.....And they say, You have it all

There are two sets of world to each of us, One which is determined by people around us and the other which connects to ourselves. Our soul. Few have the strength to live equally in these two parallel worlds. and few carry the incubus of living both these dimensions into one. In my capability I dont know how people can live parallel lives for as far as I know I'v been on the other side of the fence always.

Today Im writting this blog about this person in my life. because he has been the only one to teach me how it is when every single thing around you changes to opposite. To teach not by classes, but by examples. To teach not whether its bad or good but that its just a change.


Flashback....


I was five years old and we were supposed to change our home, my favourite time of the day used to be when he used to bring me back from school. I used to stand in front of his scooter feeling the wind blow my face... as soon as the scooter halted I used to jump and run to the backyard of my then house, to see how many unripe mangoes fell from the huge mango tree we had. someday he used to come with me to see how many i get, someday he used to get inside do his chores till i return with my collection.
That day as i returned with a handful of mangoes all sweaty and smiley he took all of them putting them in our mango jar and said

"Lets go out and collect few more"

I was more than happy to do so.
as we searched for me he kept talking of how other trees than mango are better since they can be well maintained... and after each of his sentence I repeated
"but my mango tree is the best"

after collecting almost a bagful, he called me and said

"that from tomorrow there would be no mango tree. from tomorrow we will live in a new place. but it would be better since il have many friends their to play with"

after listening to all the good things il have there, it was okay for me to go and live at this new place. next afternoon we were scheduled to pack finally and leave.
from morning till the last doors were closed i was in my backyard collecting mango's and he didnt stop me. as we were going i asked him if we can take this mango tree with us.....

"we will plant another mango tree there, if we take this tree...all other tree's will cry"
I know its kiddish, but he said this because iv never been very intelligent about understanding logic when it comes to my favourite things. and he knew it.

He knew how difficult it was for me to leave the best part of my day all together. It might have meant nothing to my sister or to my mother, but it meant it to me and at no point he disrespected it or made a mockery of it. he just showed me the better things ahead keeping the good old memories alive.


That was the first change of my life as I remember. and he made me learn that change has no definition of good or bad. no matter how exciting it seems... you will always feel bad for your memories of the past.


Sometime back...

My sister just got married and we all went to say our final goodbyes to her at the station. It was okay for me till the train pulled on. as I saw her waving at all of us, I waved back rigorously so that she could see me till very far off. and I kept watching, slowly the crowd around us scattered and after sometime I could no more see that train.

for 5 seconds my world stopped. standing right there my eyes filled with tears and i started crying. for just one reason. that the person who right from the day i was born took all my faults on her so that i dont get the scolding, who invariably was the first person to say "take mine" when i was short of things and she equally needed, who without even a second thought always offered the bigger portion of the chocolate was gone far away. I dont know what made me think that never will we be together again.

seeing me crying, he held my shoulders and said
"she isnt going too far, you both will be together in the same place... dont worry"

not knowing what other hundreds standing in the station would be thinking of me i just turned looking at him without saying a word and my tears didnt stop for a long long time.

This was the second biggest change of my life and he was just the same as he was when i was five. letting me know how it is to have faith in ones unknown future. more than me, he was heartbroken to see my sister go, but I was incapable of judging its weight at that time. Today when i recollect that day, I know its never easy to let go your people just as it is never easy to forget your favourites. all you have to do is to hope that with all that you are left with you can create the same world that you cherished.

Today...

After two days I would be leaving this city. I would be leaving everything that was my life for the past 22 years of my life. and more than that I would be leaving that man, who no matter what came and went was always there to make my change better for me. Be it my mango tree, My school, My college or My sister leaving. He was always there to take all that burden, that pain far away from me.
he knew I'm incapable of living that parallel life. I'm incapable of separating things with people, I'm incapable of accepting change fast but at no point of time he made me realize that I'm the less fortunate one than those who can accept change, think positive and embrace future. At no point of time he made me realize that sometimes all you have got is yourself and nobody else. because everything that changed with time, everything that needed a definition of good or bad, everything that left me with no support was never there in my life. He was the pseudo self i had to take all these things upon himself and let me be free.

Im being free again. but such is the irony that this freedom is the least i ever wanted because that "pseudo self" of mine would be no more with me. By now you all would have known that he is my father. and no matter how less fortunate I have been I feel the biggest blessing I ever had is to have him to be my morpheous.

I Know everybody's father is a mentor, everybody's father is the one who distinguishes between good or bad, everybody's father is a support
but not every father would have cared for something as insignificant as a backyard mango tree. not every father would have known how to comfort when you have done the worst blunder of your life and you cannot confess. not every father would have cared enough to say when you are about to go for your job

"always remember Im here, i wont mind if you return without earning a penny"


Maybe I have gone overboard to write about him, but this is it. since it would be long time when il write another one i guess i just wish to end it for the near future with the best i ever had. Although teaching me every big lesson in my life, he never taught me to live the way usually people do. how to separate things and situations from people and emotions.I dont know why,

may be with all the dynamic change that happens in one life, he never wished to change me the way I am.



Maybe he knew the biggest gift he can give me is to let me be 'me'....

One amongst Us....

There was a huge crowd..the one that Iv never seen anywhere. People were bustling like anything..here and there. since it was all very new for me, all this over the top enthusiasm. I was getting uncomfortable. seeing me that way. she came up,

"So why you getting all this nervous?"

I: "nervous| who me?, No way"( the conversation was in Bengali and certainly with a very kiddish tone)

Still she not being so convinced, sat besides me. and right from the beginning till then end, when finally everyone was damn tired and very ready to get back to their homes she was there. Must say her patience....Whoof!

But then nobody expected me to behave like her. as I was way younger than her. and she was like Oprah, the perfect hostess anytime and anywhere :)

Well, this was my 5th Birthday, and I start by this since its the farthest memory i share with her. Anyway, as far as I remember, Iv always been very irritative with people who are not of my kind. so one fine morning

This guy turns up at my place, wanting to play with me since he was our neighbor. as usual, a born snob I was. I horridly declined stating something like

"I don't play with those, whose skin is of darker shade than mine :P"

He ran, as fast as he could right back to his home, crying all the way.

and there she was eying me like a dinosaur about to eat his pray ( Im sure i must have thought a better comparison, since in no way i would know the word dinosaur when i was 5). slowly i dared walking towards her

"Sorry :P"

She stared for 5 minutes, so bad that I should have buried myself right under the floor where I was standing, but then as I was a born snob, I was also a born "I don't care for your anger" girl too :P. somehow she managed to control her anger and moved to her studies,

Yes she was studying at that time, and she used to be funny when she studied..sometimes she even barged into my cerelac cookies when she used be hungry :) without even considering that the stuff is supposed to be eaten only by kids till 6.

anyway, we were on even terms..she used to ignore my snobbish attitude, my morning wake up tantrums and yah sometimes the 'Im the queen' attitude too, but then I also okayed her, eating up my cookies, sleeping on sofa and showing anger by staring attitude.

Life was cool for us, ya sometimes she had the upper hand for being elder to me, but then she was okay if I instructed how I want my bread with honey and how she should not put on weight stuff.

Then after few years, I could see her getting tired, as she used to help my dad in building our house, she used to wake at 5, do some of her work and return home late. I used to get real angry for she had no time for playing checkers and watching tom and jerry. so I befriended that "dark skinned boy from my neighborhood"
I must have said something like

"I have changed my mind about you, you still want to play"

and boy he was game :P

Now all that playing checkers and watching tom and jerry changed for cricket, football and carom. Life changed, I changed. And I changed a lot. now I no more used to get angry as she wasn't around me, I started caring less for her.... every night when dad used to switch off our bedroom light, she used to come close to me and ask me abt how I spent my day, did I still call that boy as dark skinned?? and my answer was always yes. ... she waited long enough to listen to me but she used to be so tired that almost every night while i used to be in the middle of my conversation she used to doze off...and I used to be like...

"what a friend..cant even listen to me properly"

But then I knew, she promised me that she would go and keep an eye on dad whether he is keeping my bedroom of pink colour or not.....so as I said, we used to be on even terms....but just till few years back when she scored more points than me.

I was in my high school... I had flunked badly in one of my maths paper for the day before the exam I and that dark skinned boy ( who turned out to be my best friend till then) were playing finals for a football tournament. By then we were in our new house, my room was repainted from pink to blue, She joined as a teacher in some school for some handy cash so we had lesser time to spend together, a lot many things changed along with our night chatting rituals too, in which she invariably used to fall asleep while I used to be in the middle of my day story...
but then she used to get me anything I wanted with her earned money so as said "even terms".
That day, I returned from my school, she was sleeping on sofa i woke her up and dared to mumble

" I flunked, I flunked my maths paper"

she was barely awake...she sat down, absorbing what i said, then saying

" but I thought I taught u everything didn't I?"

I was sure she will blast out like a furnace anytime or in the least will grave me with her disastrous eying ritual, but she dint. In fact she didn't even look at me, she looked on to the floor, may be searching for some words and said

" I must have left few things which came into ur paper, Im sorry"

I stood staring point blank at her for a long long time, tears rolled down my eyes
I started crying, mumbling things like its not her fault in fact its my fault that i did not study and that i played. But I knew the damage was done, My best friend was hurt. that evening i didnt have the nerves to go to play, so my best friend no.2 (the dark skinned boy) came to look up.....looking at me he knew something has gone damn wrong.

as he stood staring weirdly at me I asked

"did u fail in any of ur papers anytime?"

He: "ya once i did, dad was like a house on fire...he screamed on me like anything"

and i cried more, maybe i wanted her to react the same way. but she dint. she simply took everything on herself, all the guilt, all the carelessness and the irresponsibility.
Just everything.


From high school I went to college, she went on to be more tired because of her busy working schedule. but the day she scored more points than me, i pledged that i want back our lives to be on "even terms" again. So after she used to finish all her work....we used to often go for drives, coffee shops, movies, book stores everywhere that we relaxed the most. sometimes we even chatted long hours about stuffs like career, future and guys. One of these very chats led me to ask her

" why do you spend all you money on me, don't you wanna shop for yourself, anytime?"

I don't know what was so funny in that question, she just laughed for a long time and said....

" May be I just like it"


that night I thought that right from the moment I was 5 she did everything that made me happy...be it sitting by my side for 4 hours just because I don like crowds when I was just five, or looking after my desire to make my room pink, from getting me every single stuff on earth ... to sit back and take all my guilt. Be it maths paper or heart breaks. She did it. and "Simply" because she liked it?

No she did all of this so that not even for a single day, I regret my life.

And of all these 22 years of my life I could hardly remember once or twice that I did anything for her, that made her feel special.



I wonder how many of us have such friends for lifetime, how many of us can learn to know that some people live for others all their lives.

and as I said, We love to be on "even terms", so this blog is for her, My first best friend for my life. this may not be that good, since i didn't have the guts to write all those horrible things i did in my life to make her miserable, but this is from my heart. and I hope if someday, she learns to love surfing internet she would know....that I would still love to watch tom and jerry for hours with her, I would still love if she won playing checkers with me, I would still love to chat nonstop every night, even if she dozed real early

and someday just like her I would love to be a best friend for life first and a mom later.

The day I learnt its Independence Day.

It was the year of 1991, I was in my KG. We were more than hundred buzzing in for our 19th annual day celebration which coincidentally fell on the 15th of august as well. I was in a group song, not because i did sing well, in fact i still sing pathetic. but just because my best friend was also in the same group( fortunately she is an ace singer). so all through the practice i was more interested for the fun part than singing part. finally the D day arrived and it was the performance time. we had to make a flag standing up on the benches wearing tri coloured uniforms. as i was being dressed up i asked my mom, who i'm sure would have been equally excited for my life's first stage performance.

I : "I don't want to wear that orange dress i want to wear white"
Ma : No orange is good, see you'll make the top part of our country flag. Feel proud.
I : Why feel proud?
Ma : Because its Independence Day

and just when i wanted to throw the next set of questions to her, we were hurried towards the back stage for next was our turn. by then i was a guru for all my folks. I knew three big big things. A word like "independence day", something for which i should be very proud and that il stand at the top floor. Why, well I din bother much abt it till the end of my performance.

We stood still, the stage would be enlightened in a short while and then the music will start, since we were the last to perform we had to sing two songs. one which was very happy and rhythmic and the other which we used to call national anthem. but that wasn't interesting to me as we had to stand straight and sing very stiff. suddenly the stage glowed bright and we started, I started enjoying all the celebrity sort of moment. a huge crowed looking at us, flood lights focused on us and being on the top, i felt i have something special. I could see even the last row of the crowd. we finished, the whole crowed bursted into clapping, By then that celebrity feeling turned out to be a Diva feeling, as if rest 40 kids were invisible and I was the only one who has sung the whole song. My smiley face was not coming to its normalcy when my best friend poked me from side..

Meenal: Stop smiling Dumbo, next we have to sing the national anthem. stand straight.
I: (Still in my euphoria), Yaya I know, don't worry I wont mess it up. But why do we have to sing national anthem at all?
Meenal: thats because today is independence day and we will show our respect to our country by singing it.

Ooops!! My guru feeling and Diva feeling suddenly collapsed. Now even she knew something called Independence day and more disastrous she knew the reason why we sing the National anthem. anyhow with wounded ego i sang Jana Gana Mana.
but right in the middle of this confusion of singing it, not liking it and not being a guru anymore. I had one question. Why do we have to celebrate Independence day at all, or for that matter why do we have to sing anthem for our country. I was clueless. just as we finished.
there was a shower of confetti on, more than 50 fire crackers bursted outside, every single person stood cheering and clapping for us. that "Diva" feeling was magnified n number of times.I felt as if I was on the top of the world and I have sung the National anthem on behalf of the whole country.

To me all that happy happy feel, that lighting, those thunderous applause and that standing ovation, was my definition of being proud, my definition of Independence day. Thats how it went on 15th august 1991, the day I learnt its independence day.

Since then every year 15th august to me was the day when i could feel proud of me for no reason, for just being an Indian. how easily God gives us a reason to feel proud for belonging to ones country. Years rolled by, with each year life gave me much more stronger reason to feel proud, and with each reason there came innumerable responsibilities that i was being given for my country. from keeping it clean to doing good in sports to studies to everything. beyond everything there was one basic reason that was fortunately imbibed into me on that very day in the year of 1991. that whatever I'm doing, somewhere I'm doing it to make my country proud.

......

Its the year 2008, the first msg i read on my cell fone is a congratulations from my friend for Bindra winning the gold in Olympics. for that instant no extraordinary feeling grappled me. I was happy but pretty easy with it.
To me nothing changed, the whole day i was oscillating from writing articles to my java classes. I returned home late and after dinner felt like surfing on to TV channels.
My parents were already asleep, so its volume was pretty low. Olympics being on roll, i stilled on to some sports channel which was showing Bindra shooting his 10m range. although i wasn't that interested into his accuracy and clicking technique i left it running. At the end of 5 minutes, he was declared the recipient of gold in Olympics. I increased my TV volume to a little more, thinking if it would wake my parents. as the ceremony proceeded

The TV channel showed the victory ceremony.after the runners up being sang for it was my country's turn

" And now for the 10m shooting range, Gold, India. The Indian national anthem"
the moment those words were said. i increased my TV volume to 15 and I stood up. My national anthem was being sung, My flag was being hosted and across the globe at least a million people were giving a standing ovation to my country. just because one amongst us did achieve to accomplish his responsibility.

That same responsibility which i felt year after year every independence day, that same responsibility for which more than 10,000 soldiers die, that responsibility which first triggered my inquisitiveness to know how it feels to be proud when i was just 5. I could see the same glitter in Bindra's eyes, may be a million times more in magnitude of what i felt 17 years back.

everything done, the sports channel came back to its routine telecast. and I realized. probably my house was the loudest on my street, my parents sleeping inside and I'm standing in the middle of my dining room. With no confetti shower, no beaming lights, no thunderous applause I felt the feeling of being proud. The same one, which I felt years back, kiddish and unknown that I belong to my country. I turned off the television and went to sleep.




I just couldn't stop smiling.I text msgd my best friend

"Bindra won gold. watched the victory ceremony. felt same like standing on the top floor making the orange of our flag :)"


after few minutes her reply was

"Same here :)"




P.s. In the picture I'm fourth from top left, with my head swinging the most I'm sure I enjoyed like hell :P, Meenal is just left to me.

BlindFolded

Sometimes a long road reminds me of my past, my good times, my bad times. Times where iv lost hope, times where hope was the only thing that kept me hanging. and just when i start my walk back home, I feel I'm turning my back to everything that life offered me.

One of my school chums dad gotta new car recently, so after loads of "no's" and "il see's" I got hold of it for a short morning drive. fortunately there are roads in my city which are completely empty in wee hours. which are just half hour drive, you stop, stand in front of your car look at the long road and just think. I know not many of us do that and I'm pretty okay if you say I'm nuts and I have lots of time for this "stuff".

Agreed. Iv always had lots of time for myself. So this time no packed coffees, no November rain and no friends to hang along. it was just me and the nothingness in me that i was carrying. Have you ever realised that when you look at something which has no finish line, you just want to move a little ahead and see where it is.

during your school days we all used to cross that extra line to see how our friends scored in their paper, during college who's with whom...who is going for which company...who is in for the new project,presentations, everything. we have always wished to cross that extra line for no reason. I could not see the end of that road, but unlike all other times I didn't wish to drive a little bit ahead and find out. I just stood still and felt bad. how can someone describe a certain feeling which hasn't been named. I was feeling bad for my short lived good time. times when I used to stand up for my friends....time when I used to stand up for myself. Have I become so ordinary?

This was sometime exactly one year at past. It was my birthday. everyone I wished to be was there at my place celebrating my birthday. only i wasn't there

I was in my coaching class...preparing for an exam which I wasn't sure to appear for. as my class got over I confessed to my friend my disliking of being somewhere half hearted

"see you've got to sacrifice somethings" was her answer

I just shook my head in disgrace knowing that I wasn't sure how badly i need any sacrifice, I reached home...all were banging on me with everything that they had, wished me all the good things and the party started. me and one of my very close friend sat on the front porch and the conversation went something like this

Him: so where were you all this time??

I: class yaar, for MBA.

Him: MBA? but i thought you were ...( I dint let him complete)

I: yaya, now don't start that again....see lets face the fact, I'm no genius that any auto maker will just invite me to work for them. and more so less opportunities....blah blah..u know na...MBA will be okay for me i guess

Him: nodded his head

( we sat silently for a long time...or guess to me the time was longer)

Him: You know what...May be you are right.., you should do MBA, You know after all managerial job....good money...a comfortable life and yah most importantly you would plan everything..you know like say if you get into HR you'll manage people..you will hire them throw them out..or for say in marketing...making business plans...market surveys...whats right whats wrong...money building.....great...it will be a good job for you...after all every second guy is doing it.

And he walked inside. I was silent, for i know this is exactly what i never wanted to do. this is exactly what I never felt like doing. I never wanted to be the one to know which car is economical or which car sells better, I just wanted to make one, I just wanted to design one, see it flying into a straight long road with its perfect air fleet body and just the right kind of wheels. I just wanted to feel how it feels to get into something that is completely yours.

A loud noise thronged inside my ear to rip me apart, I jerked up only to see. I'm standing in the middle of the road, doing nothing. a truck pulled aside and honked his horns I don't know for how many times. I pulled my wheels a little aside and sat watching the truck pass by, may be the same way all those important moments which would have changed me passed by and i failed to see them.

I saw that empty road for the last time, this time no memories, no flash back just one question.....Am i really that ordinary? Am i just like another second guy??

I drove back, with that very feeling multiplying innumerable times.so many times that i lost count. A feeling of guilt, a feeling of failure, a feeling of loosing something. i came back home, punched hard my computer and wrote an email to my friend telling him, that yes he was right, may be this is what i am just like any other second guy, doing what others doing and not what iv dreamt off. But how possibly you could know that there might be bigger problems which led me to chose this as an option. but thanks for making me feel that I'm no good.

I did not realise one thing, that may be by now he would have forgotten that conversation and would find no clue as to why I'm writing him such a pathetic mail. Two days passed and he replied. as i read his name in my inbox name folder, i was uncomfortable, I knew he would be angry for iv written it real bad. fortunately or unfortunately it read something like this

"I know for everybody things don't turn up the right way, but didn't we see it this way when we were young to fight back when the ball isn't with our defender. Football, yes but no joke this time. You might have priorities which compelled you to chose your options. but tomorrow when things would be fine I want to see you flying in your so called "wheels". regardless of what you are, how you age and what you do. trust me, you can be anything but ordinary."

I sat shocked. How could he know me that much, how could he chose to write the right words. But then again, that's what friends are for. May be he was waiting for this email of mine so that he could tel me, that time never runs out for all those who wish to reach for the finish line.

"It has to be something in the shade of grey, a particular grey, neither too flashy not too subdue. It will have a perfect A lined, air fleet body with wheel propellers and yah important important disk brakes. just wish they come into production line till then, then yah....bubble tyres, fin lines just the way it is with the Mustang Shelby. A perfect speed convertible"

That is how I used to talk, when I used to believe in my dreams. just like every time I hope one day il drive to some long road, halt, sit back and believe that I'm anything but ordinary.

A Lifetime Of Serendipty....

“Note: for all those who haven’t seen the movie “the lake house”. It’s a movie about a beautiful house where time stops, where the owner of the house has the liberty to live with people from future and past. To some whom he hasn’t met. It’s a house where one person waits for years, just to find his love from future come to him at the lake house”




Have you seen The Lake house, it’s a movie about time lap, two people who love each other, but who live apart because of time. One lives in the year of 98 and the other in the year of 2000. But they finally meet when one waits for the other. I don’t know if anything like that exists, but every time I watch that movie I feel a connection, to what I’m still amused. May be that I believe in serendipity. May be that someday, I believe, that I’ll see the magic of abstract destiny.

It happened so many times with me, I’ve been places for the first time and I feel that I’ve been here before. And every time I try and explain it to somebody. I know their strange giggles behind their “it happens, sometimes”. Yes it does and how else can I explain that one has to believe in it to make it happen. On 30th of April this year, I was standing at the backside of my college building, vast lands of yellowed grasses and mountains all over. A small muddy road stretched between those grasses. Where, I don’t know, But as I was watching just the sky and the nothingness around. I had the feeling that may be someday I’ll come back, stand right at this place and watch the sky. I was frantically looking for one clue around that gave me this feeling. But guess I couldn’t find any, I wanted to walk that disheveled road that went behind somewhere and as I started to walk, I was called up

“Hey come back, we gotta go…baad me dekhlena(see it later)”

I turned back looking at my friend for a long time and I smiled. As I looked at that road, probably for the last time in my near future. I knew that I’ll come back. And I have no answer why.

Not this time, my old home, my school canteen, my best friend’s farmhouse, and the last metro station at Calcutta are all those places which gave me the same feeling. The feeling of serendipity as it gave me sheer happiness with no reason, that one feeling that maybe I’ll return here one day long after I’ve left this place. As was it with the lake house, few walls of glasses that separated time… I feel these places are separated from me with those invisible walls of glasses. I’ve read that sometimes the most insignificant person in your life is the most important one, and that you never really come to know unless you believe that each have some motive to be with you.



That summer I was traveling from my hometown to Bombay, the first time I was traveling alone. My friends dropped me to the station as my parents were at someplace else as they bid me goodbye I see an old man coming towards my coupe, he took his seat in front of me. Surprisingly there weren’t anybody else to share the rest three births. As the journey is long and me being a first timer, it took me sometime to be okay with traveling alone. Slowly I and uncle started talking; he told me how he traveled to far places when he was young, to his expeditions at various army bases where he was stationed as a medical officer. He told me how sun shines orange at rohtangpass and the same sun shines dull golden at the Calcutta docks. I smiled, for just like people of our age he was excited to tell me where he went what he did. He was excited to show me the world from his eyes. He told me how does Lake Geneva looks before the morning sun and more interestingly how does an aurora feel. I jumped up

“Aurora??? You have seen an aurora??”

And with dim eyes he said

“It’s not a thing to see kid; it’s a thing to feel”

I was super excited. As everything that he told was new and interesting to me. As time passed he took a small pic from his wallet in which he and his younger son were standing on a bark in between a lake. And proudly he said

“That’s Dal Lake where my son was posted few years back”

We kept on talking of things that I’ve never heard. Of things like why the Cambridge national park is so beautiful and how does in northern California, all park benches are a memorial to some or the other martyr. He told me that when u take a boat ride at lake placid and sail to its middle and sit there till middle of the night u see electric fishes gathering near your boat, just to make you believe that you are not alone.
I smiled again, all he said I had never heard before. We spoke till it was almost 11 in the night and then went to sleep for he was old and couldn’t sit anymore.
I lay awake and I dreamt of everything he has just told, suddenly I wished to see everything what he said…at that time it would have been just another fantasy dream of a teenaged girl…but till today, I dream of all those places, I dream of watching the constellation Orion right in the middle of an ice skating rink.
It was morning 7 and I’d just woken up with all the hustle around. Uncle was packing all his stuff, his station arrived … as I managed to open up my groggy eyes he said with a glint

“So kid, morning (typical army style)

I smiled and said “you leaving uncle?”

He stood with his baggage turned around and said

“Don’t forget to watch lake placid” and he de-boarded the train

I kept watching him through the window, his family came to receive him and he went. And I had the same feeling, feeling that iv known this person way before than yesterday.
Train moved and I kept thinking of all that he said.



I realized in those few hours, a complete stranger, way much older than me and whose name I hardly remember… made me realize that how much I would like to find park benches, how much I would love to travel.

How at eleven in the night, when the world was busy sleeping I met a person who gifted my dream of a life time.

And till today, whenever the day goes bad. Or something happens which I’d never wanted to. I dream the same dream, me sitting on a boat right in the middle of a lake with electric fishes around me…suddenly the water glows the colour of light blue, I look up and I see… the aurora. I see god turn on his lamp shed J

“That happens when god turns on his lamp shed” that was his definition to aurora with a grand smile.


There might be nobody waiting for me to meet him someday, there might be no more places where I’ll feel that I’ve been here before, there might be no more serendipities and there might be no another dream like that. But of all that I’ve experienced I’ve learnt that I’ll never stop believing in a magic.

May be someday someone will prove me right and make me believe that the very Lake Geneva is waiting for me. May be someday, long after I’ve left my hometown, I’ll come back to my college stand at the same place and watch the sky. May be someday I’ll get to see behind that invisible glass wall.

And how I wish, my life to be my lake house… where time stops, where magic comes true.


How I wish to meet a life time of serendipity.

The good, The better and The best

Note: Some of it fiction, Most of it real.with love and affection for one of my best friend.

"I had just learnt cycling, wheels used to facinate me, she was holding my seat and I was shouting almost screaming...

"chodna mat...chodna mat I'l fall, I'l fall"

she was equally excited, screaming louder "tu dar mat, im not leaving it, you wont fall"

I tried balancing, and she was running behind me holding my cycle... i cycled more and more, and slowly i could hear her no more. I kept cycling harder and harder, so far so good. and then when I was done with my excitement of cycling for the first time, I realised iv comedown to some different lane, I suddenly stopped, hanking and sweltering knowing that I'm lost. I looked back...to see if she is still coming, I left her behind...somwhere in my own happiness I forgot that she was running all behind me....I kept looking at the empty road .barren. lonely for a long time and there I see... with long hairs almost toggling her waist, there she was running at full blast... waving her hand shouting "wait..Im coming, Im coming" ...... ""

Well that was monai. yes indeed the name is enough for all those who knw her, but all those who dont letme introduce...

It is said, there are three parts to every soul. one that lives within you, one which is owned by your life partner and one which is with that unknown person, whom you may or may not meet in your lifetime. but whose every prayer, every luck, every success has your share. I'm not sure how many of you have had the luck to meet ur third share, but letme tel you how it is when you actually do.

our school busses used to gather around a big mahogany tree, since we both were frm different schools our timings never clashed, while she was somehow making it to the bus stop, i used to enjoy the freedom to sleep till ten for being in the aftrenoon shift. our interests, choice of food, choice of dresses, almost choice of everything on this planet earth somehow differed or rather more decently were diametrically opposite :) so one fineday I was supposed to go for my school picninc and thats why had to slogup at 7 in the morning. as i somehow reached the busstop i saw monai with her morning slumber waving me a sweet simple hi, and then with a sudden strange reaction turned exactly opposite took up a stone(as if she will throw at me), started carving something at the mahogany bark. everytime i went close to see what the hell she intended to do, with a disgusting look she pushed me back and poor me already half asleep used to fly so back from her push that hardly could maki it the second time to see what she was doing, im sure i would have said

"poor mahogany, had to deal with this mad girl that too 7 in the morning"

her bus arrived she threw the stone and without looking once at me boarded the bus.

"whatta snob(certainly sure was my reaction)"

since she was no where in sight, i went close to see what she did and i read

"jui's first moarning bus... goodmoarning goodmoarning.....7 septembur"

well that was her when she was 4, weird and unpredictable!

I laughed and laughed, and i even saw that while i was returning from my picninc that day. something made me happy, may be just the feeling that you were important to someone. may be just to know that someone bothered to know ur firsts and lasts. time rolled on... we grew up, as like the mahagony tree, our dosti went stronger and stronger. even when we were not sure that we are something called "friends" we knew, that we had to be together when we are scared, why was not our problem neither we thought of it. we simply knew it!

this was 2nd december 1992 during the babri masjid riots, since we used to live at the corner most bhel quarter, we were suggested to stay with some other family those who are more inside the colony, our first choice was with monai's family....We both sat still not knowing what is happening, why people are being killed...as we were dressing up our barbies she being her looked strange at me and asked

"jui muslims are killing kisko?"

I being the better nerd answered

"i think muslims are killing muslims only (i dint knw the word hindu existed then :))"

she looked at me for a long time, then took up her barbie and started weeping. I kept on asking "what happend? telme telme"

and there she was

"if my barbie would have been a muslim they would kill her also?"

and i sighed feeling sorry for the great theory of "muslims killing muslims" which i deviced...

but that was monai when she was 6, sensitive and caring"

life moved on, with innumerable memories of us being together. we had fights, sometimes such that really worried me whether we will talk again or not, but with all the faith in my heart i somehow realised that even if i get lowest in my math class, even if say a million "katti's", even if i break her kitchen set...she will always remain my friend.....these very questions changed with time and today with all the faith in my heart i knw that even if i fail to achieve what i want, even if i do things that are unforgivable, even when il sound the most unrealistic person on the earth...she will always be with me...she will always believe in my dreams...she being her will always say "im there"

In no time she would be moving to a differnt city, to make her dream a reality and as the time falls short we decided that today we will sit and just talk. our time passed like anything...with evry single word i wanted to tell her that she was my second sister or rather god friend...just like people have god mothers and fathers...guess I was blessed with one extra god friend who being the most practical person still understands how it feels when heart breaks...who just calls to ask

"tu theek to hai aaj"

who out of nowhere will bang into your house with a big Hiiiiiiii..... and will gift you with little little gifts just to see your expression to surpises :)

who will at 3 in the night with droopy eyes, will cook awesome food just to see if you aint hungry

who at every step, whether you are wrong or right...whether you are good or bad...whether you are sad or happy will stand by you and say

"im there, im always there"

well that was monai at 20, charming and emotional, practical and strong. daring and happy. yes that was her a bundle of extreme opposites, just like how u bunch a million multicoloured flowers together with one big red ribbon.

as we met somewhere out for our so called last treat together, time swooshed away like anything...i could see the glitter in her eyes for she is moving out.....to a brand new city, a brand new college....for she was finally going to achieve her dream...i wanted to talk and talk and talk...but it came to an end.....just like everything our "fun" had to end...and today was its begining...as she drove off...i felt like running behind her ...just like she did behind my cycle......keeping the hope that she might go into unknown places...bigger cities...empty roads and find no one....if she turns back .... she would see me..,,,guess i just wanted to tell her that if someday she is lost her best friend is there.

as she went today I questioned probably for the first time to God...why did you send her that day running after my bycycle....for i knw.....evrytime il be lost.....il turn back just to see if she is there.....and il find no one.

well thats how you feel when u meet your third part .....way before you actually knw... you misplace it into the lost crowds.

"kahe senti, chal yaar this time had to come, and more so just think it will be so fun when we will tapofy guys those who are not bhopalis....soch to zara kitna fun hoga and baaki sabka load mat le...im there na"

will this is monai at 21.... the good,the better ...the best dosti one can ever share :)

P.s. Cheers to the night out at ur roof top, our aish at my sisters wedding...our tapofy frustations after all those "ahem ahem" objectionable disasters..and finally to that citycenter potato whatever that was :P ...cheers to everything.....cheers to our life budy :)

Jealous of the Jordan in me......

Note: “‘Jealous of the Jordan in me’ is a usual caption used by basket ball players, a mockery to demoralize the opposite team by signifying as if the spirit of Michael Jordan has been bestowed on the speaker, as basket ball being the game more of high spirits and tricks than rules. The language of this blog is rough, as it is unedited on certain circumstances”

Never Lose!!
This was the long forgotten Tee shirt caption, one of my uncles used to wear and as like always I perked up

"Never lose what??"
"Never lose on your self" :) his anytime and anywhere ready made chuckle....all that I did see then...and did not realize what he said!

I was so young that school, fights, basket ball practice and bike rides made my life complete. Guess I didn’t desire for anything more...as I hardly could find time for doing anything else, life moved on from ground floor to the roof top and while I was at the threshold to cross each staircase I had an interaction with what one calls as "Never Lose" or to be more precise "Never Lose on yourself"



“That Game”
2002 New Delhi, at the south Delhi stadium (Carmel)

We were scheduled for the first match with chandigarh...

“Those fat holes...Gawd they don just slam-dunk they literally slam bunk, bunk and bunk!!!!...as in these guys are worth all the space on earth for cheese, butter and every damn fattening thing. How can they play and that too so damn good"

I exactly remember the conversation coz one weirdo desired to record it with her being the only cell phone on board :)"

"That game" started.....with 5 of chandigarh girls equating each one of them to two, we were like those small insignificant bumble bee's who can hardly breathe...anyway...."that game" where we were badly losing to (8,0).....pathetic was the word for us....since hardly any of us could perform...after the second better half we were lagging 2 behind...all tired of their missed bangs and mis-tackling the wrong person we were short of those two damned shots. Anshi the corner defender missed one precious shot and I howled...

"What the heck yar...u think that bloody clock would stop for us"
She infuriated
"Okay u damn....u try this time ...as if these aces are all waiting for my slam dunk"

Coaches called for immediate time out (while basket ball matches...one avoids all kind of breakouts coz they usually tend to be bad mouthing and time wastage"
As I reached, our captain was almost bloating on me, throwing ten better slang’s each time I dared open my mouth.....and not to forget Anshi was brutally quarantined for she missed it...every one was high on their own anger quotients....30 seconds left to start of the last 5 minutes of "that game" and our captain looks down....breathing.

“You know what your problem is; each of u has lost on yourself. You guys have accepted defeat, you guys are those set of good for nothing girls who are ready to shout...hey u all there look we have lost coz we were playing with fat lions and we are no more than chipmunks...but listen, I'm not ready. If I lose, I won’t show my face for tomorrows match. I give a damn for what u think, so you better get your a****s right on place and play coz if we lose. Il be the worst for u guys. So you either choose to walk off right away. Or you choose never to lose...take your call. Period."

We all went, she replaced Anshi, blowed two pretty point blank slams...I kept on watching....we were equal now, Roshi defended the chandigarh shooter.....played the ball way well than what she does and slammed again...I kept watching.....ball banged on to the chandigarh 7 number she dribbled at the speed of light, Anshi screamed from out fields..."u bloody, take that ball thing", I somehow managed to snatch and pass, somehow shooted off....slammed!! Life at peace...I kept watching…..

While we were returning our captain screamed thank you for saving my *** hope u guys do the same tomorrow...and I kept watching….

Down there Anshi was waiting for my grand welcome, I wonder how with such fluidity she can blutter out slang’s at one go....blah blah blah and blah and then with a 100 watt chuckle mutters

“Good that u did listen to me for once saved from losing your self :)"

May be that one stint was worth to know that losing is relative and is an illusion, when u know that you don’t have an option to lose out you wont! And by this I don’t mean equating losing out with failures, certainly failures do occur. But what is needed is that strength to fight back again, that strength which calls never to lose.



“Rewind”
2008 New Delhi, Apollo hospital.

Anshi was admitted for liver infection, she breathed practically every air of infection ever available on earth, so few merciful docs hoped to save her from the difficulty to breath and put her on ventilation. She survived three disgusting months to ventilate in and out of that tube which stayed stuck into thin long damnd looking throat of hers, she puked and threw every filth of her body right there where she was lying down for she did not have the time to "damn anybody", she did not have the energy to scream on top of her voice " u bloody, u damn just make me all right"....she did not have the senses to know that she was alive and vegetating on liquids. After all those innumerable pills, antibiotics, sleepless nights of her family. She woke up one morning, just to find that she has slipped into some state of body where one cannot talk, walk or eat due to extra sensitivity of her organs…..She kept watching.....her peers were worried, her mom cried whenever she looked at the lean looking figure that "just" breathed......She kept watching......doctors
made her drink through injections, inserted n number of pipes at disgusting parts of her body....she "just" kept watching.....for she could do nothing else.
But she fought, for she knew she had missed one golden chance long back at some certain match, and she did not want to miss it again.

Guess once a sport...is always a sport. To people outside living the world of sports it might sound weird or more precisely crap, but as much Iv known myself and as much I have seen when u have that adrenaline pumping your body for just one shot, you feel your own power. Not all of us do that, one being the president of any country under no circumstances can feel the power of his success just by sitting on to his chare or passing on to some ace proposals. But a warrior, a sportsman and those who live on the edge can "feel" their power to success...and the feeling is amazing....you experience it once and u crave for it for the rest of your lives.

Anshi craved for it while she lay on that hospital bed, while all of us were losing hope, she chose never to lose on herself, miraculously Anshi returned to normalcy, now she could at least sit and talk, her body weighed 28 from 21 at least more than her age of 22.

Since I was not in Delhi, I called her up…

"So you damnd, how the hell u got yourself right"

Anshi with her usual list of unmentionable slang’s at last spoke

“Thought of getting my *** at the right place, you remember that never lose 30 seconds lecture. Just thought about rewinding that again and again....and you know what, it worked…hehe....I chose never to lose :)”

This lady who barely breathed few weeks back...talked about setting life's score right, talked about choosing never to lose!! Or rather just not talked but actually she knew how, never to lose.

For you or for that person who walks by your mind as you read this losing up might be different, it’s relative for all of us. But may be someday, we all will realize that not losing up is nothing but just being the best you can at your extremes….by knowing the worst and hoping the best....and if nothing just for one moment ....dare to be yourself and you would know that its instinctive that you always chose to put your best fight when needed, its just that you never give yourself that chance to live on the edge...

Because all these people who have had near death experiences (NDE) ....all those who have done the impossible and every single woman who gives birth to a child, believes that even God chooses never to lose….So why should you!

P.s. the names are changed as desired.