The Watch Beyond the Wall

by Kaartikeya Bajpai

Chasing the white rabbit past Wonderland, and over the bridges that connected the hinterland to the outstretched tendons of the Giant Sequoia tree, she stumbled upon the plastic chair next to her bed. It was a raven morning, the kind that was sharp in its overtones, and yet, largely shunted by the black of the night still to depart. The breeze climbed up the stairs to her room, bringing with it the smell of the ugly black coffee that was probably being poured into their cups now.

At seven, young Miss Pavni was one of the few early risers of her age. Her mind worked in mysterious cobwebs of ways, making long jumps from Alice and Aladdin to Mowgli and Jataka in the short span of a day. Short span it was, for it didn’t re-live; her mind fiddled with the cords of the stories, turned them upside down and created new ones. In a day, she crafted four to five stories, even as she went about her daily routine of school, playground, television and snuggling up with Maa. If only she could write them or make movies out of them, she would have been the next big thing in animation and children’s literature.

But creating stories was the better part. On the other hand, what was yet to be explained to her delicate little self by herself, was the Wall. As she chartered her mind to create, and flew around the city on a magic broom, she was almost always met by a blank wall. Stretching on as far as her brown eyes could see. Its bland tastelessness angered her. Nobody would have liked to be covering ground and air in eccentric worlds, only to be slapped in the face by a structure of such size that the entire field of vision was reduced to a percent of the original joie de vivre of the worlds that preceded it. In the ghastly white immensity of the cement, it was a pain to look at, after all, cement killed the worlds in the first place, she knew. When the worlds were recreated in her mind at night, the Wall, she noticed, hid the moon, and no matter how high she flew, the moon was history.

On some days, when the day outside was mellow, she would make villains more powerful than the creators of all Disney villains combined could ever imagine. Her disinterested self would never fight them; she would create backdoors and underground networks of guinea pigs that carried her to the safety of her world.

“Make your bed before you go,” Maa said, like Maas always do. Pavni of course, shut out such conversations. They usually ended up occupying brain cells that had the pages of her Beast and his Beauty. The lovers had to come together, Maa’s ‘make your bed’ didn’t really stand a chance.

“And, Amy called. She wanted your English notes,” She added, from behind the newspaper, like Maas always do.

Knesset was the Italian parliament, read Pavni as her eyes glanced over the front page, and said, “They have a rat problem there.”

Quite suddenly, a mysterious call informed Maa that the school was off; there were things at work that day.

“Can I go with father today?”

“Why don’t you help me out with some work?”

“I haven’t seen his new office!”

Maa scrutinized Pavni’s face intently for a few seconds. The girl meant no harm.

“Ask Sheila to pack your lunch too. And don’t you be upto any mischief.”

They all liked their lunch packets light. It was said that the Bhatts missed dinners due to forgetfulness, collective forgetfulness. They were just never hungry.

The little girl swung around the tie-wearing, god-fearing, family man. Her father’s office occupied the L and M wings of the Victorian Building, a half mile away from the centre of the town. She toured the museum of colonial expiries. She knew most of the men in suits, there was always one extra lap to sit on in official parties.

A bend in the stairs leading up to the sixth floor unmasked her father’s boss, an obnoxiously sweet round man, whose face she sometimes gave to the funny fat man called Humpty Dumpty, who starred almost unflinchingly in all her fantastical worlds. Of course, that is supposed to be expected, since there was a Wall that just wouldn’t budge, and no Humpty could let that opportunity go.

Her world felt like a bordered page to her, and she wrote within the thick grey borders; but what mind is not curious to taste the forbidden candy? Her colourful palette built bridges, made of trees, cement and stone to climb up the Wall and peek beyond. The higher she went, the more terrifyingly the Wall loomed.

“Hey sweetie, your father is looking for you.” The lady in uniform beamed.

“Yes, I need to use the restroom,” Pavni said, with the half moon of her little finger waved uncertainly.

“It’s down on the left side of that corridor. Do you need help, Pavni?”

“I will manage, thank you.”

Pavni walked till she was within the lady’s eyeshot, but not a second later. She leapt down two flights of stairs. A right turn opened the door to the canteen kitchen, and to a collision. The two of them, the girl and her dinosaur, fell down loudly, while the man who had been the source of this fall, leapt back uncertainly in horror.

“I am so sorry, dear girl!” The man picked her up in his arms. There was a small bump on her forehead, her fingers rolled over to find more. But then, the head itself is a crash bump.

“Pavni, angel, nothing happened, see? You are fine!”  He gave the lifting nudge to get her on her feet. It wasn’t hurting, so she decided not to cry.

“I am fine. And I am sorry too.” The slant nod mimicked the titling smile. She picked up his watch from the floor; it was still working. “Here, uncle.”

On a street corner in a fairly-lit part of town that was known for its population of radicals, shadies, men in search of prostitutes, and writers in search of all such men, was the shop that had been the provider of an exemplary Titan dial holding on to two leather hands, and the leather hands holding on to the small metal workings that made it a family best known for its surname rather than individual members.

He took it delicately, “Thank you, child,” and patted her head. The princess daughter of Office took the lift to the sixth floor, while Kulpreet Bahadur went back into the kitchen. Since that morning, Bahadur was a lost man. He had been bothered by the incessant nagging that one felt upon realising that his watch had been fast by a whole ten minutes since God knows when. People had admired his punctuality; he was an example at the kitchen. “Look at Bahadur, he has never been late in his life,” seemed like it was on a loop. There were occasional throws of dedicated, man of honour, hard worker, and such, but the incredulity at the face of his wrist watch annulled all those moments of praise and pride.

His life changed this very morning. He had been to the Town Hall on a sudden and unexpected note. There, mounted upon the towering tower was the Big Ben of the curious people of this town, the harbinger of news that his watch was fast. For someone who never looked at anything beyond his watch to read time, this was a shock. He gazed at it long and wide, the hands of the clock pointing to his home on one side, and his office at the other. Sadly, he realised, he had never had work that required him to stop by the huge clock for so many years now. A fast watch has no excuse for being, Bahadur thought bitterly.

And now he had managed to hurt Miss Pavni. Everything in his life seemed designed. A watch ahead of its time, and a careless rush; they had to happen on the same day. Poor Miss Pavni.

The browse of her father’s eyes registered the bruise and scratched elbows.

“Did you fall down?” he asked, beckoning her. “Your mother is going to kill me.”

She laughed and jumped on to him. “I didn’t fall down.”

“You couldn’t have gotten into a fight at my office, I am sure.”

“No. No, silly.” She shook her head. “I just walked into a wall.”

“Did it break down, honey?” He asked absentmindedly, pressing the button in the lift with the free hand.

“See, that’s the thing,” she bobbled her head, contemplating the Wall. “How do I break it? How do I cross it?”

“The wall? I know what you have to do, child,” he said, as they waited for the car.

“How, daddy?”

“Hey, pull down the windows, will you? It is hot in here.” Mr. Bhatt had had a rough day arranging his cabinet and part-explaining part-convincing that kitchen employee: It is not life threatening to have a fast watch. It had taken all day, and Bahadur was a satisfied man by the time he left. Mr. Bhatt’s frustration came out on the town’s climate.

And to his daughter, he only said, “You are becoming skinny, Pavni. Start paying attention to your health. Why can’t you eat properly? Eat as much as you can; you need to be strong, don’t you? Lots and lots of green vegetables, and I promise you, you will break the wall down.”

That night, the two of them slept peacefully – one had solved her Wall problem, and the other had decided to keep his watch 10 minutes fast for the remainder of his life.

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