*Ding-dong* and Priya woke up from her deep slumber with a jerk. The bed side clock declared that it was 1.30am. Getting up in surprise and in a partial daze she went to the front door of her one bedroom apartment and checked through the peep-hole. No one was there. She opened the door and the result was the same. Slightly annoyed, as she was closing the door, she noticed a small rectangular box, wrapped in a bright red paper, resting on the door-mat. Picking it up cautiously Priya closed the door. Placing it on her study table, as curiosity overcame her, she began to unwrap it. Eventually a beautiful full black body, polish coated pen was revealed. It had only a speck of a white ivory flower at the tip of the cap and on the body 'P.S' as engraved in gold. It was a spectacle to Priya's sparkling eyes. Then came the skepticism, but the clock was warning that it was already 2am. So she put the thought to rest and went back to sleep knowing that she had to get up at 6am for college tomorrow. She had ample time to ponder upon the magnificently shocking gift tomorrow.
* ----------*
Priya Sharma, 21, an over achiever right from nursery. Coming from a middle class Indian family the usual was her case too. Her parents, father a meager government employee and mother a housewife, had high hopes for her and drowned her with their dreams right from the beginning. Her fate was predetermined - doctor or bureaucrat. It came oh-so-naturally that she never even learned dreaming for herself. Being the ideal daughtter she accepted 'the road most traveled by' with open arms. Getting a chance aT IIM, Mumbai was the best thing that happened to her, or so she was told.
* ----------*
The next evening Priya was exhausted even before she could reach home. On the door a small note welcomed her.
Your Welcome.
P.S - Happy 21st
It was her birthday! Looking at the calendar was a luxury. 'Forgetting one's own birthday' she thought 'perks of having no friends.' Remembering that she had dodged her mother's calls all day, she quickly called her back. The first wish all day, oh no wait the second. Her thoughts returned to the note and the pen. The incident regardless of being highly suspicious, was extremely intriguing. After racking her brain for hours, Priya could find no answers as to who could pull off such a stunt. Ultimately she dismissed it as a joke, and returned to her work. No time to worry about such serendipitous moments, while a high-end job was waiting; for her parents.
* ----------*
Tow days went by as usual, no further astonishing events did Priya encounter. But then there it was again, a small card stuck to her door, welcoming her. With piqued curiosity she entered, the card in hand.
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.
- Robert Herrick
And on the other side,
P.S - Call me captain.
Utterly shaken, confused and disoriented she just sat there. Thinking everything and nothing at all at once. Late into the night she gave up and went to bed.
Next day distraction was in the air. Nothing could be concentrated upon. It was so unlike Priya. All her life nothing else moved her as much as two cards and a pen did in two days. That evening another card was waiting for her.
That you are here,
That life exists and identity.
That the powerful play goes on,
And you may contribute a verse.
- Walt Whitman
This was intolerable. The curiosity and anxiety gushing through Priya's veins made it impossible to concentrate on any other activity. Worrying about the 'who?' and 'why?' now seemed useless. The police would be of no help and anyway the letters were hardly threatening. Intriguing, yes. But certainly not something to complain about.
Priya now started to think about what this 'Captain' could be trying to say. She couldn't talk about it with anyone, or else her parents would start a hue and cry. But keeping it all inside was unbearable. So she started to write. Her forgotten passion was a herculean task. The first few days, blank paper was the only result. But that's okay, Shakespeare wasn't made in a day. Gradually the flow started coming back, a drop at a time. She would write anything that came to mind, whether it made sense or not. To Priya the feeling was liberating.
* ----------*
'Contribute a verse,' these words stuck as inspiration, always posing a challenge. It seemed that 'Captain' had left her alone for two weeks now. Then again one day a note was waiting for her at the door.
Never give up, Never surrender
Life is all about the fight.
Neither success, Nor failure;
Only the journey maketh great men.
P.S - Goodbye
Priya dropped out of college.
* ----------*
Staring out of the window of her house in Darjeeling, as Priya recalls the serendipitous incident that occurred five years ago it occurs to her that all it took was a pen, four notes and a stranger to change her life. Now being an acclaimed best selling writer, Priya's life is finally her's.