Just let go

Swami Gulagulaananda preached

"When in trouble, son, and you can't do much, just let go"

You can now read the story from the book - Swami G's Short Stories

He was uneasy in his seat. The movie was a fast paced one, but he had other things in mind. He had seen a scene on the screen and this was followed by thoughts. He pulled out his phone from his pocket to check if he had gotten any calls. None. He replaced it. He had stopped watching the movie now. His fingers were trembling in his box of pop-corn while the hero was loading his gun with bullets on the big screen. He had a terribly queasy look on his face. He was beginning to feel sick. Why wasn't it ringing. He turned to his left to see the rather annoyed looks being darted at him by his wife. "If only looks could kill", he reckoned. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she muttered through her gritted teeth. He could almost see the flames of the explosion of the screen in her eyes and teeth. "Umm nothing" he managed to mumble sheepishly as he tried to loosen the grip of his wife. "How could such a small woman have such strength? When it comes to moving the sofa I wonder where her strength goes", he thought.

There was that feeling again. "Let me go woman", he wanted to blurt out. He was beginning to move uncomfortably with a weird rolling movement in his seat. His neighbours both on his right and back were beginning to stare at him like he was performing a magic trick. "Magic is all that can save me." Why wasn't his phone ringing?, he was praying by now, praying for the second intermission, hoping against all hopes that the theatre management would miraculously introduce a new policy. He took his phone out again. By now his wife's looks had gotten dirtier than ever before. What had he seen in her when he got married was his immediate thought. He noticed her overly sparkling diamond in her finger ring. He wondered where they found such large stones, at the same time getting the answer for his previous question. Rich bi**h he swore under bated breath.

"Listen darling, I'll be right back", he whispered as he took his phone out for the third time.

"You are going nowhere, last time you decided not to show up after you had gone out", his wife replied in a threateningly quiet tone.

"Last time was different. This is an emergency." Beads of sweat were beginning to form on his forehead. His wife decided to ignore that. She had asked him to cancel all appointments and meetings. She was not to be disturbed this time, owing to her unpleasant memories of being dumped halfway through the last two movies because of the self-claimed urgent calls her husband had got from the hospital. What kind of hospital cannot operate without one doctor was her question. What special skill did her husband have that he was being called so often. She would have normally felt elated that her husband was special, but she suspected something else - that her husband was hiding something and under no circumstance would she allow him to go this time. Any other time she would have followed him, but not this time. This movie was special.

His phone was shimmering and glowing alternately now. That's it he thought. His wife noticed that from the corner of her eye. She suspected he was having an affair and this must be the other woman's call. "Cut the call", she uttered rapidly which was followed by angry looks and hushing sounds by her neighbours. He did as ordered, although it was completely against his wishes. He had been waiting so long for his phone to ring. The call was not important to him anymore. He knew there was not much time left now. He had to act soon. Cutting the call was the last nail in the coffin. He hoped the caller would call back. He wanted to answer it so desperately - cutting calls was completely against his principle. Doctors must be able to react in times of emergencies.

He could see how far he had to go before he reached the exit, counting and imagining where he would place his steps. The phone was beginning to shimmer and glow again. If he made a dash for it now, he could perhaps reach just in time. He had mentally begun counting till ten. Ten is too big for such things, he thought and deemed five should suffice. He had hardly reached three when his wife tightened her grip and his neighbour decided to relax his legs and outstretched them. Blasted people could read his thoughts he felt. He was now beginning to see a hazy grey in front of him. Strange circular patterns with squiggly shapes kept rapidly appearing and dispappearing, morphing speedily. He almost had the urge to count them, but let it go - This was not the time, there were far more important things to do. His thoughts were drifting faster, unclear, unfocussed.

By now, time had run out. He was sure of it. The phone was still, silent, and lifeless. There was no glow anymore. "Damn, no more calls" he thought. Tension was eating him, he was beginning to get jittery and slightly cranky. He remembered his Guru's parting words - "When in trouble, son, and you can't do much, just LET GO. You'll find that tension kills a man faster than the trouble itself" He knew he had lost his chance and opportnity. The Guru has never been wrong, he has always shown me the path towards light. "Let Go" he felt like someone had whispered in his ears. He knew the caller wouldn't call again - at least not after cutting the call twice. "Let go" He decided to follow his Guru. As he did, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction; a feeling of gratification he had never felt for a long time. "Letting go was so much easier than wrestling this bi**h next to me. I need to start going to gym again, I seem to have lost touch. Flexing my muscles was never so difficult before." He was not uneasy anymore. He was in fact smiling, and he enjoyed the rest of the movie. "Let go" he said to himself. His wife on the other hand was beginning to feel weird. Why did her husband suddenly relax? His hands were not resisting her grip anymore. Did that other woman tell him something that passed me without my knowledge? She was unable to concentrate on the hero's final parting kiss on the heroine's forehead promising to be with her in their next brith. That something had changed was the only thing in her mind. Curiosity was killing her, eating and gnawing through her from within. She could not bear it anymore.

The movie got over with the heroine stabbing herself and resting on her dead beau's chest. The lights came on. She did not even want to see her husband's face. She decided to pat his thigh and demand an answer, the sooner the better before he came up with excuses. She did so, and instinctively pulled back after the first two pats... "Why are your pants wet?"

-- An attempt to mimic Karry Kavya's blog I know I can't write their style, but hey - I am me

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