowledgeable individual. We saw places inside, where coronations and other ceremonies of national significance took place. London is a city of resilience, and the Abbey was heavily damaged in the bombings of World War II, and it was restored after the war. We saw the tombs and memorials of many kings and queens and famous British subjects such as Isaac Newton, Ernest Rutherford, David Livingstone, Michael Faraday. Westminster Abbey is directly under the jurisdiction of the British Monarch.
We walked through the Abbey’s Choristers’ Stage and recalled seeing the same on television. When we moved to the Poets Corner, I spotted the two boys a little distance away from us.
They were occupied with the ornate architecture all around them. The tombs of poets Geoffrey Chaucer, John Dryden, Edmund Spenser, Alfred Lord Tennyson, Rudyard Kipling, Thomas Hardy, Robert Browning, Edward Lears, Charles Dickens and many more who had left an impact on English literature were there for us to draw inspiration from.
We spent some moments of silence thinking about the body of work accomplished by these great individuals. When I was close to the statue of William Shakespeare, I spotted the boys waving at us. I gave a subdued smile and continued with my reading the details etched on the different tombs and statues.
I felt a little uncomfortable when individuals of whom I knew nothing were constantly trying to make eye contact and draw my attention. But Ravi had no such problems. I once saw him smile and wave back.
We also saw the statues of modern martyrs from around the world including the American Civil Rights Leader Martin Luther King Jr. and Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German theologian who was executed for being a part of the plot to kill Adolf Hitler. The whole architecture was highly ornate and breathtaking, with a certain royal grandeur that was spellbinding.
Ravi, who was very passionate about music, was on a high when he spotted the tomb of George Frederic Handel.
With loads of inspiration and satisfaction that filled us, we thanked our guide and stepped out of the Abbey. Lost in thought about the greatness of these individuals, we walked on the road adjacent to the Houses of Parliament. We then decided to spend some time in Parliament Square before calling it a day. We stepped into the beautiful space of the square. There were twelve statues of British, Commonwealth and Anglo-American figures. Packs of tourists and visitors along with their guides who were belting out historic details could be seen in front of the different statues. The trees and the beautiful patch of grass provided the green balance for the square.
Ravi spotted the statues of Gandhi and Churchill and wanted to pose for photographs besides these. ‘Hold on. Let me find a good spot,’ he said as he picked a spot beside Churchill’s statue where there were less people. I was getting prepared to focus and take the shot with my iPhone, when someone violently grabbed the phone. I saw a masked person on a bike with the phone and he was speeding away. Ravi ran after the bike with all the strength he could muster and, in the process, dropped his phone. I was running behind him but stopped seeing his phone go down and then picked it up. We kept running after them, but we were no match for the speeding bike. We yelled and shouted, to draw the attention of people, but the bike went past the boundary of the square and was speeding down the pedestrian path adjacent to the main road. The person on the bike crossed a road that was at a junction and again got on to the pedestrian path and before we could cross the road, the red signal was up and a Toon Tour bus and a Hop On Hop Off bus went through that road and hid the visibility for a while. Once clear, we again spotted the bike speeding away.
It was when the bike was about a hundred metres away that I saw two individuals chasing the bike. After some running, they grabbed the masked person and floored him. The masked person went crashing and the phone went out of his hand. But he quickly got up and sped away on the bike leaving the phone behind. Many pedestrians stopped to look at the encounter. The two individuals picked up the phone and were making their way towards me and Ravi, while we were still shouting and waving our hands. It was only when they closed in that both Ravi and I realized that they were the same two boys who were following us and trying to get our attention for the last so many hours. Even the boys realized that only when they closed in. ‘Happy that we could help you both,’ said one of them handing over the phone to me and stretching out his hand. I am Tim and this is my friend Tom. “We were on the opposite pedestrian path and once we saw him, we too had to chase him for a distance”, said Tom. “I am really grateful for this Tim and Tom”, I said as we shook hands and introduced ourselves. We spent some time with them and requested them to join us for a coffee at the Pret a Manger coffee shop that was nearby. We talked and laughed about the encounters with them since morning, when they had kept following and waving at us.
Dusk was slowly settling in as we saw the lights come up on the London roads. The beauty of London is something that cannot be described in a set of words. Every moment offers a different experience of beauty.
Two strangers who would have remained as just two strangers with a strange touch, are today in touch with us through a strange happening that brought us together with these strangers.
POEMS OF LOST LOVE
STORIES
For other countries, please visit the respective Amazon sites.
We have short trysts with some people by sheer chance in some unique situations where there is a mix of tension, happiness and embarrassment that come in. The ending is still but sweet.
It was about 4 pm when I peeped out of the window of my flat to see if there was any rain at all as per the weather forecast. I wanted to step out for my weekend grocery shopping at Hounslow. The windows were soundproof, and I wouldn’t know unless I saw what was happening outside. I was only expecting a nice romantic powdery rain but was surprised to see that it was pouring. This was the type of rain I normally would witness in Chennai between October and December every year. Having experienced severe floods there, I felt a bolt of fear run through me, seeing this intensity of the rain.
Stanwell, the place where my flat is located, is a very beautiful village in the Spelthorne district in Surrey, England. My address has this catchy line ‘Staines-Upon-Thames’ which is a market town in Northwest Surrey which is around 17 miles west of Central London and is at the confluence of the River Thames and Colne. Having been through severe floods while at Chennai and this proximity to these rivers while at Stanwell, always drives me to keep checking for flood warnings during the rainy seasons.
I peeped through the window again and to my relief, the rain had stopped completely. It was beginning to get dark outside. I quickly made my way to the bus stop after a seven minutes’ walk. The bus ‘203’ to West Hounslow was due in a few minutes. There were a few others waiting for buses at the bus stop. From a distance, anybody who saw us, would think that all of us were smokers, as each of us were letting out smoke. It was only when they got closer, they would understand that not all were actual smokers.
Two huge patches of water stood adjacent to the bus stop. It could be that this water will disappear in about half hour through the drain system, but at that moment I felt I was experiencing a road in Chennai in India, where the water would take a long time to drain away. The vehicles that went by at good speed were splashing the water into the area inside the pavement. So, we all had to step aside and stand a little away to avoid getting wet. It was impractical to expect them to slow down as they approached this stretch of water.
The barren trees and the dark clouds above gave a gloomy setting. This bus stop was on the high street and for all the loneliness that one would experience in Stanwell, the high street was but one big relief as one could see some human movement due to the few shops that were here. And there was the John Gibson pub opposite, that always had people hanging out.
The double decker bus ‘203’ arrived splashing up a substantial amount of water into the pavement. I seriously expected the driver to have slowed down as he was anyways going to stop the vehicle. A few of us boarded the bus and I took the steps and made it to the upper deck. I found a seat almost in the middle. The bus was a little crowded although not full yet. I had been taking this bus on weekends over the last few months to go to West Hounslow. One could always feel a small sway of the bus sideways while on the upper deck, but today that swaying was much more pronounced. And also, the way the bus stopped and took off at each bus stop was abrupt and hardly smooth. Every time it closed in at a bus stop where there was a stretch of rainwater, it splashed the rainwater such that it took the people waiting there by surprise and got them wet. At one point I was laughing at what was happening as it reminded me again of the pictures of the rainy seasons in Chennai. My focus was constant on what was happening outside, through the side windows.
It was when I looked straight, that I noticed a man with a rounded skullcap, frequently put up both his hands, look upwards and shake his head sideways. I thought he was a Muslim into some deep prayer, but his actions seemed to coincide with the jerks and sways of the bus. Since the stop where I was supposed to get off from the bus was approaching, I moved closer to the steps and took the seat behind the man. And again, his hands went up and his head shook sideways. This time he turned and making eye contact, told me in a tense mood “Whaaataa waayy thooo rideaaa busss”, and again put up his hands and shook his head sideways. It was no prayer but an act of despair. The bus jerked and came to a stop at another bus stop and took off again suddenly and swayed heavily from one side to the other. “Goodnesss… Issss thiss sommmme kindaaaa circccuuus?”, he asked again looking at me. I was laughing inside but I did not show it on the outside as every time he made eye contact with me, I nodded so as to empathize with him.
I got up as the bus stop where I had to get off was approaching. I saw the man also get up. We both took the steps and went down. The bus was still moving as he went to the spot beside the driver and expressed his disappointment. “Why theee busssss shakkking thiiiisss much”, he asked with an intense expression of both his hands. It was at that moment that the bus was taking a left turn and since his hands were free and had not held on anywhere for support, he almost lost his balance and fell backwards but I supported him from behind. “Thaank yooouu”, he said and again went beside the driver. The driver was a cool person, and he seemed to be hardly bothered about how the journey was for the people inside. He looked like an Indian. The driver kept looking at the man’s body language and kept asking him what he wanted, probably because it was difficult to hear through the glass partition that separated the driver’s cabin from where we the passengers were.
We both got off at the Great West Road bus stop. The bus took off, again splashing some water that was lying as a huge path beside the bus stop pavement. This agitated the man again. “Youuuu daaant feel youuu in sommme circussss maaaan? You soo quieeet?”, he asked looking at me. I smiled and patted his shoulder as though to convey that I also shared the same feeling. “I thinkkkk the drivvveerr from India….he ddrrrive like bulluccck caaarth”, he said with both his hands moving in full expression. “I can understand you. I also felt the same thing”, I replied, so as to calm him down. “I am Anbassa frommmmm Ethiopia. Nice thoo meett youuu.. You knaawww Ethiopia?”, he said. “Yes, I know Ethiopia. It is the place where coffee beans came from”, I replied. He was extremely happy to hear that, and he smiled. He was more relaxed now and I felt good about it too. “I am Roy from India. It was nice to meet you”, I said shaking his hand. The moment I mentioned India, a cloud of embarrassment dressed his face, and he was making an effort to smile through that awkwardness. His smile was beautiful although it exposed his yellow pyorrhea-stained teeth. We waved goodbye and parted. After walking a little ahead, I turned to see if he was still in sight. Anbassa was walking slowly, often checking if there was any vehicle that was closing in on the pavement, so that he could avoid any more water splashes. I felt that he had got into a psychological freeze, which made him keep looking around for vehicles, even if there was hardly any water around. He was also possibly still going through that mild undulating shock of having met two Indians in quick succession :).
These days, whenever I sit back and think about Anbassa, I end up with a smile.POEMS OF LOST LOVE
Poetry book 'INDELIBLE ETERNAL ETCHINGS':
https://www.amazon.in/INDELIBLE-ETERNAL-ETCHINGS-emotions-unbridled-ebook/dp/B072J4L656/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=indelible+eternal+etchings&qid=1583428166&sr=8-1
https://www.amazon.com/INDELIBLE-ETERNAL-ETCHINGS-emotions-unbridled-ebook/dp/B072J4L656/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=indelible+eternal+etchings&qid=1583428402&sr=8-1
STORIES
Short Story book 'A PEARL FROM EVERY OYSTER':
https://notionpress.com/read/a-pearl-from-every-oyster
https://www.amazon.in/Pearl-Every-Oyster-Stories-Shorter/dp/1948473151/ref=sr_1_1?crid=3GI23X9JIKQGK&keywords=a+pearl+from+every+oyster&qid=1583428674&sprefix=A+Pearl+from%2Caps%2C302&sr=8-1
https://www.amazon.com/Pearl-Every-Oyster-Stories-Shorter-ebook/dp/B07948GRVC/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1H9GU3Q8JNH29&keywords=a+pearl+from+every+oyster&qid=1583428722&sprefix=a+pearl+from+ev%2Caps%2C363&sr=8-1
For other countries, please visit the respective Amazon sites.
