"What day is it? And in what month?
This clock never seemed so alive
I can't keep up and I can't back down
I've been losing so much time
'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do
Nothing to lose
And it's you and me and all other people
And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you
- Life house (You & Me)"
“This song, reminded a part of my life… and I am sure we all have shared plenty of such in ours. Sometimes music… novel or just a walk reminds you of an eternity… My pick… read it as you listen to the song : )“
Long back somebody told me over a phone call that he would want to meet me on a railway station. I thought that was crazy… Who would want to meet someone at a crazy railway platform where all probably you see are busy people running off and that too after 6 years!
But I did go, I went to meet him after so many years, after all my agitations and heartburn were at rest ... I went and sat in the bustling platform no 3 of a busy metro station and I waited... I waited
Long time…
----------
I waited to see a mom fidgeting her palms, sitting over a luggage for two and with every passing minute checking her wrist watch... Checking if the moments are passing by…
I waited to see two kids, holding hands and waiting alone at the far end of the platform with a pair of hollow eyes… watching every old man.. Shrugging at passers by offering them chocolates…
I waited to see, a girl of 30 wearing a deep neck thin blouse with dark red lipstick, checking out a pocket mirror and petite she sat cross with her trousered legs… and I wondered how easily all those walking around would label anything flamboyant with sleaze when I saw how men watched her…. Her anxious eyes were roaming with a bubbly with all the men who walked across with sky bags… some smiled … some winked…
I waited… to watch an old guy with his walking stick…almost leaning over the pillar and smoking a Marlboro… the chai wala behind ran up to offer him a tea… and with a bunch of newsletters under his arm… I saw the void in his search… a search for a life time….
I waited … to see “waiting” in all of them….
And then came a swoosh of cold December wind, a train from north came to a halt…
A split seconds that doors opened…
I could see a boy of 20 jumping off in his officer’s suit and crashing to hug his mom… closing a mothers wait... Thunder her heart beat… peace he sooths
And I see a man of 40 with lots of small packets de-boarding with a doll in his hand and worriedly gazing at anything running across… a sudden thud and two kids leaping all over him…. Tears in their eyes… tears in his eyes….
Far distance, a man in formals with a sky bag… watching a beautiful lady in red… waiting for him… thinking “does waiting enhances beauty?”... And as their eyes crossed.. That red lipstick… blushed her face with a hue of charm… and she just stood… watching him walk to her… turning every second into an eternity….
I see, an old lady with shivering legs, helping herself in a wheel chair… and just as she trips off… a man of 70 with a bunch of news papers and a smoke … Holds her hand and shares a smile…. A smile for an endless mile : )
--------
Probably… I waited … to feel the end of waiting,
And I knew why he wanted me to meet him on a railway station for the first time after so long…
After all what else could be a better place to believe in that tiny little space between meeting and departing…
my eyes filled with tears for knowing that he is still the same… who would have a reason for everything in life…. Those of the thinking sorts….
I just stood up and turned back …
to see him watching me and I smiled… could hardly say…
“Long time”
Showing posts with label Personals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Personals. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Free Falling....
....
This blog is for all those...who know not how to return emotions as they have
received....who are confused to show affection...for whom love has just one definition in one life..and that means to just "one person"...."their person" or as referred in this blog "your person"..for those who would probably be themselves to that one mortal...and can keep on being a second of themselves to the whole world.....Not by choice ...but by the way they are born....
Its difficult to know somebody so much to realise this abstract nature of them..and In my life I have known not many but three people of being this way..two men who by the fortune of their souls are this way...One being my father...and the other i cannot name....a third being in making is me....this piece of text might not be so comprehensible...but to those who find a part of themselves in these...happy to know...that we are not alone...as again fortunate or not ..I dont know...but to those this world refers as heartless...this blog is just an analogy of their restless mind...curious yet ignorant...an island of their own.........
....
***
"Underwater swimming..chill on ur spine and tickle on ur toes .. a wrinkled deep blue sky as if few hazy stars on blue blue satin...and as you rise up slowly and calmly..swimming towards the surface..bubbles gushing around you...half out of breath...adrenalines' high and you see the sky getting bluer than blue and each hazy star shining brighter than bright....u jump out of water..with no beats in heart...breath a new life... and touch the sky.. !!"
***
Have you ever got that sinking feeling?...or more to be the free falling feeling..a feeling which you can’t explain...something which you have been feeling often but yet quite unnerved by its existence...you might be travelling to some place...you stop at your destination and you suddenly look back..finding no reason to be there.....someplace of ritual...some wedding...lots of people and you find yourself lost....or simply waiting for someone and for a fraction of second the excitement to meet that someone for the first time elevates your heart beat and yet again you find no reason...
I might not know anything about how it feels to be on top of the world....but i have
certainly been closer to realise a feeling called free falling.....it happens on days when everything around you falls flat and also when you hold an infant crying for the first time...just into life...it happens when for no reason you be a bully...and also when you have just too much love to receive and hardly to share...
***
"Bike racing...you don’t see the lights ahead...you just see their glow...you don’t see the cause after breaking every bone into a miniscule of grain if that low flying happens to crash land...its just that pumping blood faster than the speedometer of the metal on wheels..and the madness...the madness to win the race..the madness to cross that red line and tell yourself...yes i conquered...what? not known!...and as the brightness of the light reduces and wind feels lighter n lighter...you know the feeling of speed biking...probably a ray of light escaping the darkness of entrapment....and reaching for that peak of all that’s green in you...just to find freedom at the other side of the red!"
***
That day i ran as far as i could...i did not read my personal trainer how much it read...i did not count kilometres....i kept on running...and a little more i would have been out of my city...i know it sounds funny but not when uv been the doer!!...
As you move out of your first world, by which i mean your close family..best
friends..nanny..granpa..that circle of old school chums......you step into an another world...a lot different and least to be similar... where you would meet a pauper..a beggar..few rich men...plenty of living ghosts and a handful of humans...and you would realise that out of all these people the only ever mattered to you were the handful of humans....they may be your mentor...your professor at college...your colleague at work...or a single working woman living next door...you might have been just a blob of clay when you would have met them but slowly as you start living each day.. each moment under their spell...they help you take your shape ..like a potter shapes the finest china...they carve you with patience and assertion into a mould unique in this world......and probably one day they change you to that perfect person you have always wanted to be...
you have always known that you have nothing to give them back....you strive hard thinking that perfect gift for them..that perfect moment to say thanks...that perfect request to gather for dinner .... that priceless smile to make them feel at the top of the world....and one fine morning you gather all that you have in yourself...all of that emotion or feeling to return what you have received..you knock at their door just to know they have managed to vanish away without letting you feel the pain....that professor at college has walked away unknown...that woman next door must be walking for some walk-in’s somewhere...or that colleague at work might now be the mentor to someone else...
True that we meet many and keep few...true that distance between two people is never by choice but by destiny and also true that Its a deep cut inside when you know that you have lots of love to receive and none to give at all...not because you don’t want to...not because that quotient of emotion is non-existent in u...but only because love, care, affection...name it anything...but the feeling of oneness in you can only be shown to that one person....'your person'.
***
"you wake up from a deep sleep...and you see your mom sitting at the porch cutting
vegetables...watching you wake up she comes to you....embraces you into comfort....strokes those few strands of hair standing on your head...and whispers a good morning....that softness...that fragrance of the after bath talcum and that warmth .....you feel..the world stopping..if only this moment could have been with me forever.....every boy into a man...and every girl into a woman...knows the smell of her saree....moms saree from that fraction of affection.....a trans unbelievable and irrevocable"
***
No matter how much one has shared the world with you...that feeling to feel can be shared with one........the cut grows deeper...and pulls you into a melancholy to feel nothing....it takes you the highest high and drops you.....free falling...all the way down...down n down....no emotions no hurt....you keep on falling into an abysmal ditch of human mess...where you meet plenty of heartless and plenty of good-men...you fall hurtling down like crazy..you run for hours and gasp for breath like anything...still you keep falling...you dance in high....you work like a zombie...you study for hours...not knowing why.....but still you hurdle down.....not knowing how bad the fall will be.....
That underwater swim....that highway bike race at 70 miles per hour...mothers warmth and that breathless running for miles together....are few that takes you to your lowest low and the highest high..the ever you can get....and leaves you......free falling
somewhere deep into your soul you know that this free falling has a fair side....it gives 'your person' a chance...to catch you before you hit the end....one miss and your gone..it lets him/her...pull you away from this endless confusion of not knowing to give back...of not knowing the hurt and the sad...of the madness of no returns...just to let you know...that yes you too have a person to return....
***
You too have the power to love!
***
This blog is for all those...who know not how to return emotions as they have
received....who are confused to show affection...for whom love has just one definition in one life..and that means to just "one person"...."their person" or as referred in this blog "your person"..for those who would probably be themselves to that one mortal...and can keep on being a second of themselves to the whole world.....Not by choice ...but by the way they are born....
Its difficult to know somebody so much to realise this abstract nature of them..and In my life I have known not many but three people of being this way..two men who by the fortune of their souls are this way...One being my father...and the other i cannot name....a third being in making is me....this piece of text might not be so comprehensible...but to those who find a part of themselves in these...happy to know...that we are not alone...as again fortunate or not ..I dont know...but to those this world refers as heartless...this blog is just an analogy of their restless mind...curious yet ignorant...an island of their own.........
....
***
"Underwater swimming..chill on ur spine and tickle on ur toes .. a wrinkled deep blue sky as if few hazy stars on blue blue satin...and as you rise up slowly and calmly..swimming towards the surface..bubbles gushing around you...half out of breath...adrenalines' high and you see the sky getting bluer than blue and each hazy star shining brighter than bright....u jump out of water..with no beats in heart...breath a new life... and touch the sky.. !!"
***
Have you ever got that sinking feeling?...or more to be the free falling feeling..a feeling which you can’t explain...something which you have been feeling often but yet quite unnerved by its existence...you might be travelling to some place...you stop at your destination and you suddenly look back..finding no reason to be there.....someplace of ritual...some wedding...lots of people and you find yourself lost....or simply waiting for someone and for a fraction of second the excitement to meet that someone for the first time elevates your heart beat and yet again you find no reason...
I might not know anything about how it feels to be on top of the world....but i have
certainly been closer to realise a feeling called free falling.....it happens on days when everything around you falls flat and also when you hold an infant crying for the first time...just into life...it happens when for no reason you be a bully...and also when you have just too much love to receive and hardly to share...
***
"Bike racing...you don’t see the lights ahead...you just see their glow...you don’t see the cause after breaking every bone into a miniscule of grain if that low flying happens to crash land...its just that pumping blood faster than the speedometer of the metal on wheels..and the madness...the madness to win the race..the madness to cross that red line and tell yourself...yes i conquered...what? not known!...and as the brightness of the light reduces and wind feels lighter n lighter...you know the feeling of speed biking...probably a ray of light escaping the darkness of entrapment....and reaching for that peak of all that’s green in you...just to find freedom at the other side of the red!"
***
That day i ran as far as i could...i did not read my personal trainer how much it read...i did not count kilometres....i kept on running...and a little more i would have been out of my city...i know it sounds funny but not when uv been the doer!!...
As you move out of your first world, by which i mean your close family..best
friends..nanny..granpa..that circle of old school chums......you step into an another world...a lot different and least to be similar... where you would meet a pauper..a beggar..few rich men...plenty of living ghosts and a handful of humans...and you would realise that out of all these people the only ever mattered to you were the handful of humans....they may be your mentor...your professor at college...your colleague at work...or a single working woman living next door...you might have been just a blob of clay when you would have met them but slowly as you start living each day.. each moment under their spell...they help you take your shape ..like a potter shapes the finest china...they carve you with patience and assertion into a mould unique in this world......and probably one day they change you to that perfect person you have always wanted to be...
you have always known that you have nothing to give them back....you strive hard thinking that perfect gift for them..that perfect moment to say thanks...that perfect request to gather for dinner .... that priceless smile to make them feel at the top of the world....and one fine morning you gather all that you have in yourself...all of that emotion or feeling to return what you have received..you knock at their door just to know they have managed to vanish away without letting you feel the pain....that professor at college has walked away unknown...that woman next door must be walking for some walk-in’s somewhere...or that colleague at work might now be the mentor to someone else...
True that we meet many and keep few...true that distance between two people is never by choice but by destiny and also true that Its a deep cut inside when you know that you have lots of love to receive and none to give at all...not because you don’t want to...not because that quotient of emotion is non-existent in u...but only because love, care, affection...name it anything...but the feeling of oneness in you can only be shown to that one person....'your person'.
***
"you wake up from a deep sleep...and you see your mom sitting at the porch cutting
vegetables...watching you wake up she comes to you....embraces you into comfort....strokes those few strands of hair standing on your head...and whispers a good morning....that softness...that fragrance of the after bath talcum and that warmth .....you feel..the world stopping..if only this moment could have been with me forever.....every boy into a man...and every girl into a woman...knows the smell of her saree....moms saree from that fraction of affection.....a trans unbelievable and irrevocable"
***
No matter how much one has shared the world with you...that feeling to feel can be shared with one........the cut grows deeper...and pulls you into a melancholy to feel nothing....it takes you the highest high and drops you.....free falling...all the way down...down n down....no emotions no hurt....you keep on falling into an abysmal ditch of human mess...where you meet plenty of heartless and plenty of good-men...you fall hurtling down like crazy..you run for hours and gasp for breath like anything...still you keep falling...you dance in high....you work like a zombie...you study for hours...not knowing why.....but still you hurdle down.....not knowing how bad the fall will be.....
That underwater swim....that highway bike race at 70 miles per hour...mothers warmth and that breathless running for miles together....are few that takes you to your lowest low and the highest high..the ever you can get....and leaves you......free falling
somewhere deep into your soul you know that this free falling has a fair side....it gives 'your person' a chance...to catch you before you hit the end....one miss and your gone..it lets him/her...pull you away from this endless confusion of not knowing to give back...of not knowing the hurt and the sad...of the madness of no returns...just to let you know...that yes you too have a person to return....
***
You too have the power to love!
***
Friday, January 11, 2008
Another World!
It’s an old song...that she was listening at this hour of another January morning...one of kishore's best and the one which many loved to dedicate her..."pal
pal dil ke pas" and she smiled as she watched her daughter getting married!
Few years back....and I say few as by the hands of history such a time span is definitely 'few'...
Hot jalebi’s were her favorite...her birthday and the whole house used to buzz with the fragrance of hot 'garam' jalebi’s and ‘Chingdi (lobster) fry’. Both being the lip smacking delicacy of a typical bangali 'badi' (Bengali home), as its with every bangla family apart from having family doctors and lawyers each of them are associated with a family 'mishti'r dokan' (sweet shop) and a family 'macher bajar' (a fish market)....same like her family was associated with ghosh babu's mishti house....so a family function(not to forget cricket matches, hockey matches, 'phootbal'(football) matches...and many to be considered just as equal as functions) and no sweets from ghosh babu....impossible!
As usual, soon as she woke up, someone from the family ran to stuff her with sweets and assurances that her favorite delicacy is on the list for today’s lunch. College on birthdays was a dream come true...as 'the significant' gifts and flowers awaited...but that day he didn't turn up...dodging all the 'Love' and affection from her family, she kept waiting and waiting at the station for him to return from his job. He didn't!
Upset she returned home before sun set...it’s the first time in two years that he dint turn up. Instead as she landed back home...almost whole of her clan kept waiting for her grand arrival, but not to greet her or gift her...but to question a "letter".
Her father never turned red unless the guilt was unforgivable...this time he sat motionless with a blind look holding a piece of envelop....on entering she was sure something was wrong....for no one spoke a word!
A quite mum (the best weapon a bangali babu has when his daughter is being wronged for a guy) and then the head of the family spoke in a morbid tone...."eta ke? (Who is he?)" Showing the envelope which she hoped had the tragic letter from her boyfriend.
Her best friend ditched her....past two years all his letters were addressed to her friend shyama's home and were then hand delivered to her secretly...but this fine morning, game was done...shyama's brother caught hold of the letter and instead of her. It was handed over to her father.
Flustered "sen babu" asked again...."eta ke bol...nahole thik hobena (Either tell who he is or face the consequences)" A simple girl, whose entire world revolved around the dream to have her own little house with a small garden flashed a fearful look and spoke "amar bondhu (my friend)"....who is such a friend to write such unreadable letters....screamed sen babu. She ran upstairs...to save herself the embarrassment she had to face in front of her whole clan...evening crossed with no one to knock...crying over her pillow she remembers the fragrance of hot jalebi’s which her house basked with that very morning. She felt like a traitor cheating her family...a stranger on a known domain...that simple love of hers was making her pay its price a lot more than she deserved...for she knew....in her days...a staunch bangali badi'r me (a bengali family girl) never married with her choice....
That night changed her for the rest of her life....she sat beside a window watching the dust settle down...watching the city which never sleeps to slow its pace and as in her town rikshaw wala's were first to honker early morning...she realized with the sound of it that this day is not going to be the same...that she has to answer all unanswered questions....that like a slow wavering mist which settles down on the earth beneath, even she would have to settle down on her beliefs.
Another hour and the door knocked....it was Tubul'da (in east every man other than one’s suitor and defined relations is addressed with a 'da' which means brother) ....the door was not locked...so he came inside...Sat in front of her and asked for the first time...(and she knew for the last as well)...
"Will u forget him?"
She kept looking at the morning sun for a long time...its reflections on the backyard 'pukur (a pond attached with the home...very usual in West Bengal)'...and with a shallow tone she replied
"No"
He kept staring at a shy twenty year old girl ...who used to hide behind curtains just the other day...who’s appearance at functions were as few as nothing for she was scared to meet new people and talk...who’s favorite pass time was to fish at the backyard pond....who in a fist of time overnight grew to be a fearless strong woman.
As he started to walk out...there was a meek sound strong enough to be heard by the air around her... Voicing
"Tubul'da...I wont marry anyone else"
He turned back ...watching her small face glowing bright as the sun shone bright orange....the first rays painting her face red...fragile yet confident
Days passed...Sen babu.... still avoiding social gatherings....Sen baudi(her mother) ... pursuing her hobby as usual, crying and feeding rest of the family members...after a month or so...a suitor was to be shown to her...for she was supposed to marry her fathers choice...As everybody sat waiting for her at the drawing room...she locked her self upstairs, denying to comedown....that was the end of all!
Her father agreed of her choice but only on a condition that he won’t be present at her marriage. Three months later she was married....to the man she wanted to...both scared and unprepared to get into a serious business ... that too so soon. As the wedding ceremony ended...he looked into her eyes and said..."don’t cry if we are short of money"
She laughed away...Knowing that the entire she had, won’t stand by her anymore....knowing that the man she trusted her life earns just 600 rupees per month....knowing that she might never be the same girl...to whom this world was as small as her backyard 'pukur'.
She left her birth land for a place which was hundreds of miles far off...unknown and unfamiliar...as she stood at the station reading “City of lakes”...unable to understand a single word...for she knew only Bengali and a little bit of English...she clenched his hand...pointing him to a door...so that he could read that for her...she didn't know how to read 'toilet' in Hindi.....he laughed the same way as she did while they got married...."Don’t worry...you'll learn all of it"
There small world was a paradise to her, she made her own home...her own friends...her own life, but only till her child was born. She was 21...as she stepped into her empty house holding her new born daughter...for no one from her family arrived till then...It hit her the second time that life would no more be simple....she knew there would be hardships as by then money was not so easy.
It was another of an evening he came back from his office and worded the much awaited statement
"You might have to find a job...or else we will have to compromise on her schooling" looking straight at his 3 year old daughter like a dead man feeling guilty.
Without knowing anything of a language being spoken where she stayed (funnily which was Hindi) she enrolled to finish her degree at the university...that night was stormy as both sat beside their beds...deciding that now the time has come that they both have to fight with everything that they have in them to be their best...so that they can give their children everything that they did not have.
Every morning with the child running for her nursery, one left for his job the other to the university...although he was qualified enough for that time, salary was not proportional to ones qualification it was proportional to ones promotion. He worked as much as one possibly can and in as many shifts one can....having lunch or dinner together was something that they both did not remember anymore.
But who was a bigger fighter. One who slogged like an animal or the other who faced criticism for her incapability to understand something as simple as the language being spoken...for fighting odds and translating her Bangla into English to pass exams and as well to tend for a three year old child...for them...having each other was more than a family and a moral support. They happened to be each others life support...as the existence of one was not possible without the other.
Years passed. After 3 years of finishing her graduation and post graduation she found a job at a local school and he, still climbing the ladder one by one. With no Godfather, to achieve his promotion all he had was to show his work...and those above him knew it very well. It was a long run for both of them her child’s first day at school...her first prize....her first letter she could write, everything went into a miss...for all that they could see is their daughter studying in one of the best schools of the city...that was their dream...and they made it true...their first success!
Since then there have been many....after seven years of dog work...he came to achieve one of the higher positions in his organization....she felt proud of him...That night she was the happiest ever...for she was expecting her second child and also for the day has come where they could breath peace for all that they have achieved yet...as they sat watching their daughter sleep.. She cried, past eight years of her marriage she cried for the first time...that drop of tear was her own celebration...from being a conventional Bengali girl...she came out to be a winner on her own terms...she watched that night dawning into a hue of pink...as the first rays painted her face red. Her essence of past flashed her memory...looks which dejected her for she choose her own suitor...that man who had been everything to her since childhood, leaving her at the edge...that train to the city of lakes and her first steps at the university....her every step, that would have been next to nothing for anyone of us...was as big as miles to walk...for she was not one of us...She belonged to a world where a woman’s destination was marked, where she wasn't allowed to speak unless questioned…as that was how a traditional, conservative family used to be…still she loved...she fought and she won...no matter how small her dreams might seem to us...she made it true. She fought selflessly for her family, her children. For a better tomorrow...forgetting her share of happiness.....her face was glowing as the bright sun was shining ...the same way as it did which changed her years back. After a while...he looked at her and said...
"I’m proud of us"
Her life was lived complete in a single moment!
That very night I was born...
pal dil ke pas" and she smiled as she watched her daughter getting married!
Few years back....and I say few as by the hands of history such a time span is definitely 'few'...
Hot jalebi’s were her favorite...her birthday and the whole house used to buzz with the fragrance of hot 'garam' jalebi’s and ‘Chingdi (lobster) fry’. Both being the lip smacking delicacy of a typical bangali 'badi' (Bengali home), as its with every bangla family apart from having family doctors and lawyers each of them are associated with a family 'mishti'r dokan' (sweet shop) and a family 'macher bajar' (a fish market)....same like her family was associated with ghosh babu's mishti house....so a family function(not to forget cricket matches, hockey matches, 'phootbal'(football) matches...and many to be considered just as equal as functions) and no sweets from ghosh babu....impossible!
As usual, soon as she woke up, someone from the family ran to stuff her with sweets and assurances that her favorite delicacy is on the list for today’s lunch. College on birthdays was a dream come true...as 'the significant' gifts and flowers awaited...but that day he didn't turn up...dodging all the 'Love' and affection from her family, she kept waiting and waiting at the station for him to return from his job. He didn't!
Upset she returned home before sun set...it’s the first time in two years that he dint turn up. Instead as she landed back home...almost whole of her clan kept waiting for her grand arrival, but not to greet her or gift her...but to question a "letter".
Her father never turned red unless the guilt was unforgivable...this time he sat motionless with a blind look holding a piece of envelop....on entering she was sure something was wrong....for no one spoke a word!
A quite mum (the best weapon a bangali babu has when his daughter is being wronged for a guy) and then the head of the family spoke in a morbid tone...."eta ke? (Who is he?)" Showing the envelope which she hoped had the tragic letter from her boyfriend.
Her best friend ditched her....past two years all his letters were addressed to her friend shyama's home and were then hand delivered to her secretly...but this fine morning, game was done...shyama's brother caught hold of the letter and instead of her. It was handed over to her father.
Flustered "sen babu" asked again...."eta ke bol...nahole thik hobena (Either tell who he is or face the consequences)" A simple girl, whose entire world revolved around the dream to have her own little house with a small garden flashed a fearful look and spoke "amar bondhu (my friend)"....who is such a friend to write such unreadable letters....screamed sen babu. She ran upstairs...to save herself the embarrassment she had to face in front of her whole clan...evening crossed with no one to knock...crying over her pillow she remembers the fragrance of hot jalebi’s which her house basked with that very morning. She felt like a traitor cheating her family...a stranger on a known domain...that simple love of hers was making her pay its price a lot more than she deserved...for she knew....in her days...a staunch bangali badi'r me (a bengali family girl) never married with her choice....
That night changed her for the rest of her life....she sat beside a window watching the dust settle down...watching the city which never sleeps to slow its pace and as in her town rikshaw wala's were first to honker early morning...she realized with the sound of it that this day is not going to be the same...that she has to answer all unanswered questions....that like a slow wavering mist which settles down on the earth beneath, even she would have to settle down on her beliefs.
Another hour and the door knocked....it was Tubul'da (in east every man other than one’s suitor and defined relations is addressed with a 'da' which means brother) ....the door was not locked...so he came inside...Sat in front of her and asked for the first time...(and she knew for the last as well)...
"Will u forget him?"
She kept looking at the morning sun for a long time...its reflections on the backyard 'pukur (a pond attached with the home...very usual in West Bengal)'...and with a shallow tone she replied
"No"
He kept staring at a shy twenty year old girl ...who used to hide behind curtains just the other day...who’s appearance at functions were as few as nothing for she was scared to meet new people and talk...who’s favorite pass time was to fish at the backyard pond....who in a fist of time overnight grew to be a fearless strong woman.
As he started to walk out...there was a meek sound strong enough to be heard by the air around her... Voicing
"Tubul'da...I wont marry anyone else"
He turned back ...watching her small face glowing bright as the sun shone bright orange....the first rays painting her face red...fragile yet confident
Days passed...Sen babu.... still avoiding social gatherings....Sen baudi(her mother) ... pursuing her hobby as usual, crying and feeding rest of the family members...after a month or so...a suitor was to be shown to her...for she was supposed to marry her fathers choice...As everybody sat waiting for her at the drawing room...she locked her self upstairs, denying to comedown....that was the end of all!
Her father agreed of her choice but only on a condition that he won’t be present at her marriage. Three months later she was married....to the man she wanted to...both scared and unprepared to get into a serious business ... that too so soon. As the wedding ceremony ended...he looked into her eyes and said..."don’t cry if we are short of money"
She laughed away...Knowing that the entire she had, won’t stand by her anymore....knowing that the man she trusted her life earns just 600 rupees per month....knowing that she might never be the same girl...to whom this world was as small as her backyard 'pukur'.
She left her birth land for a place which was hundreds of miles far off...unknown and unfamiliar...as she stood at the station reading “City of lakes”...unable to understand a single word...for she knew only Bengali and a little bit of English...she clenched his hand...pointing him to a door...so that he could read that for her...she didn't know how to read 'toilet' in Hindi.....he laughed the same way as she did while they got married...."Don’t worry...you'll learn all of it"
There small world was a paradise to her, she made her own home...her own friends...her own life, but only till her child was born. She was 21...as she stepped into her empty house holding her new born daughter...for no one from her family arrived till then...It hit her the second time that life would no more be simple....she knew there would be hardships as by then money was not so easy.
It was another of an evening he came back from his office and worded the much awaited statement
"You might have to find a job...or else we will have to compromise on her schooling" looking straight at his 3 year old daughter like a dead man feeling guilty.
Without knowing anything of a language being spoken where she stayed (funnily which was Hindi) she enrolled to finish her degree at the university...that night was stormy as both sat beside their beds...deciding that now the time has come that they both have to fight with everything that they have in them to be their best...so that they can give their children everything that they did not have.
Every morning with the child running for her nursery, one left for his job the other to the university...although he was qualified enough for that time, salary was not proportional to ones qualification it was proportional to ones promotion. He worked as much as one possibly can and in as many shifts one can....having lunch or dinner together was something that they both did not remember anymore.
But who was a bigger fighter. One who slogged like an animal or the other who faced criticism for her incapability to understand something as simple as the language being spoken...for fighting odds and translating her Bangla into English to pass exams and as well to tend for a three year old child...for them...having each other was more than a family and a moral support. They happened to be each others life support...as the existence of one was not possible without the other.
Years passed. After 3 years of finishing her graduation and post graduation she found a job at a local school and he, still climbing the ladder one by one. With no Godfather, to achieve his promotion all he had was to show his work...and those above him knew it very well. It was a long run for both of them her child’s first day at school...her first prize....her first letter she could write, everything went into a miss...for all that they could see is their daughter studying in one of the best schools of the city...that was their dream...and they made it true...their first success!
Since then there have been many....after seven years of dog work...he came to achieve one of the higher positions in his organization....she felt proud of him...That night she was the happiest ever...for she was expecting her second child and also for the day has come where they could breath peace for all that they have achieved yet...as they sat watching their daughter sleep.. She cried, past eight years of her marriage she cried for the first time...that drop of tear was her own celebration...from being a conventional Bengali girl...she came out to be a winner on her own terms...she watched that night dawning into a hue of pink...as the first rays painted her face red. Her essence of past flashed her memory...looks which dejected her for she choose her own suitor...that man who had been everything to her since childhood, leaving her at the edge...that train to the city of lakes and her first steps at the university....her every step, that would have been next to nothing for anyone of us...was as big as miles to walk...for she was not one of us...She belonged to a world where a woman’s destination was marked, where she wasn't allowed to speak unless questioned…as that was how a traditional, conservative family used to be…still she loved...she fought and she won...no matter how small her dreams might seem to us...she made it true. She fought selflessly for her family, her children. For a better tomorrow...forgetting her share of happiness.....her face was glowing as the bright sun was shining ...the same way as it did which changed her years back. After a while...he looked at her and said...
"I’m proud of us"
Her life was lived complete in a single moment!
That very night I was born...
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Colours of the night!
You search for your space..and not by physicality but the inner space of your mind...unconquerd and inane.you travel..you read...you discover your inside out but still u fail to find that "space"...that nothingness in you ... the one which might kill you and at the same time keep u breathing...the one which is your strength as well your broken spine...the one which is both you and your alter ego....you try and search for it...and at the end u realise that all your life what you'v been searching is nothing but your real "self"...the energy that makes you and as well breaks you!
here one's "self" is discovered by the emptyness of many kinds...as a fathomless "space", a nondescriptive "thing"...as the literal meaning of "none" and by anything as casually described by an "it".
Its one's journey to discover himself!
...
Through an empty road
I look in for some space
funnier it may seem ...
as I try and find it "none"!
and I find myself in the sunshine
in the woods.. in the rain
in the morning glow of sun
till the midnight dawning lane
from the heavens to the earth
as i seek through the ends undone
funnier it may seem ...
as I try and find that 'none'!
In an empty room
I look in for some space
the nothingness crowds me deep in vain
as the lonesome falls again
from the church ... to the temple
from one sorrow... to another fun
funnier it may seem...
as I try and find that "none"
and how I sometimes fly like an eagle....
sometimes like a dove ..slow and fine
sometimes I swim deep in the ocean
all to look for that "thing" of mine.....
and how I drive the highways accross...
NYC via chicago ...to our own dilli roads
from the lightless lane..to that half echoed sound
that thing of mine ....is still nowhere to be found...
that last bus..and locals at night
that corner bar where no one fights
that scorching summer ... and winter nights
on empty sheets i search for my space.
in empty class rooms..on vacant chairs
in morning metros...to the last of few stairs
on flightless runways..to the hollow stares
at the ends of all... still I search for my space.
from the nothingness of the soul...to the holloring of my mind
from the lonely mornings ..to all the pleasures I dont find
from the earth beneath my feet...to the end of my vision
I search for the only.. the only space of mine.
....
and as I lie down
all perished and jaded
I search no more...for my time has come
and right amidst the half lived years
the half spent joys..and the incomplete selves
I see "it" mourning...for I failed to find
....for I failed to find the "self" of mine
In its enigma it holds me tight...
walks me careful, quite and safe
with an honour to my soul..and tears for my death
I see it walking me ...right till my grave!
....
...
here one's "self" is discovered by the emptyness of many kinds...as a fathomless "space", a nondescriptive "thing"...as the literal meaning of "none" and by anything as casually described by an "it".
Its one's journey to discover himself!
...
Through an empty road
I look in for some space
funnier it may seem ...
as I try and find it "none"!
and I find myself in the sunshine
in the woods.. in the rain
in the morning glow of sun
till the midnight dawning lane
from the heavens to the earth
as i seek through the ends undone
funnier it may seem ...
as I try and find that 'none'!
In an empty room
I look in for some space
the nothingness crowds me deep in vain
as the lonesome falls again
from the church ... to the temple
from one sorrow... to another fun
funnier it may seem...
as I try and find that "none"
and how I sometimes fly like an eagle....
sometimes like a dove ..slow and fine
sometimes I swim deep in the ocean
all to look for that "thing" of mine.....
and how I drive the highways accross...
NYC via chicago ...to our own dilli roads
from the lightless lane..to that half echoed sound
that thing of mine ....is still nowhere to be found...
that last bus..and locals at night
that corner bar where no one fights
that scorching summer ... and winter nights
on empty sheets i search for my space.
in empty class rooms..on vacant chairs
in morning metros...to the last of few stairs
on flightless runways..to the hollow stares
at the ends of all... still I search for my space.
from the nothingness of the soul...to the holloring of my mind
from the lonely mornings ..to all the pleasures I dont find
from the earth beneath my feet...to the end of my vision
I search for the only.. the only space of mine.
....
and as I lie down
all perished and jaded
I search no more...for my time has come
and right amidst the half lived years
the half spent joys..and the incomplete selves
I see "it" mourning...for I failed to find
....for I failed to find the "self" of mine
In its enigma it holds me tight...
walks me careful, quite and safe
with an honour to my soul..and tears for my death
I see it walking me ...right till my grave!
....
...
Friday, December 21, 2007
Airtight!
A mamoth, a squirell , a tiger save a human child to its destiny......a plestanian boy calls the other to play football at the no mans land....a boyfriend jumps high enough to reach a bus window to hand his girlfriend a chocolate....a mother salutes to her dead son's martyr....and so many more.
yes we all have seen these "emotions"...again and again...some on television ... some in our lives...and we wonder...what makes our brain go suddenly for such a "brainless" activity, and i say brainless cause on all aspects one wouldnt do something like that on a normal given day.
hers again a story...like my other one's, something which may happen to many...its just that my emotions led me see them more deeply, and i share...so that you dont loose your last chance...as i did!
"why do u look like that?...as if ul kill me" i was questioned for i had the habit to look straight into the eyes of the person in context...I dont know if its with everybody..but if u really know a person i feel one has the power to look deeper than one wants to.....i actually damn cared to kill or to leave half dead, i never changed the way i looked untill i'd once seen which i never wanted to!
call me lucky but i always had people to sit and listen to me, it was always me who chose the one's i wanted to say something....my set of friends...my school...my network...and hopefully some fine day my work place as well....so i and jay were once sitting on the backyard of his old house and playing checkers....though we were not that kid....but we just happen to love that game since we were four. he was about to leave for his job or what should i say serving the country...it was pretty casual for me as by then..almost all my friends have moved out...i had the habit of realising the fact that now the time has come to walk "alone"....after the game we decided to have some coffee...fortunately he being the one to brew it....since filter was not my game!
his time was nearing up to leave for the station...after a two hours delay from the indian railways we were pretty much sure that after half and hour he'l be all set to go.....as we sat drinking that black "something".... he said something to himself with a chuckle
"mind talking?" i said
"nah, just feeling weird"... he had just one exclamation for evrythin on this planet...whatever din suit him was supposed to be weird! but he kept talking...and i let him...for i was sure we wont sit like this anymore and drink coffee...me still being in teens....he wont comeback for a longer time.
"you see this coffee...it tastes this good cause it has been worked upon for a longer time....zada mehenat lagi (more efforts were put)...and as u drink it slowly u realise that sooner or later the mug is going to be empty"
"so you having this empty mug feeling" by the look i knew it was a bad timing for a pathetic pj
"noh...im not feeling empty...im feeling overstuffed..overstuffed of everything that i havent let out till now.....theres so much to say...to so many people...but i aint got time...to baba...to ma...to evrybody"
it was time....we went outside...took a taxi and went to the station..since his parents were outstation i accompanied him....for something in me, told me...that he is really going to take a long time before i see him next .....
as he boarded the train he stood at the door looking below.. what?....i din know
"zada hero mat ban, go and take ur seat...il get back home safely" i joked
he kept standing at the door
the train started and he looked straight into my eyes "u remm i told u not to look like that...to people.....it was coz i was scared that someday you could read my mind"
he kept staring at me till the train moved off faster......."theres so much to stay" these words kept ringing in my ears again and again.....
since we shared a childhood friendship..there was no question that he tried conveying a deeper meaning or whatsoever...coz i being me...knew almost everything of him...his first smoke...drink...girl...and even dope!...there was no secret that he din share...it was different...there was something more...a void!
for the first time i was ashamed.....for i failed to read my best friends mind.....the train moved faster and faster..and he blurred into the thin air.... i failed to know him for the first and the last time!
jay never cameback....he got lost somewhere...into the crowds....for reasons which even those high profile military guys din tell us. we all waited for him for 4 years....untill i was sure that i knew what that look in his eyes meant! i realised that "something" in him knew that he wont get another chance to say how he felt for all of us.......it was the look which told me that he wont be there to sit and stare!............its just that i din want myself to believe....a loss was something which became more casual than i could take...by then i had lost on many and i din want to loose him.....but as i said...u never know with emotions...unless uv faced them death hard!
that was another of a summer morning ....when i went to his ma .... she was bussy with her home nitty grities when suddenly something punched me hard deep inside and i blurted..
"aunty, jay loved u very much" ...as i stared at her...i could see the same look...that same stare....that same void, that jay had....right on those stairs! and with all my trust..i know...that at that very moment she could read me of what i felt!
after that day we waited no more! ... coz we knew...jay was inside all of us.....weather he be dead or alive....he will be with us always! .... as love is something that we share, even when we do not exist!
that palestanian boy....that mother of a dead child and those innumerable people who want to convey the feeling of love through different emotions...have it in them...the feeling of unknown bonding..... way before they know themselves!
and now .... when i stare at masses...i see all those....who dont realise that they have the power to read millions even without listening once....i search for that single eye...which would stare back at me and give me my second chance...the one which i lost 5 years back!
the one which would never comeback!
P.s. the names are changed for reasons well known!
yes we all have seen these "emotions"...again and again...some on television ... some in our lives...and we wonder...what makes our brain go suddenly for such a "brainless" activity, and i say brainless cause on all aspects one wouldnt do something like that on a normal given day.
hers again a story...like my other one's, something which may happen to many...its just that my emotions led me see them more deeply, and i share...so that you dont loose your last chance...as i did!
"why do u look like that?...as if ul kill me" i was questioned for i had the habit to look straight into the eyes of the person in context...I dont know if its with everybody..but if u really know a person i feel one has the power to look deeper than one wants to.....i actually damn cared to kill or to leave half dead, i never changed the way i looked untill i'd once seen which i never wanted to!
call me lucky but i always had people to sit and listen to me, it was always me who chose the one's i wanted to say something....my set of friends...my school...my network...and hopefully some fine day my work place as well....so i and jay were once sitting on the backyard of his old house and playing checkers....though we were not that kid....but we just happen to love that game since we were four. he was about to leave for his job or what should i say serving the country...it was pretty casual for me as by then..almost all my friends have moved out...i had the habit of realising the fact that now the time has come to walk "alone"....after the game we decided to have some coffee...fortunately he being the one to brew it....since filter was not my game!
his time was nearing up to leave for the station...after a two hours delay from the indian railways we were pretty much sure that after half and hour he'l be all set to go.....as we sat drinking that black "something".... he said something to himself with a chuckle
"mind talking?" i said
"nah, just feeling weird"... he had just one exclamation for evrythin on this planet...whatever din suit him was supposed to be weird! but he kept talking...and i let him...for i was sure we wont sit like this anymore and drink coffee...me still being in teens....he wont comeback for a longer time.
"you see this coffee...it tastes this good cause it has been worked upon for a longer time....zada mehenat lagi (more efforts were put)...and as u drink it slowly u realise that sooner or later the mug is going to be empty"
"so you having this empty mug feeling" by the look i knew it was a bad timing for a pathetic pj
"noh...im not feeling empty...im feeling overstuffed..overstuffed of everything that i havent let out till now.....theres so much to say...to so many people...but i aint got time...to baba...to ma...to evrybody"
it was time....we went outside...took a taxi and went to the station..since his parents were outstation i accompanied him....for something in me, told me...that he is really going to take a long time before i see him next .....
as he boarded the train he stood at the door looking below.. what?....i din know
"zada hero mat ban, go and take ur seat...il get back home safely" i joked
he kept standing at the door
the train started and he looked straight into my eyes "u remm i told u not to look like that...to people.....it was coz i was scared that someday you could read my mind"
he kept staring at me till the train moved off faster......."theres so much to stay" these words kept ringing in my ears again and again.....
since we shared a childhood friendship..there was no question that he tried conveying a deeper meaning or whatsoever...coz i being me...knew almost everything of him...his first smoke...drink...girl...and even dope!...there was no secret that he din share...it was different...there was something more...a void!
for the first time i was ashamed.....for i failed to read my best friends mind.....the train moved faster and faster..and he blurred into the thin air.... i failed to know him for the first and the last time!
jay never cameback....he got lost somewhere...into the crowds....for reasons which even those high profile military guys din tell us. we all waited for him for 4 years....untill i was sure that i knew what that look in his eyes meant! i realised that "something" in him knew that he wont get another chance to say how he felt for all of us.......it was the look which told me that he wont be there to sit and stare!............its just that i din want myself to believe....a loss was something which became more casual than i could take...by then i had lost on many and i din want to loose him.....but as i said...u never know with emotions...unless uv faced them death hard!
that was another of a summer morning ....when i went to his ma .... she was bussy with her home nitty grities when suddenly something punched me hard deep inside and i blurted..
"aunty, jay loved u very much" ...as i stared at her...i could see the same look...that same stare....that same void, that jay had....right on those stairs! and with all my trust..i know...that at that very moment she could read me of what i felt!
after that day we waited no more! ... coz we knew...jay was inside all of us.....weather he be dead or alive....he will be with us always! .... as love is something that we share, even when we do not exist!
that palestanian boy....that mother of a dead child and those innumerable people who want to convey the feeling of love through different emotions...have it in them...the feeling of unknown bonding..... way before they know themselves!
and now .... when i stare at masses...i see all those....who dont realise that they have the power to read millions even without listening once....i search for that single eye...which would stare back at me and give me my second chance...the one which i lost 5 years back!
the one which would never comeback!
P.s. the names are changed for reasons well known!
Friday, December 14, 2007
A Falcon's Fly
My sister was in class second when she was told to speak something about me…a school elocution competition…where she hardly managed to spurt out a single sentence…reason she din sleep for the past 48 hours, as I was born … but managed to receive the loudest applause amongst all other competitors….
“my sister is a treasure box, with lots and lots of “nice nice” things for me”
The whole crowd first laughed at her for 15 minutes when the teacher announced her failure to continue the speech as she din have any idea of what to speak about “something” which is few hours old… and then clapped for the rest of the 15 minutes.
Why’d they laughed she still fails to understand and why’d they clapped ..well, guess she has come to know about it after 21 years.
When my dad asked her , from where did she managed to say something which has dropped her into an overnight fame; her reply was…. ”papa you only said she is a gift to me, aint she?”
Well she was right for at least one thing. I am a treasure box stuffed with many precious “things”, and she being one.
But this isn’t about her, this is about someone else who equally belongs to the same league of stuffs…we cal her fondly mad!
I remember I was overtly fused up with my eleventh standard school exams when she dashed into my home with a loud noise….”happy birthday darling” … well I surely din find any big gift following her so I was pretty sure she had just come to wish me “without a gift”…anyway, in a morbid tone I managed to fake a thank you smile…for I being very much drowned into my math paper!....she sat, chatted with the other people and in between sighed a sympathetic smile for I had to study on my birthday…as she was about to leave she bumped into my room…went to my mirror and stuck something right on top of it…a paper note…and said “isko nikalna nai, samjhi”..(don’t take it off.okay)…I was relieved when she finally took leave…for then I could study peacefully…surely when I was young “we din gel well”…so I hardly bothered to read what she stuck at that mirror of mine. As the next day I was rushing for school for my exams …I saw what she stuck ...it was written bold and clear with a red ink.
“No matter where u are...or what u do…il be always there for u”
A sudden rush of guilt plunged through me, as soon as I came back from school I rushed to see her…but she was already gone…to join her new job as an economist at one of the biggest banks in India”…I felt ashamed and sad…for something in me knew that what she had written write at that piece of paper…she actually meant it.
Years passed… I grew up to be in college and due to some work I had to rush to Bombay for some family deeds…. It was again she helping me…to let me stayed at her place… as I entered I could see the same glowing face welcoming me as if I was the only sister..only friend…only guest she ever had. We went for midnight buffets… stop-at-snack-bar luncheons….home delivered pizzas and long long hours chats…suddenly there was a different dimension of relation that we shared…way more than that of a little sister and an elder one…something of being friends…and mostly like what a woman shares to a woman… may be I grew up. On the day I was about to return we went for a morning drive….fortunately the day was way different from usual Bombay days…clouds were lowering…we went to bandstand….walked…felt the cold mist …listened to good music. and had coffee at barista…when I was about to get up for the car…she held my hand and said…
”u know baby…I came to see you when u were born…I was there when ur sister blurted out that infamous line about you….and today I see that you are actually a treasure box to us…coz not only u are the little sister I never had… but one of my best friends I will ever have”
For a second I felt like crying…as of my 20 years I din think of her anything more than my best friends elder sister….she always came "after" somebody….after her brother..after her mother…as they were more important to me “till then”…but as I stood that day in the middle of cold winter morning that same guilt of mine…hugged me hard.
The feeling was same…as yesterday I stood all decked up to attend her wedding…clouds enveloped my city and the mist same as that day….almost one can feel it!...at the end of all's I returned from her wedding the next morning…I stepped inside my room and I saw the loosely hanged paper note from the top of my mirror…
I stood reading it for almost half an hour…realizing all that I had never told her…and would never get a chance again….
Realizing that there might not be another person to hold my hand and say that Im special.
Realizing that I might never get to say that “no matter where you are, what you do…il be there for you”
Realizing that she was one of the most important keys to my treasure box.
“Sometimes you realize what u had when u actually seize to have it”.
And today when she flew off to some far lands….happy, more than she ever was…here are the innumerable fragments of me that went away with her…that guilt which I felt five years back…that friendship that we shared at bandstand…and that unknown bonding that we had till date!
Maybe one fine day…I’l get to tell her that all her home made cakes….her drives..her cares…have shaped me what I am today…and made me another of her part…an another of a “mad”.
Cheers to her and her happy life!
“my sister is a treasure box, with lots and lots of “nice nice” things for me”
The whole crowd first laughed at her for 15 minutes when the teacher announced her failure to continue the speech as she din have any idea of what to speak about “something” which is few hours old… and then clapped for the rest of the 15 minutes.
Why’d they laughed she still fails to understand and why’d they clapped ..well, guess she has come to know about it after 21 years.
When my dad asked her , from where did she managed to say something which has dropped her into an overnight fame; her reply was…. ”papa you only said she is a gift to me, aint she?”
Well she was right for at least one thing. I am a treasure box stuffed with many precious “things”, and she being one.
But this isn’t about her, this is about someone else who equally belongs to the same league of stuffs…we cal her fondly mad!
I remember I was overtly fused up with my eleventh standard school exams when she dashed into my home with a loud noise….”happy birthday darling” … well I surely din find any big gift following her so I was pretty sure she had just come to wish me “without a gift”…anyway, in a morbid tone I managed to fake a thank you smile…for I being very much drowned into my math paper!....she sat, chatted with the other people and in between sighed a sympathetic smile for I had to study on my birthday…as she was about to leave she bumped into my room…went to my mirror and stuck something right on top of it…a paper note…and said “isko nikalna nai, samjhi”..(don’t take it off.okay)…I was relieved when she finally took leave…for then I could study peacefully…surely when I was young “we din gel well”…so I hardly bothered to read what she stuck at that mirror of mine. As the next day I was rushing for school for my exams …I saw what she stuck ...it was written bold and clear with a red ink.
“No matter where u are...or what u do…il be always there for u”
A sudden rush of guilt plunged through me, as soon as I came back from school I rushed to see her…but she was already gone…to join her new job as an economist at one of the biggest banks in India”…I felt ashamed and sad…for something in me knew that what she had written write at that piece of paper…she actually meant it.
Years passed… I grew up to be in college and due to some work I had to rush to Bombay for some family deeds…. It was again she helping me…to let me stayed at her place… as I entered I could see the same glowing face welcoming me as if I was the only sister..only friend…only guest she ever had. We went for midnight buffets… stop-at-snack-bar luncheons….home delivered pizzas and long long hours chats…suddenly there was a different dimension of relation that we shared…way more than that of a little sister and an elder one…something of being friends…and mostly like what a woman shares to a woman… may be I grew up. On the day I was about to return we went for a morning drive….fortunately the day was way different from usual Bombay days…clouds were lowering…we went to bandstand….walked…felt the cold mist …listened to good music. and had coffee at barista…when I was about to get up for the car…she held my hand and said…
”u know baby…I came to see you when u were born…I was there when ur sister blurted out that infamous line about you….and today I see that you are actually a treasure box to us…coz not only u are the little sister I never had… but one of my best friends I will ever have”
For a second I felt like crying…as of my 20 years I din think of her anything more than my best friends elder sister….she always came "after" somebody….after her brother..after her mother…as they were more important to me “till then”…but as I stood that day in the middle of cold winter morning that same guilt of mine…hugged me hard.
The feeling was same…as yesterday I stood all decked up to attend her wedding…clouds enveloped my city and the mist same as that day….almost one can feel it!...at the end of all's I returned from her wedding the next morning…I stepped inside my room and I saw the loosely hanged paper note from the top of my mirror…
I stood reading it for almost half an hour…realizing all that I had never told her…and would never get a chance again….
Realizing that there might not be another person to hold my hand and say that Im special.
Realizing that I might never get to say that “no matter where you are, what you do…il be there for you”
Realizing that she was one of the most important keys to my treasure box.
“Sometimes you realize what u had when u actually seize to have it”.
And today when she flew off to some far lands….happy, more than she ever was…here are the innumerable fragments of me that went away with her…that guilt which I felt five years back…that friendship that we shared at bandstand…and that unknown bonding that we had till date!
Maybe one fine day…I’l get to tell her that all her home made cakes….her drives..her cares…have shaped me what I am today…and made me another of her part…an another of a “mad”.
Cheers to her and her happy life!
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Comatose!
This is about two people iv known for sometime of my life....and for quite a long time i was in a limbo as to whther i should write about them or shouldn't I..but eventually as things stand today I don't feel any privacy attack even if I pen them down....so I start..I'v used nick names for the story is true and few are very much alive and living.
she was 5 when she had an acute asthamatic attack.. I saw her falling on the hard cemented floor of my school indore play room...she sweated badly...of the 64 of us who stood there not knowing what exactly to do...I cried as loud as I could...cause she was my best friend...and for that fraction of time I thought she is goind to die....my junior school principle came running....took her into her lap and then we all were sent to our respective classes.....As i started walking out of the class..i turned for the last time to see her...but was unable...i went back to KG II B. She returned the next week...all happy..more fatter...and honkering bashing to all the other desks as she reached mine ..almost shouting.." oye, Im back"... I was happy! this is the only scene that i remember of my kinder garten days! Me and "Tichhi" as we all fondly used to call her.
We have done almost everything together from knowing whats inside a room where all senior "didi's" from higher secondary used to go...where we being kids were prohibitted and which read something like "GCR" whose full form we didn't know at that time and eventually could find nothing interesting as it was just another "Girls common room"...to.... laughing and asking weird questions at human anatomy classes...we were great together!
Growing up was never a process to us..coz we never came to knw how we grew up so fast...right from famous five to GnR...from fancy dress competitions to walking at farewell ramps...it was fun..and by that i certainly don 't mean we never had a fight...we had...and sometimes bad ones too..but yes, they were never bigger than our yaari-dosti :)
Then on a sunday morning she called me to say she found a guy of 'her kind' with whome she likes just to be with or to be more precisely "faalen in love" with.....that night we partied like anything....played football till 2 in the night...got wet.....went for a drive...ducked parents while returning home in the morning....we'd done evry crazy stuff that was available to us...just to celebrate that one amongst us is no more single!!!
His name was CJ or thats what we used to call him....I'd met him once when we all partied again as CJ cracked AIIMS...was a real time brainy kid....yes, we were happy then for tichhi for CJ and for our dosti....two months passed after CJ went to med school...he used to be upset for not being able to cope up with his studies...and so we all used to cheer him and buck him we knew this was just a passing phase....but things turned out worse....CJ turned out to be a doper...we tried pulling him back from that "mess" of his life...but as fate wanted ..he went deeper and deeper into it....he lost it!
we realised that tichchi shouldnt be with him anymore for he was abusive...irrational and on top of it he was a druggist...
Another sunday morning and another call...it was from tichchy's mom.....that tichchi is hospitalised...i knew what she tried...its just that i din want me to believe that she has actually done what she said to me the night before "babe.. i think il kill myself"....i was sure she was kidding for i knew her not be a fool head....but yes i also knew she was damn into CJ...i went running...saw her resembling the exact color of a white bed sheet she was lying in....when she was up from the comatose...she told me Cj has been caught by police and she was scared!
"scared of what tichchy?" i did ask
"nothing babes..Im just scared"
she returned home ... all friends of ours planned for a trip to mumbai....we went.....had fun...we walked through bandstand...listening to november rain...went to cafe shops....movies theatres....we were the same as we were when CJ wasnt there.
we came back and another downpour waited to wet us all ...... we heard Cj got into an accident and was no more....
for sometime tichchy went blank....she started smoking... doping? I was'nt sure...but yes she wasn't stable.....all our night stays turned out to be a strike process for me and few more of my friends to pull her back from the "mess".....the more we tried ... the more she lost it....somehow we felt she wasnt the same one....or if im not wrong i just failed to understand her anymore...19 years of friendship came crashing in front of me...as she said "You know whats your problem....You are too much practical and too insensitive to understand even your best friend"
those words still shake me like anything....that night i came back at 2 and cried the rest of it in front of my dad...for all i knew that friendship is somthing that i'd never compromised!
another morning...another call.....her second attempt! I'd seen the room where she tried spilitting whatever she wanted...
5 days after, her dad took her someplace out of india..to her masi's place...for she needed treatment....of what.. even i din know.
it was 5th of june when i went to the airport to see her off....as she was checking in she held my hand and said "sorry babes....and..oye,I'll be back"......and she walked.
I couldnt stand there.. for the only person i ever cry to is my dad...as i was walking back to my car ...I turned back just to see her for the last time...but i was unable to...my school indoor games room came flashing into my memory..i ran back!
She did not return till date....occasional call's to uncle and aunty came to seize as i realised for them anything that associated tichchy was not to be kept in touch with....in an age where emails, Im's and fone calls are synonymous to existences..here we are...way far into different worlds. with no connections at all!
Even today when i look at my school ..I see the best of what I had and the worst of what i lost!
but life goes on..maybe someday..somewhere....as we said "right on the roof tops of empire state...we will party...boooz all night and look at the stars".
"Be a writer yaar...what fun is there in driving a car if u compare it to the power of moving emotions".... when i'd taken up engineering ticchy in her casual tone sounded something like that...and so not a whole novel but just a blog for her!
she was 5 when she had an acute asthamatic attack.. I saw her falling on the hard cemented floor of my school indore play room...she sweated badly...of the 64 of us who stood there not knowing what exactly to do...I cried as loud as I could...cause she was my best friend...and for that fraction of time I thought she is goind to die....my junior school principle came running....took her into her lap and then we all were sent to our respective classes.....As i started walking out of the class..i turned for the last time to see her...but was unable...i went back to KG II B. She returned the next week...all happy..more fatter...and honkering bashing to all the other desks as she reached mine ..almost shouting.." oye, Im back"... I was happy! this is the only scene that i remember of my kinder garten days! Me and "Tichhi" as we all fondly used to call her.
We have done almost everything together from knowing whats inside a room where all senior "didi's" from higher secondary used to go...where we being kids were prohibitted and which read something like "GCR" whose full form we didn't know at that time and eventually could find nothing interesting as it was just another "Girls common room"...to.... laughing and asking weird questions at human anatomy classes...we were great together!
Growing up was never a process to us..coz we never came to knw how we grew up so fast...right from famous five to GnR...from fancy dress competitions to walking at farewell ramps...it was fun..and by that i certainly don 't mean we never had a fight...we had...and sometimes bad ones too..but yes, they were never bigger than our yaari-dosti :)
Then on a sunday morning she called me to say she found a guy of 'her kind' with whome she likes just to be with or to be more precisely "faalen in love" with.....that night we partied like anything....played football till 2 in the night...got wet.....went for a drive...ducked parents while returning home in the morning....we'd done evry crazy stuff that was available to us...just to celebrate that one amongst us is no more single!!!
His name was CJ or thats what we used to call him....I'd met him once when we all partied again as CJ cracked AIIMS...was a real time brainy kid....yes, we were happy then for tichhi for CJ and for our dosti....two months passed after CJ went to med school...he used to be upset for not being able to cope up with his studies...and so we all used to cheer him and buck him we knew this was just a passing phase....but things turned out worse....CJ turned out to be a doper...we tried pulling him back from that "mess" of his life...but as fate wanted ..he went deeper and deeper into it....he lost it!
we realised that tichchi shouldnt be with him anymore for he was abusive...irrational and on top of it he was a druggist...
Another sunday morning and another call...it was from tichchy's mom.....that tichchi is hospitalised...i knew what she tried...its just that i din want me to believe that she has actually done what she said to me the night before "babe.. i think il kill myself"....i was sure she was kidding for i knew her not be a fool head....but yes i also knew she was damn into CJ...i went running...saw her resembling the exact color of a white bed sheet she was lying in....when she was up from the comatose...she told me Cj has been caught by police and she was scared!
"scared of what tichchy?" i did ask
"nothing babes..Im just scared"
she returned home ... all friends of ours planned for a trip to mumbai....we went.....had fun...we walked through bandstand...listening to november rain...went to cafe shops....movies theatres....we were the same as we were when CJ wasnt there.
we came back and another downpour waited to wet us all ...... we heard Cj got into an accident and was no more....
for sometime tichchy went blank....she started smoking... doping? I was'nt sure...but yes she wasn't stable.....all our night stays turned out to be a strike process for me and few more of my friends to pull her back from the "mess".....the more we tried ... the more she lost it....somehow we felt she wasnt the same one....or if im not wrong i just failed to understand her anymore...19 years of friendship came crashing in front of me...as she said "You know whats your problem....You are too much practical and too insensitive to understand even your best friend"
those words still shake me like anything....that night i came back at 2 and cried the rest of it in front of my dad...for all i knew that friendship is somthing that i'd never compromised!
another morning...another call.....her second attempt! I'd seen the room where she tried spilitting whatever she wanted...
5 days after, her dad took her someplace out of india..to her masi's place...for she needed treatment....of what.. even i din know.
it was 5th of june when i went to the airport to see her off....as she was checking in she held my hand and said "sorry babes....and..oye,I'll be back"......and she walked.
I couldnt stand there.. for the only person i ever cry to is my dad...as i was walking back to my car ...I turned back just to see her for the last time...but i was unable to...my school indoor games room came flashing into my memory..i ran back!
She did not return till date....occasional call's to uncle and aunty came to seize as i realised for them anything that associated tichchy was not to be kept in touch with....in an age where emails, Im's and fone calls are synonymous to existences..here we are...way far into different worlds. with no connections at all!
Even today when i look at my school ..I see the best of what I had and the worst of what i lost!
but life goes on..maybe someday..somewhere....as we said "right on the roof tops of empire state...we will party...boooz all night and look at the stars".
"Be a writer yaar...what fun is there in driving a car if u compare it to the power of moving emotions".... when i'd taken up engineering ticchy in her casual tone sounded something like that...and so not a whole novel but just a blog for her!
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Wanderer!
And I close my eyes….walking back to the boulevard of broken mirrors. “And yet again” some one says. “Few lines on life?” and I say “no, this time I’m writing not about life but things which are beyond one’s life”
On Sundays my dad prefers not to drive, and since we don’t have a driver it’s usually me who drives him to his destination, to the trust of which he is a member. I finish of my work till he gets over with his. Someday we drive back home over a coffee at local cafés, on other’s if nothing, some jalebi’s are for sure in my kitty. Usually I wait if he happens to take long with his, but this time I preferred a drive towards the old township where I spent my first few years, towards the reminiscence of my childhood.
My father is a government employee, and we spent our early days at the township where he was allotted one of many quarters. A simple two bedroom built up and a shabby porch ‘where our old jalopy used to stay’ was all that we managed with. Neither desired nor required any bit of extra space beyond what we had. Since television wasn’t that big when I was four and with all the more internet being in its nascent stage, most of the colony kids used to spent their post school hours hanging on to the cricket grounds and to each others backyards collecting peaches and mango’s. Sunday Maggie parties, picnics on two wheelers ‘with a bunch of wooden sticks somehow being managed to be tied around the stepney’, cake making and hogging sessions, cycle races around the fence were few of our monthly rituals. One’s birthday party was worth a year awaited! We didn’t have much and we neither craved for, because we all had equal shares. Maybe that’s what we did. We lived equal lives. Nobody bothered to purchase anything that they did not see at their neighbor’s place. More so, nobody had anything worth a showpiece! And there was my first lesson ...”To be happy, money is the least you’ll ever need”
As I drive onto the other side, I see a shattered window, grills already being stolen, a yellowed piece of land that once stood to be a small garden and a half tethered porch, all at a place that used to be my home. “19/A” was all that I could see being repainted in black; rest all seemed to be brutally shaken. I drove a bit farther to my friends place and I see the huge mango tree where we, along with our brothers and sisters used to collect half groomed mango’s... now, it gives nothing but a spooky feeling. Though I won’t say collecting mangos was the thing that taught us to be friends but it taught us something beyond friendship a feeling called togetherness. We used to burn our backs in the scorching heat of April summer, bending on to the grounds in search of the unripe ones and a day’s collection went to the owner’s dining table. Cleaned, washed and eaten later on. No one stole, no one fought. As all knew there’s nothing in them that will differentiate there share. They were equals beyond sex, height, shape and size; they all were children and a true companion to one another, and nothing beyond that. I learnt my second lesson “We don’t need friends, we need true companionship…we bond not to friendship, but we bond to togetherness and to the sense of security”
Today when I see my sister lamenting for her childhood friend, who unknowingly went missing into this big bad world and who also happened to be my childhood big brother, I don’t see friendship and emotions; I just see the innocent longing for togetherness, where one does not think twice to speak her heart out. A desire for that another world where rule one ‘still’ stands to be no pretension, where we belonged together as a team and where we all knew that our team has a broader definition, far from religious bondages it stood for those who desired to be together through thick and thin.
I drove alongside to our play ground, one more of my pal’s place whose main door was stolen and through which I could see the remains of her then living room, to my kinder garten bus stop and simply to the old roads...as I drive in to these half asleep yesteryears, I see each shattered room glowing bright into a different life that I was a part of. “All wanderers aren’t lost”, I fondly remember Tolkein as I take to be one myself. All these bricks stood past 14 years when I was there. No matter how bad they look, these broken windows teach me my last lesson “blood isn’t a necessary requirement for bonding, a past, barren grounds, broken wall’s and a little bit of faith is enough to let one feel the living bond all over again”
On holi day’s iv seen my uncles watering others from roof tops and hogging on to sweets, “durga pujo’s” were something which is inexplicable through words…from howling on to football and cricket world cups at 2 in the night to crying over lost children till the morning light. I’ve seen it all and now after all that I’ve grown to be, I can feel them more. When I drive back leaving my born connections, I take leave from things which I’ll remember all through the coming years… things which will mean beyond my whole life.
I never wished to be there where I was when I was a day old, my old life was a gift from God. Today as I wish a million things ‘almost all being fulfilled’… now that I have more than 2 of everything…. Now, that I no more need to collect mangos. I realize that I had the best gift when I was born and at the end of all’s, I’ll cherish this gift as the gift of my life!
Care is non quantifiable. And if you can, then it’s the least you have ever received.
Its what I learned from everybody, I say everybody as I wasn’t bought up just by my parents, I’m a part of many living souls…some, who no longer come to me with vanilla candies and some who still quiz me fondly with tricky math questions. It wasn’t a lesson, for me, it was an elixir to living….sometimes as deep and intense as an abyss… most of the times an unknown comfort. Even for the dead, I feel remembrance is care. And for the living…It’s what you feel right now!
P.s. some of it is factual. Most of it real….with love and respect for all of them who were a part of it!
On Sundays my dad prefers not to drive, and since we don’t have a driver it’s usually me who drives him to his destination, to the trust of which he is a member. I finish of my work till he gets over with his. Someday we drive back home over a coffee at local cafés, on other’s if nothing, some jalebi’s are for sure in my kitty. Usually I wait if he happens to take long with his, but this time I preferred a drive towards the old township where I spent my first few years, towards the reminiscence of my childhood.
My father is a government employee, and we spent our early days at the township where he was allotted one of many quarters. A simple two bedroom built up and a shabby porch ‘where our old jalopy used to stay’ was all that we managed with. Neither desired nor required any bit of extra space beyond what we had. Since television wasn’t that big when I was four and with all the more internet being in its nascent stage, most of the colony kids used to spent their post school hours hanging on to the cricket grounds and to each others backyards collecting peaches and mango’s. Sunday Maggie parties, picnics on two wheelers ‘with a bunch of wooden sticks somehow being managed to be tied around the stepney’, cake making and hogging sessions, cycle races around the fence were few of our monthly rituals. One’s birthday party was worth a year awaited! We didn’t have much and we neither craved for, because we all had equal shares. Maybe that’s what we did. We lived equal lives. Nobody bothered to purchase anything that they did not see at their neighbor’s place. More so, nobody had anything worth a showpiece! And there was my first lesson ...”To be happy, money is the least you’ll ever need”
As I drive onto the other side, I see a shattered window, grills already being stolen, a yellowed piece of land that once stood to be a small garden and a half tethered porch, all at a place that used to be my home. “19/A” was all that I could see being repainted in black; rest all seemed to be brutally shaken. I drove a bit farther to my friends place and I see the huge mango tree where we, along with our brothers and sisters used to collect half groomed mango’s... now, it gives nothing but a spooky feeling. Though I won’t say collecting mangos was the thing that taught us to be friends but it taught us something beyond friendship a feeling called togetherness. We used to burn our backs in the scorching heat of April summer, bending on to the grounds in search of the unripe ones and a day’s collection went to the owner’s dining table. Cleaned, washed and eaten later on. No one stole, no one fought. As all knew there’s nothing in them that will differentiate there share. They were equals beyond sex, height, shape and size; they all were children and a true companion to one another, and nothing beyond that. I learnt my second lesson “We don’t need friends, we need true companionship…we bond not to friendship, but we bond to togetherness and to the sense of security”
Today when I see my sister lamenting for her childhood friend, who unknowingly went missing into this big bad world and who also happened to be my childhood big brother, I don’t see friendship and emotions; I just see the innocent longing for togetherness, where one does not think twice to speak her heart out. A desire for that another world where rule one ‘still’ stands to be no pretension, where we belonged together as a team and where we all knew that our team has a broader definition, far from religious bondages it stood for those who desired to be together through thick and thin.
I drove alongside to our play ground, one more of my pal’s place whose main door was stolen and through which I could see the remains of her then living room, to my kinder garten bus stop and simply to the old roads...as I drive in to these half asleep yesteryears, I see each shattered room glowing bright into a different life that I was a part of. “All wanderers aren’t lost”, I fondly remember Tolkein as I take to be one myself. All these bricks stood past 14 years when I was there. No matter how bad they look, these broken windows teach me my last lesson “blood isn’t a necessary requirement for bonding, a past, barren grounds, broken wall’s and a little bit of faith is enough to let one feel the living bond all over again”
On holi day’s iv seen my uncles watering others from roof tops and hogging on to sweets, “durga pujo’s” were something which is inexplicable through words…from howling on to football and cricket world cups at 2 in the night to crying over lost children till the morning light. I’ve seen it all and now after all that I’ve grown to be, I can feel them more. When I drive back leaving my born connections, I take leave from things which I’ll remember all through the coming years… things which will mean beyond my whole life.
I never wished to be there where I was when I was a day old, my old life was a gift from God. Today as I wish a million things ‘almost all being fulfilled’… now that I have more than 2 of everything…. Now, that I no more need to collect mangos. I realize that I had the best gift when I was born and at the end of all’s, I’ll cherish this gift as the gift of my life!
Care is non quantifiable. And if you can, then it’s the least you have ever received.
Its what I learned from everybody, I say everybody as I wasn’t bought up just by my parents, I’m a part of many living souls…some, who no longer come to me with vanilla candies and some who still quiz me fondly with tricky math questions. It wasn’t a lesson, for me, it was an elixir to living….sometimes as deep and intense as an abyss… most of the times an unknown comfort. Even for the dead, I feel remembrance is care. And for the living…It’s what you feel right now!
P.s. some of it is factual. Most of it real….with love and respect for all of them who were a part of it!
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