What a 51st. I wish this to be 50th.

Its no achievement. I have not won the presidency. I completed my 50th post and I did not realize it. This is the 51st. And its gonna be so not like it.


What is a relation? A connection between two people? A mother and a son? Two brothers? Two siblings? Two friends? Two lovers? Professional relation? Relation with your favourite music? Relation with your favourite food?

You name it. Lets listen to my answer: A relation is anything, but fucking permanent.  Today, writing this, I sense deep agony. I sense crucification of trust. I observe denial by none other than one of my most treasured one. Not that its for the first time. I ran the same path some years back. The only problem is, the grief is identical. Five years back, when I met him/her, s/he was a kid. Totally unaware of the world, inside a shell that had to be broken for him/her to get out and spread his/her wings. I worked hard on that, showered all my love, all my commitment, included him/her in my family as my only brother/sister. I never had one. So I just couldn't keep a control on my care and love. In between all this, I fell in a relationship with a girl. She, as it gradually turned out to be, transformed into my life. I loved her like my breath, and went to extreme limits with my commitment for her. Alongside, s/he was also there, slowly transforming in my only younger brother/sister I know.

A man doesnt know when he dies, he only knows when he  is stabbed.

Today, that girl is no more around, and for that matter of fact, is in a relation with someone else, when she used to cry fortnights for me. For us. This, now affects me zilch. Because I have lived my time, my agony, all alone in rooms, with friends, with tears, with pain, on streets, with beer bottles, with failure in academics. I so have been there and done that. So now, it hardly pains.

And s/he, just said to me that s/he hardly cares about what I think. S/he, whom I almost "raised" with all my devotion and sincerity as my brother/sister, now shows me the middle finger. Its a classic case of children-abusing-parents case. And let me tell you, it slices through the heart like a dagger. I loved him/her like my own body part, like my breath, and what did I get in return? A slap of disregard on my face.

Today, s/he says s/he doesnt want to talk about anything anymore. His/her statements make me feel like a polybag. Like used furniture. Like rotten fruits. I really dont have the slightest of idea whether s/he has any realization of this. I crumble along this trust deficit to serve my pain. I drag myself through agony to still love him/her.

S/he may have got wings to fly. S/he may have got fascinated by the fanaticism of the shine of the world. S/he may have stepped out and met new people and made new friends. S/he maybe flying solo and happily, but theres one thing I think s/he should remember.


There was someone who didnt sleep nights giving you new wings and repairing your old ones. Never forget them. Life isnt sweet enough to be at your service with another version of them, when you someday decline. You will, be sure of that. One day you would need a shoulder.

And if you are totally "i-dont-care-a-shit" now, that fateful day, you would wish you wouldnt have been so cruel to them.

They would be in heavens, still looking onto you with love, whereas you would be the one battling. Or maybe repairing someone elses wings.

A Page From My Imaginary Diary

To define the desperateness in me is not going to require knowledge of a hundred books. You just have to be with me, near me. Several people claim to understand it though, I can bet on my life, they aren’t even close. Only because they aren’t with me.  They don’t know. They aren’t living me. My thoughts reiterate the questions, and for the answers...they are yet to be found.

Where and when did I lose myself? A sinister moment for sure. However, I wonder whether it was just a moment. But if it wasn’t, how is it possible that I did not realise! I mean, I was losing the man I was so proud of, that is me, and it was me only who was losing me, and how come I couldn’t stop myself during all that time? Sounds so idiotic! But it is true. And I abhor the apathy. Presently, as I embrace the shrieks of street kids playing in the sun, I am trying to recollect any vision, howsoever botched up it might be, of me being similarly content and happy, unconcerned with the surroundings, and with myself, like the kids.

 And as usual, all efforts go empty. Presently, I feel the need of herculean strength to jot down all this. Why? I left writing ages ago. Those tit bits that I have penned down recently, na..I read them and my instinct clearly pops up; it was not me. I was brilliant. I was confident. I love(d) writing. But now, I can’t recollect the feeling when I actually ‘wrote’ last. In quite a similar manner, it seems my hero, that made me proud, was slained long ago.

I wish for a morning that does not begin with,

“Oh shit I again got up late, now the time available would be less, and ideally I should have bathed till now, I should do that, I have to read this, I have to listen to that...”.

Followed by, “Now what to do, where to start from. Forget it would sleep a bit more. NO! Get up! Its 12!.”

...and further,

“I am not being up to the mark; I just need to tweak myself up a little bit. I have to read that novel, I have to read newspaper, Oh, also the news. Damn, there was a bag that I had to get stitched. What about my music? I need to get into a band, I love that. And my profession? I am pretty good at that but yes i still need to gear up. Get information and knowledge. Oh damn my final year is approaching, need to prepare for the placements too. I need to plan my future... I mean what after college? Should I go abroad? Do i have to give all those shitty exams? Should I join this or should I study further? I am getting so fed up, I think I should write.

(I open the laptop, and sit in front of it, with a page opened in front and my hands on the keyboard..)

 “How should I begin? Ok this would be good....no no .... *delete*  *delete*  *delete*.....Shit I cant write anymore. I am lost.

.......after 25 min or so...

“Its 5pm, and I still haven’t read the news paper.....................................................”

And it begins again. And I hate it from the pit of my gut.

One thing that I can recognise in me is that the desire for exorbitant knowledge, that I borne during secondary school, has revived profusely (My unparalleled interest while listening to the Lok Sabha proceedings and craving to know the history of any damn country or place or thing, vouches for that immensely! Mind you, I was a student who used to almost puke at the name of ‘History’ and never went above 30’s or 40’s in Social Studies).  But the ends don’t fit together. I don’t know why. I seek umpteen knowledge, but I don’t know where to begin. I know there is no method of gaining knowledge, but thats what. Gaining knowledge is, and should not be obviously, the only thing in life! All the things that I want to do, never get aligned. Never are in order.  And I know, in the recent  one or two years everything has just remained incomplete.

I read the newspaper, I don’t grab the news, I look for excellent vocab. Later on, when I realise I don’t remember anything from the newspaper, I get frustrated that I wasted so much time. I was gifted a Salman Rushdie by a friend last May, believe me, I have not even finished the first five chapters! I mean, me, who used to literally lick off novels, of the likes of Harry Potter in 2 – 3 days, has been unable to finish one in more than a year!! Shameful. And highly discouraging. And like this, several things flash in front of me, reminding of my incompetency. Its seriously disheartening.

I don’t know from where to begin, what to do to achieve peace of mind. Every minute my brain keeps on spinning like a machines rotor. Thinking and thinking...I want it to rest. I want peace. I want to be satisfied with myself. I want to face the mirror and outdo my let downs. I want to see that look in my eyes, that killing confidence...I want to get in order. I want to be me.

Once Dad said, looking at a match of Sania Mirza, while she was resting for a moment,

“Forget about the idiocy of this woman, just look at her eyes right now. She is resting, but look at the way she is looking at her opponent. No cruelty, just intense confidence and an attacking spirit. This is the way you have to attack challenges of life.”

I want this. Back.

?s

So here am I. Leaving home to step in shit once again. I wonder why life needs to be so complicated. Why people are so unaware of their personal self. Why do they thrive on sadistic approach towards life. Grudge, just because the other one is better than you, isnt it a total loss of energy? I just wish people understood this...Or maybe I understood the cynicism. Maybe then my mind would feel confident. Confident of sheer happiness.

WTF

I am packing again. The very mention of  the word "college" ensues sourness upon me. Its been approximately 2 years now since I have stopped liking college (and in total its been 3 years since I entered college, wow). The mystery does not only involve the reclusion towards college, it points fingers at various other aspects; one being myself. Very often I dig deep down inside me to find the reasons for it, but every attempt leaves me more confused. And now I am really tired of trying.

I really have a pretty strong nonsensical feel right now. Because I have no idea where this is going. I know there is a lot of mess inside me, that is for sure. And I really want to sort it out. Its been long since I am accumulating all this shit and now its brimming, ready to explode, like a volcano probably. The only issue is that I probably don't know what  is the question. What is my confusion all about?? I do NOT want to think! I feel so damn stagnant. I get scared when I think that nothing at all is moving in my life, except time. Time has moved so far away, and I am still stuck. Where? I dont know. But I AM stuck. A better word to describe what I feel is "left behind", far behind. I feel like sitting besides a lake in an accelerating time warp. I feel I am still stuck, but time has moved on. Its where it should be, probably 2-3 yrs ahead of where I am. This feeling, is hell scary and excessively demotivating.

For eg,  when you see the younger generation around you, knowing more stuff than you, that too in a much better way, it shatters your own image of being an elder. You are supposed to guide them! Now what do you do when they laugh at your face because you are stuck? Because you dont know stuff? When they are relaxed and having fun and you, still trapped in your own conscience and your own questions?? It stabs your confidence right in the center. And mind you, the few lines above that are written in second person, are not actually meant to be like that. I am talking about myself here.

I know if someone reads this, they would ask, "What in the world is this guy actually trying to say!??" I am trying to put the pieces together. I am trying to solve all the questions which are staring and blaring at me! I want to live life and not remain stuck in between these questions.


Its not that people dont respect me. They do. But when I am in college, I see people forming groups. And i am in NONE. I talk to everyone, but people consider me as someone who is different. And yes maybe i am different, but why do i feel hurt when no one bothers to ask me when they are going out? Or why have I not formed connections well enough so that I dont feel awkward in going to someones place very often? Why do I feel I am expendable? What the hell is lacking in me?


Till recently, I was in a totally hopeless situation. I mean, recently I changed my image a bit due to something that happened. Someone very close to me made me realise what is STANDING FOR YOURSELF. I am very sober, extremely "boring" for the world (ppl close to me would never agree to this), very mature, very silent etc etc...people around me? The Opposite. Vibrant, Persistently commenting, pulling legs, downgrading ppl....once twice thrice, its ok. But continously!!! for 3 YEARS!!?? I somehow never gelled with that. That too in an EVIL way, kaminapan you can cal it. 






I dont know what I am writing. Signing off. 
(Th problem still remains :(.......)

The Bubble

It doesnt even budge my inner self now. Is this how life is? Is this how the cycle works? Right from no one, to an acquaintance, a friend, the most important one, your life, your sadness, your disappointment, your disgrace, your anger, your past, and once again-no one. I wonder if anything stays. If anyone stays. And here they go once again, Mr. Coldplay blasts in my ears, "We've been living life inside a bubble...". I just landed on the profile of my "no-one to no-one (NTN)" accidently on a famous social networking site. Her friend sent me a friend request. Its unusual for me to have my thoughts and feelings in coherence with each other. This time they were. And somehow I got a prompt NO. In perfect coherence. And I suddenly found myself feeling the bubble...

Nasamjhi

In badalon ki parchaayi,
Kuch yun hai gehrayi,
Jaise na samajh sake hum zindagi ko kabhi
Jo samjhe to lagi wo nasamjhi hi sahi...

Har chehra ek sawaal ban jaaye,
Har sawal ek khayal le aaye,
Aaina dekh kar yun sawaal utha abhi,
Na jane ye kaun hun, shayad aaine ki bekhudi...

Waqt ki daud thame na thame,
Wajood ki talash me yun jite rahe,
Par koi is dil se ye kahe to sahi,
Ki saansen abhi thami nahi!


Jaane kahaan raah chhod aaya kabhi,
Main hokar bhi main na ho paya kabhi,
Dabe zehen ki saanson ka shagird jo bana
Baarish me ye aansun chhupa aaya kahin!




In palkon ki parcchayi,
Ab fir hai gehrayi,
Kash samajh sakte hum khud ko kabhi,
To shayad is kaagaz pe aaj yun na hoti nami.........

Twisted

Suddenly an urge flared up on my fingertips. The next thought that crafted was that I dont want this to be a poem as it would require thinking. And this, I dont want to think and type.


Its been four long, arduous months since this facade has made itself an integral part of my life. Its almost in coherence with my tanned skin and severely tampered soul. Most of the readers of my blog (well, I guess there are just few of them) know that I write mostly when, as they say very disappointingly, "something happens" to me, or for that matter, with me. I say, its not that always something different happens to or with me. That something is just LIFE in either its angelic conformation or, very often the bitchy one.


This time, its neither of them. Its kind of twisted. Its a question, actually a horde of them, that has contorted the image of my own personality in me to great extents. There are so many questions, that very often it feels like my brain is no different from a sack being filled with rushing water, way beyond its capacity. And the part that is troublesome is, that the "sack" is still trying to hold on. Now it feels that the "sack" has a turgid conscience, one which has inflated beyond the capacity of self respect.

These days, when I hold the pen in my hands, all I manage to write is a tiny, as my confidence, a dot. It feels such a colossal task to even start! So much is happening, yet I feel like an empty vessel. A barrage of emotions fills my veins, but by the time they reach between my ears, it seems they get diluted with time, and contaminated by other thoughts residing there,  so much so, that the only change that happens is the dot gets darkened. Deep. And what happens next has become as frequent as the daily breath. My pen lays besides the dot, waiting to be picked up again in the so familiar tainted hope. And I, like the tiny dot, like the dark speck of beginning on my conscience, stay still where I was. Where I am right now. To some people who are really close, the monotony of this mess up would have begun to look like the monotony of seasons. Even the seasons differ in pattern and timing. But mine, both are unswayed everytime I hear a stressfull hello, if I hear one at all.

Why do I feel so caved out? Like I have been scraped from deep insides of my already damaged confidence? Scraped out each and everything that I possessed and was proud about? Sometimes it feels I am wasting this life that I have been gifted by the Big Man above. And sometimes, it feels as empty as an abandoned house for the past several years, a house which was a mammoth palace of exuberance and  glee. I have no answers to any of my questions out here. When I began writing (read: typing) this I did not know where would it finally lead to. I still dont know. I thought I will just write my heart out. But even when I am typing this I feel stuck somewhere! I just know that I have so much to do in life, so much on my mind every single day of the year, every single hour of the day that I feel I am lost. Both by location and by virtue.

Which path should I take? How would I know its right, even if I muster enough courage to choose one? What is this emptiness that is filled in me? College, phone(x 4), education, industry updates, assignments, projects, social networking, blogging, latest technology, newspaper reading, maintaining relationships, keeping in touch with friends (old/new/those who think they are and I simply abhore them but cannot cease contact due to some "social obligations"! :x), keeping in touch with important contacts, watching 24(its the latest addiction that haunts me even when I am under the shower), watching movies, gaining general knowledge, family........................damn. What not!

I just want my erratic thoughts to get straightened up and let me ease out. Let me know a way out of this shitty puzzle I am trapped in for the past 4 months. How to manage the above mentioned carcass of my brain in a day, so that I just feel that this life, is not withering away to disappear in thin air. I just want the whats and the hows and the whens and the whys to just get answered. I just want to feel substantial. I just want to accommodate the essentials in my life, become what I imagine myself as.

The problem is: I suddenly do not know how to.


And here again, my fingers withdraw themselves from this disjointed world of my confused ramblings....and I go back and play an episode of 24, silencing my quest towards myself until it rages again. Or till when, and if, a big if, I find my answers. 

And Thus I Wrote (Part-II)

Another one was in the form of a sudden realization that I have stopped writing. Actually, a much fiercer and abominable situation has been the birth of the feel inside me that I might not be able to recoup. Ever again. This realisation has the inherent potential of metamorphosing into a really dreaded situation because writing had been “the vent” for me ever since the demonized downswing. The feel of not being able to write ever again was enough to mess up my mental state of affairs. I have begun to feel like a lost nomad. Of late, I have been attempting to write regularly, but except crushed paper balls in my room and accompanied hopelessness, nothing met me.

But I believe in, “When you are just about to fall off a cliff, the tree branch you accidently cling on to is the perfect definition of a friend.” And that tree branch to me is a very sweet friend and a co-writer who came in contact after a long time and suddenly gave me just what was required for me to SERIOUSLY attempt writing. She kept a condition which left no choices for me other than writing! She said she won’t write on her blog until I write SOMETHING at least and believe that I can write and thus get back to writing. So I had to.
What to write, that was told by another special person in my life. (Believe me I am no better than a lost memory case presently! It feels like I am writing for the first time, which I am obviously not as is seen from my blog!) She just asked me to write something, ANYTHING. According to her, I should NOT try for a masterpiece in getting connected to writing after such a long time. I say, forget master piece, I do not even know if this is worth being called something!
Anyway, there is one more aspect about which I would write soon, (Yes! I have the urge to write at least another post.) Not here, as this is already stretched too far and too long.

And I genuinely do not know what title to give this, but one thing is assured: This is what I FELT. And thus, I wrote.


PS: Thanks to those two special people.

And Thus I Wrote (Part-I)

I received a mail today forwarded by my sister. It had a story in it. I knew what it was made of. So I didn’t read it. I went to the washroom and splashed water on my face real hard. And stared at the mirror. Actually, I stared at me. And “me” stared back. This faceoff usually is detrimental to the arising mess in my brain. So, it was a relief again. The mail was another attempt by someone who was very close to me to achieve god knows what by making me read it. Actually, I am still unsure whether to use “was” would be correct. But I guess the blistering and eventful past that I had, left me with no other option. There are similar mails, which lead to similar mirrors, which in turn lead to similar stares and similar thoughts that I encounter. The point is, all this happens almost daily. I have lost account of the time since when all this has been an integral component of my already undefined and random life.

Phew. I finally got an OK from my conscience for the above paragraph. I say so because I have been experiencing an intensely choked up, stagnated mind state since a long time now. Imagine to be forcefully stuffed in a half your size air bag, your and the bags mouth sealed with a scotch tape, limbs tied around with dry, rough jute ropes and silently placed in the middle of the room where people are doing heavy breathing yoga exercises to relax themselves, with none of them opening their eyes so that they could see you and help you! Height of mental and physical exertion? That is what has been my mode of living, rather existence, for the past many months. In every domain, irrespective of its nature, I have been feeling the same. And I really have no clue what to do. Relationships (I am not only talking just about the “youth love”, it includes friends, families, acquaintances and some undefined but special ones too), academics, hobbies, interests...everything has been facing a major blow.

One of the major setbacks has been the totally unexpected end to 2009. I had my 5^th semester exams over, and it was no less than the end of a mini world war. I was jubilant and exulting in high spirits. All the frenzy and excitement with which I came back home got snapped off in a moment. In one phone call. It was the New Years Eve and all that I was expecting from her call was a wish. No, she was not the girl with whom I was in a relationship. In very recognizable terms, she was not my Girlfriend. She was someone who was (still have doubts about using the past tense, how I wish I had been left with an option) very close to me. She held an extremely special place in my life. A girl whom I loved. But not as my girlfriend. Just as someone.........someone whom I LOVED FROM THE CORE OF MY HEART. I had gone through a very vehement downswing in my life 2 years back just for the fact I got committed in a relationship. She came to the rescue and made me believe. I didn’t want to repeat that downswing. Just the fact that I really liked her as a person and that she was there, was enough. But I guess not for her. She had one question. What about the future. I said I am 21 only. She said I love you a lot but cannot carry on like this without a relation or future commitment. All this when the world stepped forward into 2010. I for a change, had nothing to say. I had another blow. I wanted to return to 2009.

Place for my head!

I am wondering why I am writing here when I usually prefer a paper, that too which is kept to myself. But then I looked around and glanced at the clock. 3.10pm. And I realised that this is the second time I am waking up in a day. I cant find a paper and a pen. No one is at home. Brother out for tuitions, mom and dad on work....and me...On this couch where I fell asleep 3 hours ago after having breakfast. Fell asleep again...3 hours ago.

Sometimes what happens, you are sitting in a bus(whatever), and your glance lands on an aged man in the corner of the street busy in his chore. And your mind starts building image of the personality about that person. And you reach on a conclusion about his family, maybe he is living alone etc. You think "He must be around 50-60, with a small house, earning his daily wages..Maybe he is arrogant, and is not in good health.....his wife and kids are living alone some kms away. Maybe he had sacrificed a lot for his family and now is living alone for them to be happy. Maybe he was a kind soul, yet arrogant, and person with values......." ...and what not. You draw out a complete image of his heart and his life. And mind you, all this takes just a split second i.e. as your bus(whatever) turns around that corner.

The other side of the coin is you come across a person, whom you talk to, unlike the old man at that street. Whom you become friends with. Whom you just...just like to talk to. And so you do. For hours and days and months.........And you rest yourself in the comfort that the person is one with whom you can be great friends with! And that you know them! And you quickly, add that person on all the social networking giants on which you spend most of the time of your day. And you are happy. That you found a good friend! And when you talk for a long time, you like talking more. With every passing day, that friend of yours, becomes more special. And adds on to write in your "Life Book" a new chapter. Without you realising it. One fine day you realise it, and its not LOVE that I am talking about here. You just realise the darkness of the ink with which this chapter was written in the book. Its DARK and engraved. Like a kid who writes hard pressed with a dark pencil for the first time in his school notebook. It feels good that it has been written. That someone, is so close that HE can edit YOUR "Life Book".


And one fine day, maybe a decade later, while you amble across that same corner of the street, you remember. That bus ride. You walk up to a nearby store to ask about the old man, and you get to hear this:

"How a good man he was though a bit arrogant. In his mid 50's he succumbed to bad health. Living alone in an old shack, he used to garden here to earn daily wages as he lost his job. And all that because of his cunning wife who lives with their kids at a distance of few kms. Sacrificed a lot for them. A man of values he was."

And it feels like déjà vu. You sit alone sipping your favourite coffee. The past cascades in front of you. Its tough to feel, that your favourite networking site doesnt have that "SPECIAL PERSON" anymore. And you flip through the pages of your "Life Book" to find that chapter. Its still there, written in the darkest of ink. But what you see, is that it has been earmarked, and left in midway...........just because a decade earlier, someday your conscience realised that you never KNEW them.

You still knew that old man on the street.


And you get your stomachs filled with a lump that travels up to your throat, choking your conscience. A stinging realisation strikes you. That maybe you were just ballistic in life. You never stopped. And questioned yourself, "Do I KNOW this person?"

And suddenly the page was left half written, because KNOWING is not easy....

Summer '09 - A lavish explanation!

Delhi's temperature is escalating by the day. So I got another AC installed at my place, in the hallway this time. (This step was specially taken for my mum who faces the kitchen heat everyday!) Now I am sitting here. Earlier I used to sit in my own room which, obviously, doesn't have an AC (I am not a descendant of a super filthy rich ancestry, quite the opposite I guess..). But somehow, I feel this AC had a different effect. Because I feel like "writing". After exactly 40 days since I last wrote something.

Anyway, first I would like to describe my absence. My exams started and I had to disappear, and then vacations of more than 2 months were round the corner. I returned home, and was gifted with the news that out of those two months of my holidays, I had to spend 1 interning. So bags packed, and by the end of the first week I was out. A complete travel freak, with sheer clarity I absolutely carved out the frolic journey that I was about to experience. Though I did not even guess, or care to guess, that the frolic would get blotted with patches of quest: about my own self.

Ok, so on the 3rd June late afternoon, the humid greasy late afternoon welcomed me at Ahmedabad airport. It had been over 5 years since I last visited Gujarat. So I realised that this was the 6th time now. My destination was around 2 hours from Ahmedabad. I left the airport by mid late evening, and crossed Baroda and Surat on the way. Though just touching the outskirts of Surat. Reaching the destination, I was told that I had to shifted to the site immediately, which was again 140kms away. The weather mellowed down, with a greyness and cool around. And the person driving the car, I guess, figured out that I loathed lousy speeds. So he pressed the accelerator.....enough to make the air hit my face hard enough. And make me smile as approaching milestones swished past me..........

I reached the site in one hour. Got my accomodation. Settled down, and was told to start work from the next day. I loved the place. The weather. The people. There was hardly any thing that I did not like. Umm...actually there was. My laptop charger got screwed up by the first weekend. And my phone after 3 days of the above disaster. I became restive. Damn frustrated. Though I somehow managed to cure my phone problem, I missed my laptop for the whole period of one full month. Another reason why I could not write. (Reason : Excuse :P).

Anyhow, I started working. 8am to 8pm. Nothing else except work. I used to come online for some wee hours of the night, but blogging was something that I just could not manage. I used to feel like a thoroughly beaten ass by the end of the day due to the work and writing in such an awesome situation was something that I could not afford. I was still human guys. :). Days passed with me working like a full time rented ass, who wasnt provided the liberalness of anything except having his food. That too, if generosity prevailed beyond humane limits.

Two weeks passed and an incredible twist was in store for my modus operandi since I started. I had to meet a really close friend. We met and had fun for four eventful days. For me that acted as a lumpful breather. I relaxed and the beauty of that time is impeccable. A substantial break from work was essential. And such a beautiful break....nothing better that i could have asked for.

"Nothing remains." I knew it. And in less than an eye twitch, I found myself again playing ping pong with tons and tons of iron. And also trying to reason out my decision of coming for my interns. But as I read somewhere very recently, "To have a gain of something, you've got to loose everything first." So work followed. And I followed it.

For the next 15days, I met people, talked on phone, (too much...damn too much..), completed a project ALONE (Supposedly, to be done by 4 people), and waited. WAITED FOR THE LAST DAY. AND MY FIRST EVER TRIP TO MUMBAI!

3rd July 2009, my last day of interns, I could see my bag packed. And I smiled. By the end of June, the rains had set in properly, and it was coldly misty and windy all throughout my way to the railway station. And again, the car was speeding. And again, I was loving it. I got in the train, it shunted, with me sitting by the wet, dripping wet window, and it left the station. It was one beautiful journey. I met people, which I had never done before. I had been to the North, the South and the Central belt of India. But in the West region, no where apart from Rajasthan and Gujarat. As mentioned earlier, being a travel freak I really savored the trip. And rains! They added to the flavour .....



Dadar Jn., 6.45 pm
3rd July 2009.

Yes. I was there! Mumbai welcomed me with...the very famous, Mumbai Rains. The welcome on the station was much better though. I went to a friends place to stay overnight. We discussed college, upcoming results, my journey, women (not those from college! PLEASE!), food, plans for my stay in Mumbai etc. I had to meet two more of my friends who were doing their interns in Mumbai itself and I was excited. Next morning I woke up to this view from the window of the room:


Meeting my other friends at VT, the four of us went to Gateway, (Rainy Gateway!), Taj (Rainy Taj!), and I was exuberant! Seeing such a beauty, which I could not ever find in Delhi, I regretted the short stay I had planned for Mumbai. Marine Drive, Chaupati, Gateway, Taj, Causeway....and what not. Though I know I could not have covered a lot, I was still satisfied. The next day was another beautiful experience. I spent the whole day with special people and attended the workshop that was planned with a very good friend. The nights and the days were memorable. The next day I met a friend for lunch and spent the day with another very good friend. However the night was unimaginable. LITERALLY. I was with two of my very close friends, and we had planned dinner together. And marine drive was added to the plan. So I was at marine drive at 12.30am. Bliss, for me atleast. But my mood wasnt the way I had imagined it to be. I could not even think. Something happened and ...........and the "quest-blot" was there.

Another main reason I did not feel like writing for more than 10days now.

Though with a complex ending, this was one hell of a time I spent. And thus could not blog. Work was tiring, but hell interesting. Imagine, what you just read in books and see in pictures and read in long boring paragraphs, everything happening right in front of you! And then meeting people, friends, some for the first time, some for the nth time! And that too in Rainy Mumbai!

Now I am back in Delhi. Hope that I remain regular. Though it might take time for revival, but the spirit in me is surely poking me in the ribs. And waking me up....



(By the way people, I got royally screwed up right now for keeping the AC on for hours continously............. :P) .

The Moment (Part II)

Hey guys.. Here's the second one...! ;P Cheers :)

The Journey
As his head collided with the wall of the train compartment, he managed to take a glance first at his watch and then outside the window. It was 5 am. He could hear the monotone of the "chaiwalla" which confirmed their halt at a station. He managed to look out with his heavy, tired eyes after clearing the hazy glass window. The dawn was on the verge of greeting him. It was bluish-white, windy and supposedly cold outside. He could see the red cloth getting swayed high up and vanishing in the air of Bina Jn. He was weel versed with the way now. Every station and its timing was etched subtly in his memory. Discarding every suggestion his mind put forth, he slided down back and was about to close his eyes. When his eyes fell on something. Something so captivating that he could not sleep anymore! He positioned himself to the maximum view and got fixed.

Alight by the blueness of the pre-dawn light, the girl in front seemed to be having the best sleep of her life. The blanket was just below her chin, as if intentionally slided down by God to let her pearlish, smooth and fairly white face light up the surroundings. The air inside the compartment was slowly meddling with her blonde tresses making the streaks slip and fall on her smooth cheeks with their ends falling on her thin yet seducing lips. He could feel the bewilderment caused to him. He routinely checked if someone around him was awake and staring at him perplexed at the beautiful sight. He could have wished for nothing better. And those moments were interrupted by a lady. Oh! How he cursed her! How he wanted to pause that moment of eloquent beauty! But as he wished for more the train screechingly came to a halt. He was about to move. But, she moved first.

Opening her angelic eyes, he looked towards him. And got conscious. Sat up straight, and slided near the window. She yawned and stretched reluctantly, conscious about her impeccable beauty.
He got conscious too, of his not-so-finely carved actions as she had. But what men are known for, he too was busy in portraying "cool" and "I-dont-care" attitude. When she struck.

Her: "Where have we reached?"

Him: (Looking towards her with extreme "coolness" and fumbles) Itawa...oh sorry...Itarsi Jn.

Her: Ohk! Thank You.

She took out her phone and called someone. After disconnecting the call, she comforted herself on the seat and looked out. He gathered all courage and blurted:

Him: Going to Bangalore?

Her: (Smiling) Yes.

Him: So you belong to Delhi or just paid a visit here?

Her: Arre nahi, main to dilli me hi rehti hun. Near east of kailash. Bangalore to bas relatives se milne jaa rahi hun. Tum kahaan se ho?

He never expected such comfort from her! Not at all! She sounded like she knows him since her birth! And he replied:

Him: Delhi se hi hun. Just completed my first semester of college. Chuttiyan thi to doston se milne jaa raha hun.

Her: Ohk! So you seem to be more of a "all-for-my-friends" person! Masti karne ka plan hai poora!?

And something inside him took a sigh of relief! And they hit off! Lunch time approached and both of them knew almost every detail about wach other. He told he stared at her in the morning, she hit him with her hands. She told him that she was scared of him in the starting, and he gave her a hi-five for theor friendship now! They went to the train door, stood there. Whole afternoon. They laughed upon the fact that why did they pay for the A/C ticket if they had to stand out only! They gossiped endlessly. Around 6, they reached Dharmavaram. And they stepped off the train on the platform.

The evening sky greeted them. They took a plate of daal-pakoda and shared it. The train moved, and they ran towards it! Climbed it and laughed their hearts out! Nothing awkward had happened yet. And there wasn't any scope if it either. Acoording to him only. They teased each other, exchanged phone numbers, exchanged hugs, and became best of friends. The journey was perfect. They had dinner together, played a game of checkers, discussed about their professional goals, about their families, about their interests, likes and dislikes...anything and everything under the sky! He felt like as if this was better than reaching Bangalore. They conversed till 3am. Talking on every random topic they could. Talking endlessly. When finally she said that she was hell tired and wanted to sleep. He agreed. But before dozing off, she struck again:

She: Oye! Idhar aa...
He: (Leaning Forward)
She: (Planted the smoothest and the most caressing kiss on his cheek)
He: Ye kya tha?
She: Kuch nahi...aish kar! Aur so ja!

Next morning something awkward did happen. He woke up at 11.30 and was amazed at a note in his pocket which read:

"Hi idiot,
Remember I didnt tell you something yesterday at Dharmavaram? I am suffering from breast cancer. I was not going to Bangalore. I will get off at 5am. You are snoring like a bear! I am going to get myself checked. Infact to get myself confirmed, that am I really gonna survive only 3 months or can I expect myself on this Earth for a bit longer time.

You commented that I came across to you as a girl who doesnt fear anything. Yes I dont! Coz' I dont fear death now! Its been 6 months now since i was diagnosed. And it doesnt matter anymore. Theres just one thing that matters to me now. YOU. Yes I Love You! I know thats bad but I can't help it! And I am as usual chirpy and telling you this with all my cuteness. So smile.

And by the way, we won't meet ever. And won't be able to talk also. (The no. I gave you is wrong. I didnt want you to go mad trying to contact me!) And nothing is SERIOUS. I JUST LIKE YOU. So dont be caring and sad as usual and dont think about me. Just take care of yourself and live life happily! I hope you find a girl who loves you lot! And takes care of you and your bhullakadness! I am happy. I will be happy always, even after leaving this world. (Maybe because I met you in the last moments!) Dont you worry.

Ok ab mera station aa raha hai. Mujhe jaana hoga. (Picchli baar bhi teri wajah se hi chhootne wala tha!) Please khush rahiyo and be with your family. Children are treasures of their parents. Make them proud.

Mmmwaah! Bbye!

Yours,
Wonder Girl. :)"


He didnt know what to do. He couldnt absorb it. He just couldnt. He went to the washroom and cried his heart out. Feeling light he returned to his seat. In just 3o some hours, he met a beautiful human being, me awarded her the place of one of the most treaured relations he had in his now lost heart. And now he had to delete the place. He had to erase everything. It was damn tough.

Sitting at the seat, the sun shone upon him. He couldnt feel it. How he wished he could see his wonder girl once again and scold her. And then hug her. How he wished he would have guessed her feelings. He just considered her a very good friend. How could he not see it in her! And then he knew. Her eloquent beauty enshrouded her feelings. Her pearlish fairly white faced decieved him. Her blonde hair hid every single of her desires under it. How he wished he could have told her that he is already commited. That he is going to meet his someone special to Bangalore.

Lost in his agonizing wishes, he saw the yellow board of Bangalore Jn. nearing him. The train halted. He stepped off the train and tried to forget the incident as a nightmare. But it failed. It was tagged. Embedded in him. He did not tell anyone about this ever in future. He just wondered, "Can anything be more spontaneously hurting? Can anything be more devastating?"

And securely placing the journey and "Her" on the sacred pedestal named "My Wonder Girl" in himself, he stepped ahead and greeted his friend with a smiling face, and a crying heart...

The Moment(Part I)

Hey guys..this is something which I wanted to post for a long time now. A series, with its first part right here. Hope you enjoy reading...!


THE BEGINNING
"Yes its happening!" He enjoyed this tingling echo which he felt every 10 minutes now! Fiddling with his plans continuously, he packed his suitcase and waited eagerly for the taxi to arrive. His parents were experiencing utmost joy seeing their son smiling like never before. Acknowledging the happiness, he stood up. Went and hugged his mom and said, "Maa, thank you for this." And he heard the horn. Retaining the giddiness, he hugged everyone and almost ran down the stairs and seated himself in the car. This was the beginning of the journey.

All the way to the station he had postulated. About this step of his. Just for her. Just for both of them. After 1.5 years this was happening! And that too like this! He stepped at Platform No. 1 of New Delhi Railway Station. The usual paranoia of the place failed to disengage him from his giddiness. Monday night was surely a busy day at the station. A push here and a pull there..everything was perfect. The same lady clad in a green suit, was at the enquiry. He knew her. She waived at him and expressed her wish to talk to he. He managed his way in the cubicle and sat besides her, and she came up with her usual question, "Ab Kahaan?"

Him: "Bangalore".

Her: "Firse?"

Him: "Haanji aunty, but picchli 4 baar ki tarah, is baar exam denen nahi jaa raha!"

Her: "Then for what?"

Him: "Arre nothing, just to meet a friend. Summer break in college so planned this."

Her: "Ok!"

And someone demanded her to do her job and she got busy. She didnt know which friend. She could even guess an ounce of excitement that he posessed at that instance. He left and bought himself a Sprite and waited at the bench. And in 15 mins, at around 8.45 pm he could hear the shunting of the train. He boarded it and searched for his berth. He wished for good company. And seeing a beautiful girl right in front of him, his wish was granted..like it had been for the past 3 months of his life! 36 hours of journey awaited him. Tucking his suitcase under the seat, and covering himself in is warm blanket, he made himself comfortable. The train moved in the typical suddenness. A suddenness that somehow complemented the darkness out of the window. And the chilly cold inside the A/C compartment. The sound of Nickelback greeted his ears as he put the headphones on. With cute kids playing around, and this beautiful girl buried consciously in her Robin Cook novel, he felt it. Its going to be just about perfect. Like The Beginning, the journey was surely going to be one of his best...


PS: I write here too.

Rendezvous 2009

Dedicated to all those who are incomplete this new year...being my last post this year, I wanted to concentrate my attention to those who are less fortunate and are missing someone.

He was well aware of this in his subconscious. He knew this was going to turn out like this. And he was certain; it wasn’t going to be good. The icy wind of the last night of December 2008 slapped his dry cheeks while he stood at the rooftop. Alone, in barely a matted black tee, and thin carbon black jeans, and a pair of slippers, he leaned on the wall. The chill was biting him to the bones, making him shiver, or for that matter shudder. But he just wanted to be there. Unaccompanied. Leaning to the extent of touching his forehead on the wall strip, he saw the fracture on the wall. Between his palms. It had an incessant fragrance coming out of it. It was pleasant. A smirk was all which he could manage at that agonizing moment. And then, the agony led to a drop, expanding in the crevice, filling it to the top.

Never did he want it to happen this way. In fact, he never wanted it to happen in the first place! Less than 24 hours and the world will transcend in a new set of 12 speedy months. Celebrations, happiness, joy and glee, and a whole lot of delightful emotions would be there in every psyche on this earth. He desired to be a part of them. But he knew it was unlikely. He may reflect it through his face and gestures, but truth would nibble him...each and every moment, scraping his inside to make it a void. He just couldn’t be elated this New Year. No matter how much he tried. He knew it. This New Year would be an encounter with his own soul to keep it from scattering into fragments.

“...chand lamhaat ke vaaste hi sahi, muskura kar mili thi mujhe zindagi...” He heard the song being played at a distance of few hundred metres and slammed his cold frozen palm on the wall strip. Yet another instance when Simar (name changed) was dragged back in the beautiful past he spent with her by the deeds of the humanity (here, playing the song). It was a dismal situation for a guy who was considered the charm symbol...and now, who had malformed in sheer silence.

It had been 3months when he was left in a situation where zillion questions were incorporated in him and he had answers to none of them. Where every step he took reminded him of the bliss of time that they spent together in the past 2 years. Where he was left alone to face the brutality of the New Year. Where every sighting, whether it be a baby, a flower, a torn parchment, his own hand, a song, a statement, a joke, a breath, a touch, or even a damn stroke of wind would remind him of the beautiful time they spent together! He glanced towards the sky and it fell on a group of stars they talked about once!!!! Every damn thing around him would make him recall his commitment and the beautiful relationship that they shared. Her damn voice would resonate through his ear drums to his body which made him feel like getting pierced by a million knives all over him. He tried to contact her after it happened, and all that he was gifted with was, “Why don’t you understand? I just DONT WANT it now! You cant see me happy can you?” That excruciating moment was embedded in his deep inside forever. Considering the fact that for their happiness, for the relation, he travelled 4000 miles just to meet her, he never imagined that he would be slapped with these statements ever till he was breathing. He knew his slip-ups too. He knew where he was wrong. He knew where the loopholes were created by him. He had apologised. Not once but trillion times. A promise was made by Simar’s heart that everything would revolutionize. It wasn’t that it was one sided mistakes. Both of them were involved. He had promised her things would change. But all the promises fell on deaf ears.

It wasn’t what Simar wanted. He still cared. He still wanted it back. He still wanted to make her realise that she ended something which was supposedly eternal! He still had not forgotten her. And their love. He wanted it all back and a fresh start. He wanted her to talk about it! He wanted to discuss it out. He wanted to just talk to her! He had restrained himself from doing so after she asked for her “happiness” in his non interference. He wanted her to realise how insane a step she took. How both of their lives were parallel and in need of each other. He wanted a lot to happen! He wanted somebody to do something for them, to suggest him, anything that would even hope to work. His desperateness was trapped inside his heart like a man tied to the earth trying to escape a meteor about to fall bang on his forehead........

The nail came off. It was 2:50 am from 11pm. Sitting on the cemented stairs, he had been draining off his thoughts, his frustration, his agony through the nail underneath the cold cemented surface Simar had more pain inside him than on his bleeding fingers. Through the foggy Delhi night, he could read out, though minimally, a big banner of “Happy New Year 2009” being transported to somewhere through a loader. Another pang of crucifying grief smeared all over him. His eyes accompanied the banner till it vanished in the fog. He rose and decided that he’s gonna keep everything inside. And, atleast for the outside world, be the same Simar who is known for his charm, his strength, his enchanting personality and his respect for his parents. Parents who took care of him as a child diagnosed with severe PPRP in his left limb and cast him so perfectly that he became an inspiration for others.

Limping down the stairs he thought it wasn’t less commitment from any side. In fact he knew she loved him more than anything. But what she did because of her childish brains had cost him LOVE. He approached the roof door, and before closing it down behind him, closed his eyes, wished her a very happy new year and just murmured, “As usual, bless you...”

PS: Wish all you guys a really happy and prosperous 2009. May all u guys accomplish ur dreams......have fun ppl....chao.

The Diwali of 2008: A Chapter embossed in the subconscious...

Sitting at the drivers seat, my eyes land upon the lights decorating my house. I put the reverse gear and decide to leave. I look again. This time I stop and keep staring through the depth of each bulb hanging up there. My tears turn, blue,red,yellow,green,violet...absorbing every colour my eye lands upon. The setting sun transcends its light all over the streets and makes an impeccable impact on my memory reservoir. Diwali 2008..something is different. In fact, a lot has changed.

Last year too I sat in the drivers seat and was about to leave. I looked at the lights. The tan of the setting sun was similar, if not same, and as I put the reverse gear, my phone vibrated with its unique style. I pulled it out of my pocket, with utmost frenzy, and there was the call...it was you. I smiled and picked. The voice is still crystal clear in my mind. The face I carried while driving afterwards was easily readable by anyone walking on the roads. I had a constant smile planted on my face. I reached my destination and put you on a hold(some services are free, so it was not an issue...like hanging up and calling again....). I took out the red and blue packets of sweets and slid it under the door of the relatives place. An act, for which I had to bear a long torturous "words of wisdom"  from my parents, but never thought of it at that time, as some free services were going to waste...an excuse to hearts desperateness to talk to you. I jumped back on the seat, put the first gear, and reached back to my place. The lights were shining even more as dusk had faded away into darkness and the essence of the Diwalis festive spirits had taken over.

Still gazing at those bulbs, I notice that the dusk has already faded into the darkness. But my phone hasnt rung. And i know it wont. Its 2008. I reach my relatives place, and instead of sliding down the gifts, I knock. And sit inside. Though not at all interested in talking elderly stuff, I sit amongst 3 elders and try to give them company. Actually, try to kill my time. My mind constantly going through the hurdles of expectations of a call, I again realise...its 2008. It wont happen. Losing hope once again, I manage to avoid those 3 faces and leave. Heads down at the steering wheel, I try to analyse, once again. What went wrong? Why did you do this? Every question, brings an excruciating pain with it, which tears apart a zillion neurons in my brain. I reach back at my place, my mind forcing me to look at the lights, but I avoid. Sometimes its too tough to compromise with life. 

Seeing my mother gather the accesories for the upcoming puja, I change to a traditional look and sit down in the small yet elegant mandir. The whole family present, my father starts with the puja. The typical sandalistic aroma of the "dhoop" engulfs each of us sitting there. ESPECIALLY ME. My mind suddenly appears as a kaleidioscope of the various moments spent with you. And of one major question, as to WHY? Why did you do this?  Why are you making two souls suffer? I try an idea...asking God. When someone is just stranded theres no option left, other than GOD. So with all my zest, I try to initiate a heavenly conversation. I realise, its not easy. Thoughts of you were the ones boggling my mind. GO AWAY! GO AWAY!! I clenched my fist and shouted these words silently inside me.

I started the conversation with God. I put all the questions right on table. He never answered. I tried. All in vain. It felt like the last hope going down the drain. It made me weak. Actually. 

Taking a heavy deep breath, while concentrating simultaneously at my fathers instructions, to touch the "thali" with the right  hand, I tried once again. I felt some response, but could not decipher it. That last hope got reborn. Though not too fruitful, atleast there was a satisfaction that I have something to hang on. Still.

Leaning on the smooth iron railing of my balcony, I observe a bunch of small kids, jostling with a pack of crackers in a corner of the street. Everyone of them dressed in the best and the loveliest of outfits which their families purchased for them on this festive ocassion. They are happy and celebrating diwali. Though maybe not even knowing what is the history and why Diwali is celebrated, they are celebrating. Maybe because they do have a reason. Why am I not celebrating? Even after posessing the knowledge of the history behind celbrating Diwali? Because I dont have you.

Because we dont have each other.

Because theres no point in celebrating a loss, which i know is common to you and me, though presently you might be in an illusive world of freedom and enjoyment.

Because maybe the lights are the same, but last year they soothed the eye with their tinkle..in 2008, they tease the eye with the remains of the memories.

How I wish I could be with you this Diwali, to tell you that whatever you are doing is simply obnoxious! Insanity prevails your mind at this time and you are murdering the essence of a beautiful plant which we watered together!!

How can you not remember the good times!?

How can you not feel the specialness now!?

What in the world has conquered your heart and mind so bloody drastically that every moment, every step of ours together, my tears, every thing we shared,  the first touch, meeting after a complete long year...............that every thing is clouded now?? 

How are you unable to feel the Diwali of last year? How are you unable to feel my sadness this Diwali? Are you not lonely like I am? Don't you feel incomplete like I do?

Lost in the canopy of these questions, and struggling to get out of this forest of uncertainities and incompleteness grown by you, I still wish you -A Very Happy and Love filled Diwali...DIWALI 2008.