You Should Never Count The Hours

Of all the things we did together, I am always reminded of the day when we tied our towels around our necks. Mine was blue, his yellow with Donald Duck on it. It was winter and the bed was aplomb with fluffy blankets covered in cotton covers – a perfect setting for becoming superheroes with capes and infinite energy. His parents and mine sat in the verandah, talking grown up talks about people and money and work. We stood up on the bed and then jumped up and down on the blankets, imagining our capes flying in the still air of the room. Once bored, we threw the blankets on the floor, aiming to stay for a longer time in the air and spread our towel capes wider. So, he jumped first and I followed him. The happiness and contentment we felt were exhilarating. We climbed back on the bed and jumped again. And again. And we climbed the bed and jumped and floated in the air.

I was spread flat, my left hand folded on the side and right arm stretched forward. The cape flapped in the air and I saw the ground beneath my stomach which was beyond the air in between. On the ground were walking time and memory, hand in hand, looking up at me and smiling. I smiled back and pushed myself further and flew for an hour. I could have flown for two hours but I halted after an hour when I spotted a pigeon hopping alone.

Hey there! – I shouted.

It looked up tilting its neck sideway through his red eyes.

Where is your friend? – It asked.

I looked around and he was not there.

I don’t know. – I answered. He must have flown elsewhere.

Do you plan to meet him? – It asked. Pigeons ask too many questions, I can vouch for it.

Obviously, I will meet him. – I answered.

All the best. – It said and started to hum a song. I was disturbed and I started to miss him. I felt uneasy, so I turned back and landed in the school library.

We were standing together in front of a shelf named ‘Adventure Books’ in the newly opened library of our school. We stood there silently and stared at the shelf for some time. Then we both reached out to pick one book each – I picked up ‘Treasure Island’ and he chose ‘Adventures of Huckleberry Finn’. The books were thick but we decided that we will read together, aloud. So we read aloud our first non-academic books and it took us two months to finish them. I still remember ‘the best fighter and smartest kid in town’ and the quest for the buried gold. We accompanied Tom Sawyer and his gang and went on the quest with the pirates to hunt for gold. We somehow managed to save ourselves from the sinking ship and rowed a makeshift boat in the middle of the ocean. In between, he got tired and coughed a lot in the scorching heat, surrounded by salty water. So, I rowed alone. I kept on rowing further and further and rowed continuously for an hour while he slept. I could have rowed for two hours but I halted after an hour when I saw a dolphin performing acrobatics alone.

Hey you, Dolphin! – I shouted.

Hello. What are you doing in the middle of the ocean? It is not a safe place for a child like you. – Dolphin said.

We, my friend and I, ventured out to find gold on an island with a gang. But the ship sank and we two survived. – I said.

Oh. I understand. Gold is difficult to find. – Dolphin replied in a manner that spoke of a personal experience.

But, I do not see your friend. Why is he not rowing? – It continued.

He is sick. He was coughing and is now sleeping. How far is the land? – I asked.

It is quite far. Rowing will not work. You will have to run on the water. – It said and whistled its way into the ocean.

So I patted him, lifted him up on my shoulder, stepped out of the boat and began to run. I kept on running but the finish line was nowhere to be seen. I could hear people cheering us up from the crowd of our school stadium. Our parents were also there, each pair cheering its child. He was quite ahead of me, I could see that, but suddenly, he slipped and fell on the ground. I immediately stopped and went to him while our teachers and my parents shouted at me to keep running. How could have I run when he was there on the ground, his right knee bleeding. I lost the race, I would have anyway lost it but everyone kept on reminding me that it was a competition and I shouldn’t have stopped. They said, in the real world people would win and people would lose, they would rise and they would fall, but I would be needed to keep on going forward. That is how life was meant to be lived. Listening to this made me sad about growing up but was soon balanced by the hope of watching television as per my wish like grown ups do.

I might have taken it seriously when they said I shouldn’t stop if someone falls because when once he fell from his bicycle on the road in front of our house, I could not listen to his cries. I was watching my cartoon show (obviously, after taking permission from my parents) when this happened, or so I was told. When I came to know that he went unconscious and was rushed to the hospital, I thanked God that it was not my responsibility to carry him on my shoulders as I would have definitely run slower than the ambulance. Two days later, we, my parents and I, went to his house. He was lying on a small makeshift bed, and was covered with a white blanket. His nostrils were stuffed with cotton buds and I think his ears were too – I am not too sure. I do not care when my ears are blocked because I can still live. But with nostrils blocked, how can one breathe? When his father and my father and two of his uncles lifted his bed with him still sleeping, I was told that that he died of a disease. They were idiots, I thought. He did not die of any disease but because these stupid grown ups blocked his nostrils. Anyone would die. Especially, if someone was unconscious and you stuffed up his nose, how would he breathe when he gained his senses. He would die. And so he died, but no one believed me and everyone wept when I told this.

I ran back to my house. It was the next winter and I saw a sparrow perching on my balcony and a goldfish in my aquarium. I looked at them and they looked back, crying. Outside, on the streets, I saw memory and time walking hand in hand, but this time, weeping. Everyone was sad. I climbed up on the bed and tied the yellow towel with Donald Duck on it. I jumped from the bed but did not land. I kept on flying and was greeted by a flying dolphin and a swimming pigeon. They smiled but not to me. To him who was flying by my side. He turned his face towards me and we laughed our hearts out and pushed ourselves further and further. We flew and kept on flying. Then we rowed the boat full of gold and Tom Sawyer’s gang. We rowed and rowed. I did not count the hours this time. You should not also, never.