Random Thoughts

Jyoti’s been telling me since ages to read Paulo Coelho. She says my style of writing is like his.

I am flattered, yet I never felt like picking up one from the stacks. At most I would pass by those Paulo Coelho novels on the Landmark stacks and reach out for one of them, and then decide against it. Honestly the covers never appealed to me. The sound of Alchemist(thats how its spelled I guess) is still repelling. Feels like some old dark, depressed story of some forlorn years...

And if I write like him then definitely his books would be depressing.

All I have scribbled so far, with the intention of turning them into a biography one day (don’t know who would bother to read them), are about heart-breaks and lost love....

I guess all love stories are the same be it a happy ending one or a sad one.
There is a boy, there is a girl, there is love, there is magic in the moments they spend together and then there is separation and heart-breaks. Else there is a happy wedding and then...

And then who wants to know what follows...

Ok, now this is about yesterday. The 26^th of August ’09.

Waiting for sis to finish her meeting, I walked in to Landmark, thinking to myself that as usual I’d either pick up a Tin Tin or an Asterix and settle down in one corner. I ruled out Calvin and Hobbes because I didn’t want to imagine and smile at Calvin's imagination (they otherwise feel authentic and nice though, and make me laugh).

And then I could not find those stacks...they re-shuffled the entire display. That’s how Besides the river Piedra I sat down and wept, happened.

The title was, sort of, captivating (because it was a sentence, unlike Alchemist) and I turned the page and read the same sentence again... hmmm not bad... then read the whole prologue and then walked to the billing counter and bought it.... I thought to myself that I need to record this before I start reading the book. So here I am writing after a long long time, recording a historic moment in my life

Beside the river Piedra I sat down and wept....

PS: Its the 3rd of Sept today and there are 2 more hours until tomorrow.... I have'nt had the time to touch the book... its quietly adorning our living room racks. Hopefully this weekend I'll have sometime to read... and thats called wishful thinking...

Looks like its been 36 weeks.... 36 weeks since I have been here.

And how these weeks passed?

I have no clue.

Seems like it was the New Year’s Day only yesterday.

Life’s been busy - celebrating Christmas at home after 4 years, heartbreak coz of having to return to my life here, meeting targets, dealing sensitively with clients, subduing anger that almost made me feel like beating the life out of this client or that over and over again, squeezing out of impossible situations and bitching about creepy creatures....

And time simply flew.

The other day I dreamt and on impulse I keyed in a message just in time to catch him leave. Yeah just to catch him leave. Feels like I am living on the edge. Old fears seems to haunt sometimes. What can I possibly do? I am just a by-stander.

I realized last evening how difficult it is to write about someone, when there is no passion…. The writers muse as they put it…. He is no muse. He is a real guy in flesh and blood and there is nothing extra ordinary about him. He is just another guy. And to put into words what he is to me is not easy….

There actually is nothing much to say. Yet I choose to write about him. Maybe there’s some kind of magic happening here or maybe not.

We simply met because he was there and I was there at the same place, the same time. Were we destined to meet? A difficult question. I simply don’t know. And never really pondered over it because it never crossed my mind to think if we were destined to meet and if there was any purpose to meeting him at all.

He was just there and that’s all. Or was it?

Silent and calm. His smile would melt your heart. For once it set me thinking if he was this tender person who would fall apart with a single chaff of wind…

I was wrong.

He withstood the storm and came out of it scathed yet strong.

The lady chose to simply walk out on him. Maybe because he was too boring for her. Maybe too predictable. He was too good to be true – always loyal, ever caring. And he never stopped loving either.

He waited for her a long time. And then he realized that she was no longer with him but with another man. And he was left with no choice. So he walked away… Dreams shattered. Confidence rocked. Heart broken! It took him a lot of strength to walk straight. He shut himself in and starved for a few days. But that was not how his life was meant to be. Maybe he would turn back one day and look at her but for now he had to return home and gather his life from where he left it…

Through those strange nights of staying awake and speaking with faceless people, he would be there silently watching, unaffected by the harsh words and the swearing and the ‘kick some asses’ flying around.
He took challenges to his stride. All tough situations were dealt with finesse. I use this word because no other word so perfectly describes the way he spoke his way out of difficult situation and made the other person agree with him.

He was this pensive man who seemed so deep in thoughts most of the time. A philosopher maybe.

After a few cordial hi’s and bye’s and some smiling at each other when our paths crossed, he finally decided to pay me a visit. It was the day I first tried my hand at cooking biryani, some four years ago. I was there busily trying to get the recipe right and put in the correct amount of ingredients when he knocked… I was more shocked than surprised. Reason – I least expected him to come knocking at my door. He sat there silently. There was very less to talk about. And I am sure I amused him with my non-stop blabbering and cooking at the same time… and I am sure I shocked him even more when I asked him to taste whatever was the outcome of the elaborate recipe. Yet he ate it all without complaining and even appreciated the food, with an amused smile though… and the smile said it all…

He was the man who tasted my first ever biryani.

It was a heart to heart talk at the end of it all….
After a bruised heart and a long silence I finally found a kind soul to listen to me. I must point out though, that he usually fell asleep at the other end of the phone…

Lets hang up and catch some sleep – I’d say and he would want to talk some more… and in the middle of some story he would go mute. He made it a point to either profusely apologize the next night or deny completely that he ever slept off on the phone…

I gradually discovered that it was easy to tease him and make him blush. His ears would turn red and he would smile a suppressed smile. I also discovered that he was a man with emotions as well, not as pensive…but composed all the time…

I feel calm when his thoughts cross my heart. He is the kind of man who would silently listen and quietly understand. Even when he differs, he agrees to differ!

He is the perfect guy to fall in love with, get married to and settle down to a normal eventless life and rest assured that he’d be there forever taking care and loving you.

I do not know how to end this story… or is it a story at all? Some reminiscence…a peek into the past… a story that would continue for sometime…for as long as we continue saying hi and sharing some tits bits of life…

I keep complaining that A has no sense of responsibility. He does not have the decency to keep promises. He is not honest. He shrugs off duties assigned to him like dust. Most of all he'd say he'd be there and he would NEVER be there. There'd be more important things to attend to... more important commitments...

He is the typical city guy.

Life in the city is so cluttered and cramped. 24 hours aint enough to eat, drink, smoke, work, complain, bitch and have multiple affairs.
As soon as its time to hit the bed, its time to wake up again... Sigh!!!
And amongst all these very important, cant-miss-the-deadline, cant-stop-to-take-a-breath thingies, we forget to retrospect on our lives.
Friends and foes are placed on the same platform. As life goes on people become islands.. and when its time to slow down and give way to the next generation, they are left all alone, confused. They see a stranger in the mirror.

There are innumerable number of A's here in the city where i live. The 'I am the dude' A, the 'know it all' A, the 'over confident' A, the 'i-lie-but-thats-diplomacy' A etc etc. What goes on behind their over confident mask is what i could never conclude.

Of late I have realised that its so easy to complain and judge , to be a by-stander and comment on what other people do and say.

And yesterday with some shock I realised that I have become one of the A's.

She told me he was upset. And why? Because I missed out on being honest. I failed to see that they are friends and I could be myself. They would not mind and they would never turn their backs on me.

I have become indecisive. I find it hard to utter the truth. And most of all I have become diplomatic even with friends!!!

This scares me. I guess am walking the 'city' direction. I am walking the wrong path.

I want to retain my sanity. I want to face myself in the mirror each morning, recognise the person in there and smile.

Hence a silent promise...

hazel eyes,
golden curls,
tinkering voice..
laugh like she will never cease.

she looks,
you melt.
love or compassion?
its all an utter confusion.

come closer.
she looks,
and looks through you.
she smiles and smiles to herself.

tears.
forlorn look.
her eyes 'glitter'...
with thousands of stories untold..

played.
took pleasure.
trodded forbidden zones,
discovered hidden treasures.

freedom new-found.
friends likewise
at youth
played its own music divine.

she thinks.
she regrets?
young she was,
as she is not today.

life that was,
life that is now.
time lost
in between lust and true love .

she cries
yet she laughs.
for the days that are left,
sunlight she tries to gather.

careless words,
suppressed smiles,
loads of stories
over coffee and smokes.

he speaks,
she speaks,
all speak
together a mindless banter.

picture perfect union;
hugs, kisses and loving pats..
they settle down,
sink to their comfort zones.

friends - they are.
in their own words,
understand each other
seemingly so well.

fading smiles,
animated talks;
a closer look..
they are but putting up a mask.

lost in their own oblivion;
each to his own.
'my problem is bigger than yours.'
'yours is nothing but a small cross.'

life.
nothing less.
in the city,
of lost angels.

Current Location: cafe coffee day
Current Mood: lonely

It was the 5th of Sept and she was there, silently standing. A pretty crown sitting on her head and a flowing cream dress… she was the cute princess for the day… her crown was as small as her head. Her dress as pretty as her pink cheeks (dabbed with pink lipstick and some face powder). She looked at the mirror once, but she could not recognize the person staring back at her from the other side.… so she simply stood there waiting and thinking. She didn’t know how to react or feel…. Maybe she was a little dumb. She looked around for friends but no one was around. Even her prince was not around. Maybe he was too shy to talk to her now. He seemed to disappear right when she turned to speak with him.

They were the prince and the princess.

She savored the attention she got.

She was taken care of and dressed for the occasion. Someone put on the makeup for her and chose the best crown. Her mom stitched the pretty flowing dress which fitted her so well. Someone suggested that her hair be left open and so it was.

Ma’am Pal peeped out of the door every now and then to make sure that she didn’t disappear down the corridor.

Its so difficult to keep the kids in one place.

The rehearsals were a chaos yet it was fun.

She was scared when she first stood there with all her classmates. Ma’am Pal would be selecting the actors for her play. She never acted or even went on stage.

When she was in the lower standard she longed to dance that Malayalam dance her class teacher had taught the other girls. She was not chosen because she had two left feet. She could not understand the song and neither could she comprehend when she should turn and when she should spread her arms. She went for the dance rehearsal once and she almost fell on the dancer next to her….

So she had to feel happy sitting with the audience and watching her pretty friends perform.

Everyone applauded when they finally bowed after the dance…

And then the year ended. They all moved on to higher class and life fell back to the normal pace.

Time rolled on and it was time again to rehearse for the next teacher’s day. It was a big event in school and everyone looked forward to it.

The last two hours would be off for all…. for some it would be rehearsals for the event and for some it would be simple break from classes and they could all go to the play grounds and do whatever suited them. The teachers would be busy teaching some song or dance or drama inside closed doors. Everyone sternly guarded, whatever they were supposed to present onstage. It was a big secret. It would be a surprise for the rest of the school. Curious ones would try peeping in to find out what was cooking.

It was fun.

She stood there silently with her head bowed because she still was not sure how her friends could talk her into doing this. She didn’t want to audition for the dance drama at all, because she knew she would not be chosen and it was a sad feeling to be left out or rejected. And then before she knew it she was the princess…. She was not exactly excited because she was the only girl from her class, the rest were all those rowdy back benchers who created havoc in class.

And she detested them…

Amongst them were a few who would be her best friends till she left school.

Later she discovered that they were not real rowdies after all. They just liked to have fun unlike the nerds who sat in the front benches. She was one of the front benchers and she thought she was cool and good. Which she was, of course!!

Her classmates thought she was too innocent for her age. She was all of nine. And her classmates? They were of the same age of course. But they were ‘better exposed’, in their own words. They thought she was a book worm because she would barely speak. She would do all her homework on time and answer all the questions the teachers asked. And she had a set of good friends, all like her.

But they didn’t know what really went behind the prompt answers and the well done homework.

There was her mom sitting at home making her do all the hard work. 

And she had a good time with the rowdies. Because they had fun. They would sit together and yap in between the rehearsals.

They were all trees.  They would be dressed up as trees that grow around the princess as she falls into a deep slumber for 100 years.

And then the prince would come and cut down the trees to discover a lovely princess asleep among the bushes.

The prince was this boy in class who sat next to her. They forever fought for pencils and erasers and books. They sometimes shared a text book because either she or he would forget to look up the class routine properly and put the text book into the school bag. Their note books would sometimes get exchanged and her mom would have to particularly tell her to get her notebook and not the prince’s.

She almost jumped out of her skin when someone tugged at her dress.

It was time for the final act…. Ma’am Pal hurried her to the stage….and there she was facing a crowd of curious faces. They were all waiting for her to say something and she stood there stiff and tongue tied……thankfully she had no dialogues to deliver.

It was a short and nice dance drama that had no dialogues, only some background singing.

That was the part she liked most because she knew she would be mortally scared to deliver the ‘princess like’ dialogues.

Her uncle told her stories about how actors would forget their dialogues onstage and some prompter would prompt them the dialogues from backstage. She always wondered how one could calmly listen to the prompter who stood way out of ear shot, behind the stage, and yet deliver all the dialogues in time. He also told her stories of the dialogue goof ups on stage.

Ma’am Pal was furiously waving at her from the other end behind the curtain, only when the girls and the boys started singing did she realize that she had to walk the stage. She was the princess. The sleeping beauty. She was supposed to look elegant and nice.

But she remembered nothing, she just shyly walked……………..

There was a lovely princess-
Who lived in her high tower.

…….holding her dress on the sides like the fairy tale princesses do when they walk or run….

And then came a wicked witch-
who poked at her finger with a needle

She ran to the corner looking scared and the witch pulled her hand and poked one of her fingers with the needle….

She fell to a deep slumber…

The princess fell asleep- 
and slept for a hundred years

Her friends stood around her, covering her completely. They were in their funny tree attires but she was too scared to open her eyes. She slept there waiting for the prince……….

This was the moment everyone was waiting for….

And then came a handsome Prince-
He kissed the princess on her cheek.

And then the prince kissed the princess.

There was a loud applause.….

The princess awoke-
She saw the prince and fell in love

And there was a lovely wedding-
they lived happily ever after…………………..

As the curtain fell the prince and the princess ran out of opposite exits from the stage.

Life was never the same again. They suddenly grew up. They sat besides each other in class but could barely turn to talk to each other without the rest of the class turning to see if he was going to kiss her again 

It used to be a hurried walk.

Some pep talk, some cursing and swearing, a few stories and a lot of arguments. The slight drizzle added to the romance (?).

Mind walking a little closer. We would avoid getting wet…. You don’t mind walking under the same umbrella with me, do you? – She said in the same breath.

There was a kind of stunned silence. And then…

That dialogue should have been mine. You are a girl. You should be the one feeling uncomfortable walking under the same umbrella with me.

She simply laughed at him

There was nothing common between the two of them.

She was innocent, simple, almost ugly and she had a weird sense of style (she used to wear her dad’s old trousers, for God’s sake).

He was the happening guy in town - handsome, smart, intelligent and all the positive adjectives that one could think of.

He had high goals.

She did not think about the future. She had no aim in life. - Will see what happens – was her attitude.

He was the topper in class.

She hated studying. She barely scraped through her exams.

Every day was the same.

They quarreled each morning because he would always be late.

Shoelace untied, pen between his teeth and notebooks under his arm. And just as he sees her, he would forget all about his pen and notebooks and the untied shoelace…

Hi

…….and everything would be on the ground, including him.

Can’t you be early for once?

And no, we will not take a cab; we will walk all the way like we always do…

And she would help him pick up whatever fell while he would do his shoelace with a half smile on his face.

And then the hurried walk that was always so full of arguments…….

Life was good.

She felt a new found freedom.

It took her sometime to get used to life in a hostel. Everything sucked in the beginning – the food, the girls, the room and most of all, the common toilet. She used to miss home every single second. This went on for a couple of months……………………………. And then there were new friends, there was this realization of the new found freedom.

She was as happy as she could be.

It was fun to bunk classes and go for a quick bite in the canteen. It was even more fun to go watch a Sharukh Khan movie sneaking out of college, avoiding the ‘scanner’ eyes of the lecturers.

And what topped the list were the day long hikes to the golf links. They carried food from the popular restaurant in town, some snacks and a lot of cold drink….

That supposedly summer morning was almost chilling, with a slight drizzle. She missed the evening tuition the previous day and he missed her. He had a scowl on his face when they met that morning. But she seemed not to notice. She was busy narrating the previous day’s fun.

With rug-sacks full of either food or drinks or a small tape recorder they had set out on foot for the famous golf links. Bystanders watched in wonder at the excited girls and their senseless banters and giggles…. The day was memorable. They danced and ate and drank and clicked all the photographs that could be possibly clicked in a day, even the drizzle could not dampen their spirits. The challenge was to sneak back to the hostel unnoticed. She had a ready excuse in case the warden caught her sneaking in. She had made arrangements- she had taken a gate pass early in the morning for an evening tuition which she obviously missed. Nothing eventful happened after the day; she safely got back to her room without being caught.

He was unusually quiet. Deep in thought, confused.

He liked so many other girls previously and spent interesting time with them. Each one of them simply left after a certain period of time. Either he lost interest on them or they shifted to some other town. Those days it was difficult to keep love alive across towns with just the option of letters and an occasional phone call.

This one was different. She showed little interest in him. Yet she cared in her own small ways. She scolded, yet she waited for him. She checked time and again if he had eaten. She bought him small keep sakes saying it reminded her of him. Despite all these she had this - I care a damn about you - attitude.

She was a little strange because he could never definitely say what was in her heart. He would have to take a chance. Or maybe he just liked her because she was so unpretentious, jovial and simple. But he desperately wanted her to be with him forever. At least that was how he felt for the moment.

He was never sure. He was not sure this time either.

But whatever it was, it was good to walk by her side – arguing, sharing and sometimes quietly watching her walk down the road from a distance.

She had a beaming smile all the time. She could not hide her emotions too well but she had some kind of mask most of the time. The - I care a damn - mask. But she was confused too. Every time some girl mentioned talking to him she would smirk. The green eyed monster surfaced all the time. So she avoided talking about him and tried hard to lend a deaf ear to all the talks about him. After all he was the happening guy in town so it’s natural that girls would talk.

She went on and on about the previous day. But she knew he was not listening..

Everything ok…??

I m actually worried about you. I feel that you are in love.

Whaaa??!!!! What makes you say that?

See I am not sure who you are in love with but I have four people on mind – One is B. You seem to be so fond of him; you talk about him all the time. You meet him in church and go out with him for an occasional lunch and all that. And there is R who is your childhood friend and then there’s J who seems to care for you. The last one on my mind is the most probable one you see….

Ok so who is the last guy I am supposed to be in love with?

Ahem – me……

Aha!!!! Ummmm….ok….I will think about who I am in love with and let you know…

And she hurried away, leaving him to walk all the way back home, feeling butterflies in her stomach. Thousand thoughts running through her mind at the same time. She was amused at the way he put it.

She sometimes saw him from the corner of her eyes, following her at a distance and she pretended not to see.

One day he pretended to be engrossed reading a newspaper. He knew very well that their paths would cross. The fake surprise on his face was amusing. She knew he was there waiting for her…

He bought her a cassette of her favorite songs. Reason –

You were haunting me the whole day yesterday…wherever I went I heard that damn song. So thought I might as well buy it and get rid of you haunting me.

The other day he bunked classes to be with her and her childhood friend R. She had asked him the previous day if he could be with them and show them around and his answer was an outright no. He had more important things to do- like attend classes- than to be with her and her childhood friend.

And he was there handsomely dressed. Reason –

I can’t live with you cursing me for not being helpful when you needed me most.

The day that followed is another story altogether.

How much longer could she ignore him? This was the first time she felt the way she did. And she was not sure what it was. She hated being cornered. And he cornered her.

Maybe I’ll go and tell him tomorrow that I love him…or maybe not…

Life was good. She almost danced. It was fun walking under the umbrella when it drizzled…..

Dry thoughts run through my mind as I wait at the signal.

Life has not been smooth and easy. Things sometimes don’t seem right. And life feels like a burden. There is a blade between life and after. And there are scores of unanswered question.

There seems to be no end. There’s only a start to it all.

Nothing seems to matter really. As if life is just passing by and I am a mere spectator. Spectator to life and death, to happiness and tears, to the changing seasons- I am just here sitting by the side, watching and waiting …….

Of late the destination seems to have vanished. I simply hurry to work and then hurry back home and then hurry to bed and then wake up and hurry to wherever I need to go.

Meaningless deeds, meaningless thoughts and meaningless life. Yes that’s what it is.

 As all these thoughts crossed my mind the signal turned green.

Oh what a relief it is when the signal turns green. Time to move on, draw nearer to the destination.

...but someone ahead would always take long enough to start his vehicle so that its time to stop again before even starting to move. and in a split second there would be a riot of honks and shouts and swears.

Like always the signal said red again... another stop at the same signal...

and I swore.

But what was the point!!!

There was no point at all.... except that I was late to wherever I was going.

Is there a purpose at all to what I am doing? What is this life that leads nowhere?

But who cares really….

There was a whole lot of dump in my  inbox and I was expected to go through all the ppts and pdfs and word docs etc etc, to finally decide what was relevant and then make another ppt that would contain –‘not more than 12 slides including ‘Thank you’’ - which should say it all.

Sounds easy – Eh?

The client didn’t even care to delete a brief that was given to a PR agency for an event that never happened….. and I was supposed to finish reading the entire junk and present the 12 slides ppt at 12.00 noon.

would I be able to accomplish my mission impossible?

And at that moment of I-have-to-get-the-job-done determined thought and contemplation, I failed to remember if I locked the door to my apartment. Forgetfulness. Maybe it was the age.

Calling my neighbor for help was the sole intelligent option.

Finding my mobile phone in my large all-in-one bag full of things, I don't remember why I put them in, in the first place, was another huge hurdle.

Just as I triumphantly located my cell phone among all the pens, papers, some unwashed handkerchief, old throw able lip guards and body lotions, combs – which I never find when I am actually looking for it, umbrella and a whole lot of other junks when I was rudely jolted out of my world with the sudden and loud honking, cursing and swearing.

 The signal said green. Time to move on....

Current Location: workstation
Current Music: japs yapping

dark Night,
silent breath...

people sleeping…

memories haunt,

i toss and turn…

there is nowhere to go.

no hug,

no dream ,

no future to plan.

i live for today

is there no tomorrow?

maybe there’s a pot of gold

…….at the end of the rainbow..

There he was standing tall with a half smile on his lips - tanned and barely visible in the dimly lit restaurant. He was ever ready to speak and it seemed so rude to me. I was taught to remain quiet in the presence of elders and keep my opinion to myself.

You can freely express your opinion when you are of age

 And there he was nonchalantly discussing some grown up thing with his dad and mine. And to top it all he was even cracking some jokes.

Outrageous!!!

I was sure mom thought he was a brat - a very spoiled brat.

And I didn’t know whether to detest him or like him.

Thankfully dinner was done with and everyone thought it was time to get back to the hotel and get some sleep…

Tomorrow would be a day of testing for me and him. 
The first interview I’d ever appear. 
We both aspired to be doctors (??) or was it some aim imbibed in me naturally (by my parents). It’s been so long ago – I can’t distinguish the facts. The way I used to feel seems to blur out at some points in my memory… nevertheless some incidents never fail to bring me a smile.

The night was dreamless. I tossed and turned on my bed. It was unfamiliar. A little too soft maybe or was it bouncy?!!? I liked my bed to be firm and keep me on it, not threaten to toss me off at the slightest provocation. The bed seemed very narrow and the heat seemed to seep through it. I was waiting for dawn.

Mom wanted me to put on my best dress and put my best foot forward. She repeatedly told me not to be nervous which made me all the more tense. I could feel drops of sweat on my temples ready to roll down the side of my cheeks. It was the most uncomfortable feeling one could feel. I was wondering whether he was feeling the same.

As I started to walk out of the room I felt my dress weigh a ton, my feet wouldn’t carry me any further. And then I almost laughed......

There’s a bandh today.

No interview. (Yippee!!!!)

Bandh was so abnormally normal in our part of the country. We almost rejoiced each time there was a bandh...... because bandh meant no classes, bandh meant watching TV whenever I wanted to, bandh meant there would be no homework; bandh meant dad would stay home and maybe cook some yummy pork.

But that day I had a mixed feeling about the bandh. Home was only few miles away, yet we were stuck there in that stupid hotel with a tanned-huge-fatso who didn’t even know how to talk to elders. And the most irritating part was he refused to acknowledge my presence. As if I was not there at all.

Mom and dad blissfully decided to chat with his dad and remember the good old days.

They were in the same college. He was mom’s senior. One story led to another and I was there sitting in the corner- amazed at how much mom could talk. Amazed at the fact that mom and dad too were young one day and  played pranks on one another, they also sneaked out for an occasional movie and secret dates…. (!!!!!!)

It all started with the stove that mom brought along just in case there was a bandh. And sure enough there was and the stove came in handy. We had maggie for lunch.

‘Old habits die hard’- he said. And mom smiled.

‘Remember our college days…… we used to cook in our hostel room….’

The afternoon was warm and after a good meal one would definitely feel drowsy. They all went to sleep and I was there wide awake with nothing to do….

Maybe a short walk within the campus will do no harm…

and I walked out of the room.

There he was sitting on the steps munching on something. He smiled at me nervously. That’s when I realized that maybe he was a little shy. Behind the mask of a brat there was some shy person.

And I smiled back at him.

He offered me a centre fresh. Later I would know that he had a whole lot of them inside his pockets.

He was bored too. And in the warm summer afternoon there was nowhere to go.

I sat there beside him.

He spoke of things I never heard before. He wanted to know why I don’t have a boyfriend…..and I was scandalized because I was told that I could have a boyfriend only when I am a grown up lady. I was all of 17 and I could not have a boyfriend yet. It was too early.

But I did not tell him that.

Maybe no one likes me.

Maybe you never gave anyone a chance to tell you how sweet you are.

(Flirt!!!! ☻)

He told me stories about his high school. His fears and his future plans.

He didn’t have any (eh!!)

He believed in living for the moment. He called himself the ‘happy-go-lucky-kinda-guy’. He cracked jokes. And I couldn’t stop laughing.

 And in between there was a centre fresh to ruminate on.

I don’t remember how long we sat there. It was almost dark and mosquitoes started buzzing when we realized that it was time to get going.

That day was special in some strange way. The happy-go-lucky-kinda-guy made it special for me.

I fell in love with him.

 I do not remember for how long I was in love with him. Maybe it was for a day or for a month…… I don’t remember……..

But he stayed in my heart. Pure and innocent, happy with small little things in life, simple dreams, simple thoughts- that’s what he was all about.

Years afterwards I still remember him…….. (whenever someone offers me a centre fresh).

Current Location: At my desk
Current Mood: amused
Current Music: Trance

I would wait every day….

They told me stories. Some long and some short. Some troubled me and some made me smile. Yet they were a part me. I wish I had them. I wish I could hold them. But can we hold time?

Some amateur sketches of hills and trees and birds - trying to show me what he saw. He didn’t know how to express feelings in words….

There was one single straw (of wheat) one day. They had tracked many miles through the wheat fields…. he was so enthralled by them…..

I could see them….

The cards that came now and again assured me that he would be there for me for ages to come…some asserted the fact that he loved me, others were simple expressions which promised us a beautiful life together.

The first one ever was - a bridge across time.

He had it since we met but he told me that it would come to me when the time was right. He foresaw what was to happen.

That was the day when the saga of letters would start.

It was time to say good bye. And there were no words to be said. He stood there in silence- trying hard to stop the tears that welled up in his eyes. He silently placed the envelope in my hands. He did not turn back. He walked on for fear that I would see his tears flowing.

It said something about building bridges across time. It said - he would cross all barriers, cross all seas to come to me. It said - separation is just for the time being. It said - beyond the pain of separation there is a beautiful time that would be ours.

They told me where he went, what he did, who he met, when he danced and when he cried. There were stories about pain and hatred. There were stories about the rivers he crossed and the hills he climbed. The dangerous terrains. The week long stint in the woods with little food to survive, a sleeping bag and some hunting gear.

One day along with a very long letter there was a lovely card which said - I will hold u firmly forever…..

Two people on the rocks, by the seashore. The man holding the woman firmly by her waist.

He was very happy that day. He ran 5 laps in less than 4 minutes. He had told himself that if he deserved me he had to finish those laps in 4 minutes. Small goals, huge happiness. And after the hard days work all he wanted was to sleep. But how could he sleep without telling me….

Each day was a challenge and each day was a new discovery. He discovered his strengths, his endurance, his patience, his love. He discovered life.

.

And I lived with him each day. Lived his dreams. Lived his life.

It’s been years since his letters stopped coming. It’s been years that all I had, burned down to ashes.

Current Location: At my desk
Current Mood: numb
Current Music: Have you ever seen the rain......

-We are lost.

-How can you get lost on these roads?

-Ok now let me figure out where we are , or else we will keep on walking in circles…

-Do u have brains to even think? – we are walking towards golf links. I have walked

  these roads many times

-What?? With whom??

-I have a lot of other friends you see.

And one could visibly see the irritation on his face. He was jealous. He knew he could trust her. Yet he felt a pang in his heart whenever she spoke as if he meant nothing to her.

She loved doing this to him. She loved seeing the colour rising on his cheeks whenever he was angry.She knew she was the only one who could create those waves of emotion in him.

She sheepishly smiled and added

-My college friends. We hiked on those hills last weekend

He could not help but smile…

She always did that to him. He knew , yet he fell into her trap each time…

And he patted on her head.

-You will never change.

They were there. It was the loveliest sight she had seen- open green fields, pine trees, a small stream flowing by, the wooden bridge, the winding roads that lead to nowhere, the sun shining shyly upon them and the cool breeze that touched her softly….Everything ws so perfect.

She had been there before- yet each time it all seemed so new and fresh… and today…. She was there with him… the person who meant the world to her…yet she never told him…

She could see the delight in his eyes.

-Nice

He wasn’t a man of many words. You needed to look into his eyes to understand what goes on within him.

She understood.

Somewhere by the pine trees there was a wooden bench. Perfect for two people. Perfect for a nice romantic picture perfect painting.

Perfect to sit and grow old with him.

They sat there in silence- oblivious of the surroundings. The stream trickled and flowed and time stood still……

Current Location: at work
Current Mood: creative

‘We will name her Lyna’

‘No Leah’

‘What’s wrong with Lyna? It’s a good name. I love the name and your sister is also called Lyna.’

‘And that’s precisely why we will not call her Lyna’….

And the sun sets beautifully behind the hills. Two people arguing over names of their unborn daughter….. (Two people so much in love???!!!??). And they walk on. She needs to reach her hostel before dusk. He needs to be there at his aunts’ before dinner… so they walk as fast as their legs can carry them while constantly arguing over this and that…

And then its time to bid farewell for the day…

‘When do we meet again?’

‘Sunday, early morning. That’s when I can go out for a days outing. Got to take prior permission from my warden’

‘Why is this gate the limit?’

They both smile and turn to go their own ways… dreaming of a beautiful future together.

They have a lot to overcome.

For instance the exams-finishing exams would be a step towards freedom

and then their parents- that’s a huge risk….

What if they say no?

Life is beautiful despite the huge-small obstacles. Love can overcome all barriers….

When did she first meet him? When did she start loving him? She does not remember. She does not care. Each day is an eager wait to meet and to talk.

Life is a pleasant surprise when there’s love in the air.

There’s love is every small thing they do.

The guava they share on their walks, getting lost trying to find their way to the golf link, sharing an umbrella and getting drenched, simply chatting and losing track of time.

They discovered new love every single day.

But there’s someone somewhere who is always unhappy when there’s something perfect happening. His mind wiggles and tosses and turns.

 ‘How can someone be so happy?!!!??!!

There’s something that needs to be done. They cannot get away being so happy.’

And he gets this evil idea. He sends the angel of hate (if there is cupid-the angel of love, there has to be some anti-love angel. The angel of hate, eh!!! They say there exists and anti-self of every single living thing on earth…that’s what I heard)….

So the angel of hate comes down and creeps into their life…

Each passing day love simply faded.

Life in its real form appeared. What had been was all an illusion.

Realities overshadowed dreams.

Excuses became more and more powerful…..

And they forgot to live. They remembered only to exist…….in their own little cocoons.

Current Location: workplace
Current Mood: cold

He - thin and lanky and a voice barely audible, the shy little boy sitting all by himself, scribbling now and then on the pages of his note book. Almost invisible.... people would not take notice of him. He seldom spoke with anyone.

His eyes were fixed on her. Why does she not smile? Why do her eyes seem so desperate?

She- lost in her own thoughts to have noticed anyone around her... Her life - in a mess. She tried to end her life. Slit her wrist at many places, took some pills then got scared of death. Maybe death was not a good option. Maybe death is darker than her life. Maybe living would be a better option. She was confused. The sleepless nights added to her agony. Sleep eluded her and the only thought that crowded her mind was death....

She sat there in the class dazed. She barely listened to what was being taught. Sometimes she nodded as if she understood. Most of the time she wondered why…. She could not figure out why her life was going so wrong. Why was there this sudden emptiness? Life seemed unfair. She had a lot of questions unanswered….. she felt as if her mind would burst someday with all the questions… and the silence…

And she saw him, intently looking at her. He carelessly showed her his notebook….scribbled in barely legible hands were some of his poems. His poems?? Or were they some dumb love-forwards that we keep on getting on our mobile phones. Carelessly written dumb messages…

And she smiled.

He insisted that she go to church the next Sunday. He waited for her at the bus stand. Keeping his fingers crossed that she’d come. And she came. He must have smiled an excited smile because he saw a kind of amusement in her eyes…

He dropped her back to the bus stand. His mind was in turmoil- do I tell her now?- and he did.

She simply stared at him.

Thousand thoughts running through her mind…. she simply turned and walked away…

Current Location: workstation
Current Mood: contemplative

Tall with a slight hunch. 
Dimpled smile that’s rare. 
Burdened shoulders, sag.

He is there silently sitting in the corner - lost in thoughts, unaware of the going ons around him. There is a sadness that clouds his mischievous smile. A free man yet so burdened. 
I do not know why or how he manages to steal those few moments of my life; makes me sit back and wonder. I cannot help hating him with all my heart. Yet he is so noble and true.
What’s in his heart, I wonder.

When will the clouds part?

When will that streak of sunlight brighten his face?

Why does he have to brood when he has nothing to lose?
But there he is, trying to avoid all eyes.
"I should have been invisible", screams his silence. 
Slouched to the point of disappearing into his knees...
Is there a story? Or is it just a spark of imagination???
Time seems to have stopped for him. He is at the point of no return. He has been trapped, put into an unseen cage. No escape. Yet he feels responsible for those around him, those that love him, those that dot on him.

Those that look up to him for love.

“Am I capable of giving them all the love?” he wonders….

And more importantly does he love them? He does not realize the gravity of the situation. He sees partly. He sees only himself in the mirror of life.

And life goes on…..

The story does not end here. These kinds of stories have no ending.

And he is there sitting in his corner, lost in thoughts, unaware of the going ons around him….pondering over the life he has lived and the life that is to be……….

Current Location: work
Current Mood: confused

standing there like a fool waiting for someone to turn up. and then you turn around to find that you are there standing all alone in a deserted street. like a fool you try to figure out where you are and where you can go from here. theres no answer. you are lost and there is a strange fear that no one would find you. you will die there all alone. not even you yourself can hear your own voice. you want to scream and your voice fails you. you want to run but your feet won't budge.  a minute seems like infinity.you are stuck there forever.

who am i waiting for? will there be an end to this wait or will i live life in a rewind. cant seem to walk forward. however fast i walk i end up in the same place i started. and then there are questions and more questions. there is fear. there is faith. there is anger. there is forgiveness. but there are no answers. i say that i seek no answers now. that i have crossed that phase of life. theres nothing left there. yet i find myself there time and again. and i try to gather what i lost. but its damaged beyond recognition. I can't find what i lost. its lost forever. yet there is this senseless hope that it will come back to me. 

then again there is a life that does not wait. time is slipping by. and i am slipping along.................into oblivion.  
and then theres me. the great 'me' , that does not die... that goes on and on. on and on about things insignificant. i live , i do not die. i am 'me'. there are two sides and this is the flip side. 

Current Location: ???????????????
Current Mood: crushed

Theres always something that remains even when the person is gone... gone forever.
Traces of smile......voices... the dampness in the air.
I do not know where i m going... going on.....without anyone walking beside me. It feels lonesome sometimes.. yet i have to carry on... with the burden of the past... no one to share, no one to speak with.  Theres a smile thats lost somewhere...
And then there are the hills...
Hills that seem to haunt.. faces from the past...those laughter... the feeling of weightlessness. .. the innocent touch.. and that place that was very much ours....the endless green field, those walks.. the silence that spoke thousands of unspoken emotions...
was it a trick that life played with me.. why did those days have to vanish without any meaning?? Why m Ieft only with memories to cling on to?? Is there a better way to live?? To fold and keep those memories safe somewhere??
I turn my back sometimes to the truth that haunts.... 
yet somewhere within...that part of me never stopped loving...
something has died within... 

Current Location: My desk
Current Mood: lonely
Current Music: the chirping of the birds

he was gone. 
helplessly stood there watching him walk away....
he was not mine...
never was...

I was chasing an illusion...
of thoughts...
I dreamt...
and then he was gone forever..

a walk down the memory lane
'where r we going??'
'I m kidnappin you today.... '
and the never ending walk...

those silent smiles.... 
simple gestures ...   
earnest love..
dreams!!!!

and tears form in my eyes...
never to flow....
no fear of losing...
no hope...

life has'nt stopped...
times move on
love lost...
goodbye love.......

Current Location: at mt desk
Current Mood: calm
Current Music: silence of thoughts

A small town girl...life has been full of learning and fun, a little bi of sadness and a lot of happiness.
Mom and dad named me 'Valentina' and for years I could not identify with the name. I wanted some Indian name-Asha, Simran... a name that would go with my very Indian face.. a name I could identify with.
Today I smile when I look back at my distress...
Like any other normal girl I had my fair share of crushes and heartaches. i remember when i was in my 4th standard, I fell head over heels in love with the boy who sat next to me in class. How I used to blushed even when he just walked by!!
Those are the days that never fail to bring me a smile.
I grew up to be a very shy child.I hardly made friends, though I had a handful of very close friends.....
Bangalore was the turning point of my life....
Away from home away from the warmth of love and family- that was the time i saw the world in a different light. I realised that life isn't all about love, happiness, trust and good people. I realised that life is not the beautiful picture, my parents painted for me. It is full of deceit, betrayal, vengeance mixed with love, trust and a flicker of faith in the supreme being.
There were days when life seemed so dark and gloomy that i felt like running back home- hide behind those strong walls of love and protection that dad built for me. Yet somewhere deep down I knew that running away is not the answer... So I still hold on....

Current Location: my room
Current Mood: blank
Current Music: nothingness