A few words make up a life

Portrait of a Life.

“Jesse…Jesse…oh wake up Jesse”

The voice of the woman sounded subdued and calm maybe due to the freshness of the morning air. She had just taken a bath and was standing in front of a mirror drying the last remnants of water. A halo of heat hung around her body in the form of a barely discernible cloud. Her hair was beautiful, dark and long and she appeared very proud of this fact as she calmly gazed at her reflection. Her eyes were once pretty but now they appeared as if devoid of the ability to support beauty and appreciated more the effortless quality and consistency of not trying to be the opposite of ugly. Her fingers were long and thin but to say her hands were pretty would have been perhaps a poor judgement of the beauty of the human body. Her hands were more like tentacles and one could not help but feel that they were cold by the mere look of them. Her limbs were firm but were not relaxed as if enveloped with a rigid membrane that prevented easy movement. She was slim and perhaps a few years back one could refer to her body as beautiful. Now, there existed a sort of shagginess hanging over her and her drooping shoulders no longer portrayed the pride of believing in their own beauty.Suddenly her eyes had enough of her body and she moved away from the mirror towards the wardrobe.She still had grace in those steps albeit doted with a definite stiffness and severity.She was a no nonsense type of woman.As she reached the wardrobe,her towel fell and she stood in full nudity.She gasped and remain transfixed for a second.She then turned quickly to look at the form on the bed.Sleep still dwelt among the sheets and she uttered a deep sigh.For a moment she stood gazing at her breasts as if ensnared with thoughts of the a past that spelt beauty.A rougeur developed on her cheeks and she felt a bit ridicule of standing there in the room nude.There was once a day when she used to roam around the room naked under the smiling eyes of Jesse lying on the bed in the morning and she would love the feeling of being admired.Sometimes she felt so light that she danced around the room while putting on clothes and then Jesse would laugh and tell her she was a lousy dancer.Then she would pretend to be angry and Jesse would pull her in bed to console her.A grumbled snort from the bed started her out of her reverie and she quickly took out her clothes out of the wardrobe.Armed with underwear she felt more secure.Soon she was dressed and all thoughts of non conventionality vanished.It was as if the formal clothes gave her an unspoken power.Now she could proceed with the business of waking up Jesse.


If the woman portrayed conventionality,the manner of sleeping of the man denoted the opposite.He was lying diagonally on the bed with his ruffled hair standing on his head in a rebellious way.The woman used to find this amusing but now she felt only anger and disgust.A trace of a smile lingered on the lips of the sleeping man.Jesse had woken up soon enough to notice the incident of the towel but he had purposefully adopted a sleeping charade.He did not want to meet her eyes.He liked to always delay the meeting of his eyes with hers because he was overcome with despair when he gazed trough them as if all happiness was being wrenched out of him.There was a time when he used to live in those eyes and find an exquisite world enveloping him with numerous caresses.He felt the shake and moaned.

“Jesse wake up..it’s time”

He sprung from the bed and tried to avoid the eyes but try and his may the eyes hold a magnetic pull over him.The woman was looking at him in a desperate way as if he was a rebellious adolescent refusing to do the behave correctly. It was true Jesse had not yet lost his adolescent touch.Jesse looked at her and muttered good morning.He did not add love anymore. “Damn it woman,I am fuckin’ 38.Stop treating me as a child”One day I’ll say this aloud, Jesse thought.

“You are late Jesse,you know my father used to get up at four...”


The rest Jesse did not care to listen.He was more concerned with the scratch he was feeling on the cheek of his buttock.The quieter he remained,the quicker the woman would finish and he would be able to scratch himself.At last he could hear the voice no more and once she turned her back,he was out of the room hurrying towards the shower scratching with relief.


Jesse felt more relaxed as the hot water showered on his skin.A few minutes later he returned to his room.The woman was not there.He sighed and a sleepy look shadowed his face as he thought of work. Jesse taught English at a nearby high school and he did not even know or never cared to find out whether he liked his job or not.He was more concerned with the money that satisfies the ogre in his house.He was quite a lazy fellow but worked hard whenever there was no other alternative.He sat down on the bed and proceeded to dress for work.Suddenly his face fell gravely as he glanced at his reflection in the mirror.His belly was protruding a wee bit out but not enough to make him feel he was already old.But Jesse was one of them people who strive to find a funny side to every misfortune.A smile broke out on his face as he started fondling his excess of ventre.In no way you could call that a ‘gros ventre’ he thought.It was more of a touch of maturity or even virility.He inhaled deeply and held his breath.He puffed out his cheeks and moved about like a gorilla imitating the sound of the animal.

“What are you doing Jesse?”

The woman was standing with a disconcerting frown in the doorway.Jesse stood transfixed and then redeemed his composure.Maybe he could make the woman find the comedy of the situation.He turned to face her with a charming smile but when he met her eyes and her disapproving face,his smile was destroyed.Witch,he thought as he remained silent and proceeded to dress himself again.He heard a sigh which pierced his heart and sucked away all happiness.That woman was maybe kind of a dementor.Where are you my patronus?

The radio in the kitchen did little to break the melancholy of breakfast.The woman would talk when her mouth was empty which she had to do quickly so as to fill it again else she’ll be late for work.Thus, she delivered the important facets of her day and what part Jesse had to play in it.Jesse,still languid from sleep would grumbled his approval,without really listening.

“Jesse, don’t do that…”

His hand stopped midway as he raised his eyes now devoid of any sleep and faced the reprimanding face. He was on the verge of saying something and then decided otherwise. He resisted the impulse of obeying her and continued the action of plunging his bread into the cup of tea. “No use spoiling the whole week” he thought. The woman shook her head and Jesse waited for the sigh. But it never came. A few minutes of silence later, broken only by Jesse’s gulping of his hot tea endowed with bread crumbs and butter, they made their way towards their car. He wanted to have a car of his own but she insisted that one was more than enough. Jesse mechanically sat in the passenger’s seat as he disliked driving with her by his side. He remembered once he parked the car and took a bus home unable to bear his wife admonitions about his driving style. The smile playing on his lips was quickly subdued as he also recollected the week of coldness the woman displayed against him. After confirming whether Jesse had worn his seatbelt, the woman drove off and then had to stop after a few metres to allow a running Jesse to regain the house to get a forgotten artifact.

The school compound was still languid. It was the start of the week and lateness was a kind of culture. Sometimes, coming to school early was synonymous of nerdy behaviour and a latecomer were usually regarded with awe as one courageous enough to ignore the regulations.However, some students possessed a genuine predicament as they live quite far from the school. These students often have two choices; one is to come very early and the second is to be late. A vast majority prefers the second option since it is only the start of the week but a few ‘die hards’ could always be seen facing the cold morning in the class with a book on the table. Watching his wife driving off, he had a mixed feeling of freedom and also of that being lost. He sighed and made his way towards the staff room acknowledging on the way expectant faces looking at him for a sign of remembrance. He did not recognize many of the faces and preferred to free his memory for more viable things. However, some faces struck a chord and he gave a small nod. So as not to appear conceited or anything he nodded continuously to every student that came searching for his recollection. Due to this habit of his, the students used to call him “Oui-Oui” (after the noddy cartoon).Jesse was cognizant of this fact but he did not really care and just shrugged it away. As he climbed up the stairs, the old wood creaked under his feet. It was a very old wooden stair and Jesse liked the sound it made when he stepped on it. The creak gave him an assurance about the existence of the stairs and also brought about a feeling of the power in his legs. When he climbed, he tried to make a sort of melody by varying the occurrences of the creaks.

The staff room depressed him. Some old teachers there sat in an atmosphere of austerity and had sort of puritan airs. They looked at you as if you belong to some scum generation and always seemed to point out that it was not like this when they were young where respect and discipline reigned. Jesse did not talk to them very much. He agreed respect and discipline had become scarce but not all belonged to this generalization of the current generation of teachers or students. Times change and are bound to. The old times cannot come back, why adapt your experience to the changing facets, trying to bring about a bit of classicism to the modernistic approach rather than forfeiting it all. It always surprised or angered Jesse that some people devoid of any real knowledge and intelligence nurtured an unparalleled arrogance which originated from their own belief of their importance which was bestowed by some other people endowed with a wee bit of power. Jesse had read somewhere that sincere arrogance was a virtue to be admired. He did not encounter many people bestowed with this quality. He felt the disproving looks of an arrogant old hag bearing down on him as he sat down opening his bag. He no longer felt the need to greet such people. It was a blatant hypocrisy to wish someone ‘Good morning’ when simultaneously you are visualizing her in a coffin. Some of his colleagues revered such teachers, their sole preoccupation being to be in a favourable position if any opportunity crops up. They like to stay in their good books and sometimes take insult with a beatific smile.They are what we refer to as the “leche botte” of the system or in the more crude local term a “Macro”.They are the darlings of the system and acquired job through “contacts”. Jesse called them the “untouchables” because they think they cannot be harmed in any way.The term untouchable also signified another idea and Jesse thought they were more of the secondary meaning.

Jesse shook hands with some colleagues and laughed carelessly at the jokes of some. A shadow suddenly covered his page and Jesse’s eyes glittered as he rose to meet those of Gunsh, physics teacher in his mid-fifties. He crumpled Jesse’s hands and threw himself on an adjacent chair. Gunsh waved boringly to his other colleagues and glared at Jesse.

“So, Jesse how you doing? Been getting some ass this weekend?”

“You bet Sir, I was so worn out, I could not even walk.”

“Ah…your asshole was that fucked up?”

The staffroom was suddenly full of teachers opening drawers and retrieving stuff. As he was joined by other colleagues, the laughter was made radiant by the rays of the sun as Gunsh made fun of the other teachers. The sound of the ring decided the staff to make their way towards their respective classrooms to deliver to the emerging generation what they thought was worth knowing.


The woman sat in her office and checked her e-mails while sipping coffee. It was rather a small office but orderly and everything fitted perfectly in its place. The furniture seemed to have been made with the woman’s nature. An air of strictness hung around however tinged with an infinitesimal gaiety. The walls witnessed a smile from time to time and their whiteness reflected some of it back which helped the woman in maintaining an atmosphere of staggering and unnerving trust as well as portraying a seriousness of purpose. The little office surely contributed to the work of the woman which consisted of basically selling paper. As she surfed through her emails she arranged them mentally in order of importance, discarding nonchalantly all trivialities and previously stored items in her mental stack. She shuffled some papers on her desk but found she couldn’t really concentrate. The little incident in the morning still lingered around like a soft mist and she unconsciously was admitting it did not repulse her through the birth of a little smile on her lips. It brought back memories which appeared like a delightful dream born out of another earth. But are dreams of this earth, she thought. A dream is a dream irrespective of its origin.

“I am studying literature in English and I am an artist”

His lips moved slowly forming the syllables in the words almost perfectly creating an exquisite melancholic effect. He looked at her and added to the sadness by smiling in the dying sunshine. His hair was ruffled, perhaps by the wind, but they appeared to be in a natural state of disorder; wind or no wind. He was going to sit a few benches away when he saw her and hesitated before directing his steps towards the occupied bench. A shadow felt on the book the girl held and she turned. Her eyes displayed no surprise as if she was waiting for him to come. Graciously, he asked permission to sit and the girl simply nodded her assent. As he talked, she observed his clothes depicted a disregard for order or fashion. It was as if he felt a burden to put them on. A thought of him naked flashed through her mind but she killed it quickly before it matured and eventually displayed itself on her face. She was sure that his deep prying eyes would have observed it. She asked his name and her voice was barely discernible. She was cold and at the same time awed at him being so lightly dressed.

‘Jesse…you can call me Jesse…my name is a bit old and too complicated and I believe it is our nickname in fact which defines us more as it is given to us in a later stage of life where our attributes are more defined. The birth name is more like of identification code for the civilized society and contains more of what the parents want you to be or in my case what the priest deemed the stars predicted for me.’

‘Or some put a name just because it sounds beautiful’

He looked at her with an appreciative questioning look as he sought in her eyes the being she was hiding. He wondered at her hair,dyed in places,but not too much to lose any of the original darkness with which they were bestowed.In the rays of the dying sun,they appeared embroidered with specks of gold.Her hands were slim and appeared almost fragile.An unnerving desire was born in Jesse’s bossom at the sight of her hands.He had glanced at them furtively but it was enough to make him want to hold them in his. When she talked,her fingers moved as if to the tune of a song. Jesse became aware of her beauty and he was strangely troubled. He suddenly felt she noticed where his thoughts were directed to and he quickly glanced away to look at the brown leaves on the grass. She asked if he came to this part of the university often. He replied he had developed a habit to be here on Friday evening to enjoy some of the solitude. She smiled and replied that she was perhaps intruding. He joked about her spoiling everything and that he had more right to be here since he came here when she was still not enrolled at the university.

‘…and you being a girl and all that, you should not be here alone anyways. You can’t always trust people including me. How are you sure I am not a psycho… ’

She observed the bounciness in his eyes and marveled at his words which enveloped her with a feeling of trust and merriness. She found herself smiling and laughing readily to what he said. After some time, when the chill became quite unbearable, they rose to go away. As they trod on the leaves, back to the world, in the dying light, a feeling unknown to them at that time had already developed a strong bond.


Jesse fumbled with his pen. It was a habit he had when he was consternated. He would feel the cold metal barrel and the touch would appease him.He found himself longing for the past today.He rarely let aspects of his current life be more than a spark in his mind.But, today they burned like a fire in his soul.He found himself regretting the life he had now.As he watched his friends,Raj and his wife,Sweta from the window of the staff room,he was swept with a feeling of sadness.He observed the natural mutuality that flowed between the two below.What is wrong with me,he thought.Am I downtrodden with envy?As he looked at them from the old window he could not help but feel nostalgic.Suddenly Raj turned around and gazed up.Jesse moved away from the window abruptly disturbing the table under the angry look of a fat teacher who was peeling a banana.Jesse sat down near the window and contemplated a ray of sunshine on his hand.It was warm and soothing to the skin.Summer was near and in this country it was never far.However,the feeling of the sun in winter is different.Jesse preferred a small warming sunshine than face its full blaze.To have the solace of being a little warm in a cold rendered you more appreciative of the power of the sun.For one,the temperature was more bearable and you can sleep well.Jesse smiled about the idea of sleep.But it was a sad smile.

“You always have that sleepy look on your face as if everything disinterests you,including me.”

Jesse smiled and looked at her sleepily. ‘This is how I am.My mother used to love that particular look of mine”

‘Well, I am not your mother…Look you need to be dynamic if you want to achieve something in life. You need to move. You cannot bask yourself in the sunshine and hope for it to shine forever’

Jesse looked up from the book he was reading and gazed questioningly at the back of the woman. These kinds of talks were becoming more and more frequent. He refrained from saying that she used to like that expression of his face too.He preferred to stay silent and let her talk.It was no use replying.He knew what was wrong but he was doing what he could.He did not believe in achieving something just because society dictates so.He did not need the people to be a measure of his ‘success’.Why should his life be compared to others?They were perfectly happy before.What had happened to her?From where did spring so much desires of desires to be like other people.She was not like this.’Are you even listening to me?’

She had turned round and was facing Jesse.He looked at her but did not recognize the person glaring at him.He could see strains of anger on her face which made her look old.

‘Why do you want the life of the fools out there?Do you think what they display to the world is indicative of the happiness they possess.Do we really need all the stupid stereotypical life deprived of its very essence,shaped by a framework of fools who gauges people by the amount of shrewdness and materialistic displays?’

‘ All your philosophical talks are very beautiful but do you think they are applicable to life.I am only promoting rationality and stability in order to achieve a life where we can both be happy and one day look back and do not regret about not achieving anything’

Jesse rose from the sofa and put on his shoes.He put his hands in his pocket and felt his pen.As he turned the door knob,he turned round and said :

‘Everything’s not about achievement’

He slammed the door as the resultant draft made the tear of the woman fall at a slight angle to the vertical.

The woman sighed and held her hand in both hands.Her day of toil at the office was nearing the end. She closed her eyes and no longer tried to fight the thought of him. It was no use of her pretending to work. She could not explain the uneven sadness that made her uncomfortable tied like a knot in her stomach. What was wrong with her? A strange urge suddenly was born in her skin, an urge to which she could not have resisted and she forgot her usual deliberation. She suddenly stormed out of her office and walked quickly to her car. If someone had look closely, a little smile played on her lips adding to the rosy impression that had originated on her cheeks.

‘Hey,Jesse...Jesse!!! Wait…….’Gunsh was panting. ‘…Raj…Beer’


As Jesse sat beside Gunsh he sighed at the feeble sun outside.It was going to be dark soon and also colder.He did not mind the cold though.He never did.


The woman, after freshening up, had rushed to a part of a drawer she had not opened in a long time. She was quite tired after the elaborate cooking she had done but happiness flowed into her veins and she did a little pirouette clutching Jesse’s old framed portrait of her in her hands landing gracefully on the sofa.She looked at the clock and decided to call Jesse.It was near seven.

Suddenly she heard a car in front of her porch and she rushed to the window.In the dim porchlight,she could discern it was Jesse hopping off the car and confirmed when she heard his loud voice.The figure moved towards the house but something was wrong.Jesse was not walking with his usual springy steps.She was puzzled but shrugged it away as she glided towards the front door.She opened it and found Jesse standing clumsily wearing a foolish smile on his face.

‘Anita,girl…I love you so much’

He proceeded forwards,tumbled and search for support on her shoulders.The smell of alcohol was heavy on him.The face of the woman had undergone a wonderful transformation as if a bud in an instant had grown old and its petals were decrepitated falling to the earth immediately turning to dust.She ignored his incessant mumbling and loud laughing and directed him to the sofa. In so doing, the framed portrait precariously positioned, fell down and suffered a crack.She took off his shoes and went to get some water from the table.When she came back,he was already sleeping and she decided not to wake him up.Anita then mechanically began to clear the table.She had no appetite.


“Jesse…Jesse..wake up”

Anita rocked him until he groaned and slowly opened his eyes. He winced as he became conscious of the headache. Anita left him to continue with her morning routine. Jesse sat on the sofa and dimly remembered how he came to be here last night. He groaned again and lifted himself up.As he walked past the dining table, he noticed his framed picture lying there.He yawned and then a puzzled look grew on his face when he saw a crack on it.He was still musing upon the matter when the woman appeared in the doorway.

‘Why are you standing there like a fool??Go shower and get dressed if you don’t want to be late”

He felt the venom in the voice and replaced the portrait in its old place in the drawer. As he walked towards the shower, he wondered how the frame got cracked.

~ The End~