The Park Bench

 

The park bench stood under the spreading branches of the rain tree, a survivor for many years and worse for the wear. Though they had started life at almost the same time, the tree had grown from a fledgling plant to a mighty one that sheltered birds and other small creatures

Time had robbed the bench of its glossy green paint, the surface gouged and scarred by idle boys or zealous lovers, its iron ribs bared by the sun and the rain. But it still welcomed ardent young couples declaring eternal love, weary feet tired with their daily journey and the old burdened with the years. Nobody including dogs and cats were denied shelter.

The bench could feel a tremble in the iron bolts that secured it to the earth and could guess the reason in every crack of its rusted bones. It was the dreaded arrival of Shere the djinn who had made his home in the tree but very often stretched out on the bench. If he didn’t want anybody to sit on the bench then he would make the occupants itch, feel that they were being attacked by ants or as if the very seat under them was about to break down.

Now Shere didn’t belong to the world of humans or animals and it was annoyed that those who belonged to the world of spirits were treated with scant respect. People shouldn’t assume that djinns should behave according to human expectations and remain imprisoned as in Aladdin’s lamp.  So it all depended on Shere’s moods and he could really play the vilest tricks. His travels to a remote sphere were over and he was back at one of his favorite places. Balancing on the topmost branch, he called up sharp gusts of wind that scared the squirrels and the birds and laughed to watch them rush helter-skelter. Amused with the confusion he was now ready for his place on the bench.

 A lady clutching on to her phone and handkerchief had beaten him to his rightful place. He was on the verge of tripping her up while he could take the opportunity to occupy the seat. Shere stopped when he noticed fat tears rolling down her cheeks. He waited to hear her conversation.

 “Are you at the park and looking across the road?” said the voice on the phone.

“I just can’t help coming”

“It isn’t going to change anything.”

“I feel guilty that we had the tiff just before he left home. I didn’t say goodbye.”

“Well you didn’t know that you wouldn’t see him again.”

“The accident happened because he was upset.”

“There is no way you can bring him back. “

She held on to the phone and kept crying while wiping away her tears. In a few seconds Shere had guessed what had caused the grief. The woman was in a daze while Shere sat next to her.

 She heard a familiar voice was. “Don’t cry. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was in a hurry and it was getting late for work.”

“So was I and didn’t notice that the traffic signal had changed.”

“Who knew that this would be our last meeting?  At least if I had wished you goodbye.”

“You must try and be brave. Don’t come back and keep looking for me at the traffic crossing. Let us both say goodbye.”

The woman felt that she was being comforted by her husband and an acknowledgment that neither of them was really to blame. She fumbled for her phone, she wasn’t too sure but there was a closure and finally they had said a last farewell.  Those few moments had been deeply personal and had helped to lay at rest the pain that she had been carrying. It freed her from regret, lessened her heartache and made the return to her daily life easier.

  Shere stretched out as taking on a human form was taxing. Of course he could sustain a physical shape but it was more convenient to be an invisible spirit and do as he pleased.

Shere’s midafternoon nap was broken rudely by a briefcase being placed on the bench. Though Shere was a spirit he still didn’t like being jumped upon. Immediately the briefcase fell to the ground and the contents were all over the ground. A young man fell all over himself trying to gather the papers which were being blown in a sudden eddy of dust, dried leaves and grass. These were the papers that he was to present at the office meeting that he hoped would pave the way to at least a raise if not a long desired promotion. Frustrated and helpless he waited for the wind to die down before attempting to get everything in order. Smudged, dirty and creased these bore no resemblance to their original state but maybe he could get another set printed if he hurried. Clambering to the ground had made him look grubby too. In his anxiety he hadn’t noticed that his lunch box had fallen to the ground and was under attack by a determined line of ants

The bench was sorry about Shere’s bad behavior but was happy that the young man did sit down for a few minutes before he continued his day. After all the bench had been set there to provide relief to those who were in the park and not for Shere.

The park was steeped in the simmering sunshine, stupefied in the intense heat. Shere sat on the uppermost branches and surveyed the scene that lay below. There was barely any activity and nothing much to interest his ever active mind, His vision encompassed the near and far and today nothing looked pleasing. Shere knew that as the sun started going down, there would be people of all shapes and sizes, old and young who would entertain and amuse him. It was the schoolboys with their hastily drawn up teams that often kept him busy. This probably would be the last game of cricket that Shere would join. He laughed to himself and made the ball fly through the air in the quirkiest paths and made some of the bowlers look foolish while the batsman hit resounding sixes. It depended on his mood and in a second he allowed the ball slip through the fingers of a nimble fielder. 

Upset and disappointed the young boy made his way to the bench as he watched the other team running to an unexpected victory. As he sat there downcast he found a puppy carrying the ball and sprinting in his direction. In a moment the dog’s attention was diverted to the lunch box that lay under the bench. Hunger proved a bigger attraction than the ball and he gobbled the scraps that lay in the lunch box.

Upset with his defeat and lost in his thoughts, the boy didn’t notice the homeless puppy following his footsteps. As he reached the door, the puppy stated barking and wagging his tail trying to enter the room. At the last moment he had a brilliant idea.  The family had not recovered from their father’s sudden death. It was his brother’s birthday and the puppy would make an ideal gift.

 Evening had set in and Shere’s plans were made. Maybe it was time to look for another haunt, leave the human world and travel to the dark underground. Through the corner of his eyes he looked in to some of the windows as he whizzed through the city of buildings bridges and towers. He noticed a woman and two male figures gathered around a table and cutting a cake. A puppy lay fast asleep near their feet. He was flying so fast that they became mere specks those three humans whom he had met in the park.

The bench stood still in the darkness of the night, knowing that the next morning he would be leaving for the scrapyard. The municipal authorities had marked him for removal and he would no longer provide a resting place for humans or djinns.

A surprise awaited the next morning. Shere in a generous mood had made the bench appear in a better condition. The demolition squad took one look and said, “The bench can remain for some more time. It doesn’t look so weather beaten.”

 

 

.