Throbbing Perseverance

Noah sat by the lane and thought of a durable title currently relishing. Sarcasm, odium and antagonism filled in him though he looked at life with a special perception. He wanted to think positive and move forward into this modest world of mankind. He couldn’t stop viewing the new-fangled faces that appear transversely and met many dicks and pricks with immense enthusiasm though a little abnormally habitual. Like an itinerant traveler he marked his attendance in many populated Indian cities, many of which he only could comprehend from the Indian history text books during his school days. His flawless elegance with the language shipped in by the East India Company gave an upper hand and projected him as a very erudite person among the people he came across. Noah altered his resolute prototype life style to control the contemporary circumstance. He considered Vege meal as Haram (an Arabic word meaning forbidden) and always dwelled on fish and meat all through his yester years, selection scarcity and a fully digested wallet forced him to munch the self tagged haram… Is he turning into a Vegan?


Noah the wanderer, lacking a permanent address reached a small village in Madhya Pradesh and decided to spend few days in the village where the Pandava’s (Hindu Myth historical figures from Mahabharata) claims to have spent some time. Noah thought for a while, expressed gratitude to some lame soul for being in his own country and for knowing how to converse in the national language Hindi, though not so fluent. Noah spoke a mix of Urdu and Hindi, something he picked up from his school days in the Gulf, where there was a mix of Pakistanis, Indians and a few other nationals. Though the mumbling flow of Hindi made people laugh but had an answer for all the petite questions and would travel kilometers to cyber only to return with a response. He walked around the village looking for something like a hotel to lodge himself, his sight could not pick anything that looked like a lodging area other than a bunch of shops with a brown cardboard piece hung in the entrance with write ups on it which read ‘ramus grosscerry’, ‘teas and phorn’ ‘vikus sabji’ and ‘billus press’. Noah walked towards one of the shop to query about a possible place to stay. He was escorted to the sarpanch’s (village head’s) house and that was the only place where he could stay for Rs.100 per day including dinner. Noah was pleased at the same time surprised from the dinner part. The common practice of any hotel would have been a stay with complimentary breakfast. Noah immediately agreed and was escorted to a big courtyard which had a house in the center and six huts bordering the boundary walls, which looked moreover like a staff station.

The room though had no class but was neatly maintained with a cot made of coir and a pillow. Within minutes Noah had this feeling of someone trying to bake him alive, due to the immense heat inside the room. His escort cultured him to drag the bed outside during the day times as it will be cooler outside under the shade of a tree just outside the room and if preferred had the privilege to slumber outside provided he belonged to the crepuscular family who ruled the area during twilight and bright moonlit night in the form of jackals. Not wanting to take chances until he gets his crepuscular ID card decided to get himself baked. Noah was shown a hand drawn water well where he could freshen up and was advised not to use the water well between 5 am to 7 am, a time when it would be used by the ladies of the Sarpanch family. The surpanch though unqualified was a refined man because he had a privileged restroom which was appropriately maintained for the guest.

The lone place where Noah could eat was at the tea and phorn outlet which again belonged to the surpanch and would be open from 7am to 6pm, the only place in the village where a phone (in the form of phorn) was available apart from the sarpanch’s domicile. The accessibility to the phone never amused him at any point because he had none to call though was glad to know what ‘phorn’ was. The working hours of tea and phorn outlet solved Noah’s concern as to why dinner was complimentary with the stay. Noah walked into billu press with the intention to eradicate time by flipping pages of some Hindi film magazine but was traumatized on entering the shop to find it a place to iron your cloths. Billu was right in his own way and Noah wouldn’t have been in the state of trauma only if he knew the synonyms of the word “PRESS”. Apart from a remote range of mountains in a distance there was nothing to venture still Noah decided to take a stroll in the village.

A little job was on offer by the sarpanch and Noah decided to take it up. Noah’s magnetism was colossal to aid his food and lodging to be taken care by the sarpanch. His hunger started to perish and his wallet got a feeling of contentment by teaching the village kids the imported language. His gush for the foreign language was immaculate that he soon became a protagonist among the neighboring villagers. Noah’s nomadic life style increased his endurance and the resilience for determination. He made his little funds from the village though had no plans to inhabit there. Noah never made friends for the fact that none could feel his howl. Psychotherapy is the most easy article one can provided and Noah was a victim of it though never complained. Noah retaliated when he was answerable to these psychiatrists, he never sought someone to emphasize his mistakes, and he agrees that he is at fault and the intensity being so high that correction is irrelevant.

Noah will live until he is endurable, the world will know he’s corroded when his write ups perish.