Itvara

It was one of those Autumn days in Berlin before the harsh winters arrived, when it was not too cold and the sun was giving us all a long and warm embrace. I was walking alone in this city as much as possible because I knew the days of quiet long walks was slowly ending.

I thought of exploring a gallery that fine day but as I walked on the street towards the  metro station, I simply felt that it is one of those days I would prefer drinking coffee and sit somewhere not thinking much. So, I googled and found that there is a charming coffee and bagel cafe called Shakespeare and Sons in Warschauer straße. The thing about big and old cities is that you really don’t understand where the city takes you. Even someone as new as me finds the city familiar when you still do not have a clue of what is happening around you.

I sat on one of the comfortable seats inside the café and picked up two books. As I sipped my coffee, I started reading the book – Strangers to ourselves. A book which delicately describes the mental illness and our mind which we try forever so hard to control. Strangely enough I see a young girl getting coffee for which I believed to be her grandmother. Her grandmother looked at the coffee confused. She smiled at her and asked her to drink the coffee. The old lady with her frail hands picked it up and drank slowly with solemn yet blank face. The girl smiled at me and said, “she will lose her memory soon”. I looked at her, gave her a smile and a brief nod acknowledging her pain and continued reading my book,

But I could not read, my mind reeled back twenty-five years ago, a time when my grandmother was alive. A time when mental illness was a gigantic puzzle. A time when back home, we were trying to understand how to be human to someone who is already so confused between reality and imagination. A time when we tried saying nothing.

My grandmother was suffering and sometimes completely lost about who she was and the only way back to her was to either shout or scold her. I till date do not know what I was dealing with. I was only ten years old! One day my father took all of us to Juhu beach early in the morning to see the sunrise. As we sat on the beach, we saw the sun slowly rising without any haste or hurry. I could see my grandmother smiling, and I could see that she was in this reality. As the sun fully rose, my father bought coconut water for all of us. As we were about to drink, my grandmother exclaimed, “What is this? This is not a real coconut!” We all looked at each other and we knew she was no longer in our world. My father sighed and took the coconut from her hands. He went for a walk. My mother and my brother also went a little far away from us and were talking about something to do with my brother’s studies. I was with my grandmother alone sitting on the beach with endless sea ahead of us.

I did not know what I could say to her. I asked, “why is the coconut not real?

“Because it is a poison. They are trying to kill me you see.”

By this time, I knew if my parents heard this they would have rebuked her to bring her back. Hence I asked, “who is trying to kill you.”

“They. All of them, don’t you see them?” I could see her panicking. Her eyes looked strangely frightened. I looked at my mother and I could see her listening intently to my brother. I looked around me and I took a deep breath.

“I see them.”

“You see them, Don’t you? The same ones. All of them are coming. We should run.”

“But I am here! We have a sword; they cannot harm us. I have this big sword which is very sharp.”

She looked at me for a long time and then suddenly I see a warm glow coming in her face.

“My dear granddaughter, the loveliest one. What a wonderful sea!”

She was back. But I was not.

As we went back home, my mother, brother and grandmother slept in the car. I leaned from the backseat and asked my father, “Did something ever happen to grandmother?”

I was ten. My father just looked at me and grunted and I retracted in my seat.

As years went by, she completely lost herself. I remember the day for that was the only day, I truly protected someone.

There was a sudden noise and I turned to see the old lady dropped her cup and the young girl was apologizing profusely. I looked at the book again sitting lifelessly. I thought what happens to us that we become so unknown, an outsider to who we are.

I walked outside the café and sat in a park nearby and watched the sun set. I saw my grandmother sitting beside me and I smiled.  I told her,” You are not real. I am glad that you are not, but you are here.”