TBM

The scene is from a place…a place which is away from the usual city noise…
You do not expect people to be found here. But for some genre of people it’s the favorite hangout. These people are a different class who live in there world, live not just two-three but many lives, and put upon many faces…the scene talks about just some of these..


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He came earlier today, he checked around to see if anyone could be seen…but there was none…It hardly mattered, they had to come here…so why not lit a cigarette by that time...he moved down, smoke was flowing off, water gushing off could be heard…he found a comfortable stone and sat there, dreaming about all those days which had to come after college…job, post graduation…
………hey, hi!
It was other one this time, he took out a packet out of his pocket and offered to the one who had been standing there and to those who had come along.
Thanks bro!

They hugged each other as if brothers had met after years having left their hands once in a kumbh mela…a regular occurrence in bhopalis ,guys meet and they hug each other as if they’ll never meet each other or may be the touch with every guy, gives them a sense of feeling a female around them or may be they want them to be well able to differentiate the feeling when it actually happens..

They sat down, each one white stick popping off there mouths…one amongst them lit a lighter…and helped out all his bhaais!
Thanku bhai!*5

These guys A ,B ,C,D,E are then joined by a chunk of people and the white stick with red tips, smoke oozing off but they have new friends to entertain… after all the romantic place with rhythmic water flow is a favorite for many of them…
They sit in a row…after usual hugging and kissing…sorry! No kissing…they just feel the warmth of each other around them…

Bhai TBM...and the other bhai passes the white stick which is shortening with time, until more TBM’s are offered or the stick size goes to zero…that means size zero, does not furnish moreTBMs...aah! Oops, the engineer in me wants to see loops everywhere…

By the way TBM, you all must be aware...and those of you who are not...I tell you it builds better bonds than any in the world…its TERE BAAD MAIN!
It saves those white sticks whose price have been soaring higher and higher after the new budget...foolish govt feels they’ll make people drop cigarette.s...but it actually helps out, share each and everything with our mates...our soul, mind, air ,breathe, mouth to mouth sticks..

The romanticism of the place is added by the girls’ hostel around, and there are some hot chicks that pass by the place everyday…

A: bhai,wo right wali meree hai
B: merre beech waaliii…thek hai C tere liye fir wahi bachi… chal left waali hamaaree bhai..
C: (almost standing, in protest!)no..right wali meree… tere bhabhi hoggi A.
D, E: aur hum?
C: dekh bhai mujhe hee kammi hai??


They fight as if India and Pakistan are fighting for Jammu, wanting the best...
B: abbe tum dono kabhi adjust kyu nahi kr saktee…hamesha 1 hee!
A: tu isko samjha,hamesha mere wali pr…
D,E: iss baar humme decide karne do!



They are so passionate about the whole thing as if the sweets they have distributed amongst them…would be there’s...

C: but A tu hee kyu hamesha sabse phele choose kartaa hai…
Tringgggggggggggggggg

B: shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
“Hello mom...yup, just reaching home...actually A and C are having the same doubt so I am just helping them out…
Ya, yaa coming home at earliest!”

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See guys I got to leave, meree beech wali hai,baaki tum log dekhlo!

A: dekh yaar mai chodd dungga usse…but mujhe beeech waali..
B: doo kya ek….(bas har waqt doo kya,aaj tak zindaggi mai 1 machchaar bhi nahi mara hogga))


B: Chal yaar,gotto go..mom would kill me...otherwise!
See man I can not adjust this much…last week itself I told you about one in my colony…I offered you her myself ,mere sath pados ka chakkar hai, but you guys can easily!!!
Tring..going guys!!!

All in chorus: haa bhai ye to sach hai!
Aap to ekdum guru ho
They depart as if they’ll never meet..

Clock shows 12... hugs ………bhai log… helping out each other and they leave the place!

P.S. The romantic water gushing is the sewage water bringing about the romanticism in the place!(![]

Those of you who know this may not question again….
And those of you who don’t, I bet its better to stay mum.
I am sure my gyaan in this area lacks...but I just wish I could understand what bonds do these sutta-mates and daru- buddies share…and what is there between each of them, that they hate each other but still love! They bad breathe, but still breathe together...what is it that binds them…a stub? How could such a small thing?
Anyways...none of my interests… had anything to pen down!
Just heard TBM lately…felt like writing on it[]

flowing with the wind!

We are always taught to plan our lives, to keep it in our hands.
They say, knowing your dreams, would give them true shape. When you know where you are going you would follow them and ensure for yourself a good life ahead. Those who had no choices did follow destiny. Yes, I had options. Life didn’t give me 1 or 2 it gave me 3 options.
Decent enough for a graduate to have three options to fulfill and I choose the one which was best suited …I was taking risks, risking the path others were taking gracefully, in their words.
In mine, I was sure of moving away from the path the crowd was going to follow. I was sure, confident enough to give myself satisfaction. Have always been an extremist, as if didn’t know what midways were.
But then life has his own ways of treating us, what we choose or rather wish to choose does not become ours. Even if we are just a step away from our destination, there can be a wind. A wind that can blow everything. Blow all, changing our path to options which were never in our list.
I though I was always choosing the best. Options which different from others. Ways which were apart from ways anyone else would have chosen. But may be life stores something else, and today after all analysis, research and soul thinking, I am to improvise upon my judgments!
You do not always get what you choose.
Life doesn’t offer whatever you wish or plan. And if all of it was this easy, it would not have been this adventurous. Or in simpler words, it would not have been LIFE.
So, after long………. Today am not trying to determine the flow of my life.
As someone has said “life is like a box of chocolates, and you never know what is coming next till you have this one”…so today am flowing with the current.
Lets se what the life brings to me!

Fantasy

The harsh truth, the acrimonious realities,
Which I strongly wanted to be untrue
Have come face to face
Am seeing things brazen
Raw, naked as they were!

That what was untrue
Was a reason for the murkiness?
But the truth which I suppress each day
The truth that hurts,
Makes me know what it means to see your softness cry
That truth wants to nullify itself each day!

Each day I wake up,
I wake up with the unfulfilled, unreachable dream
The untamed heart still wallows in search of the lie
The lie hoping it was true!
The fable wants to turn itself,
The fantasy wants to make me to be a princess in that imagined castle
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No, no…this is untrue
This is a falsity!
The sun is showing bright
That what was seen was in the darkness of sky
And the desired flawlessness of the dream,
Was nothing than imagery!
The heart may be blind, but the mind is sound.
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But isn’t the reflection of our desires our dreams?
Isn’t that an attempt by the laced to free itself?
Isn’t that what both of them want, but still have to contradict
To let the one for whom both exits be sound!

To fasten the softer part, by the harder one
Wasn’t it to stop the brainsick from worsening...
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The sun is much brighter now.
I can see through that what was don’t know what?
And that what comes now...
Is life!

Life has its meanings,
The dream was beautiful & cherished,
It was for the Cinderella in this soul.
But fairies, princess don’t exist...that’s what the sound makes me believe!
Yup,
I was again in the fantasy, but it could never be true
Coz, it has people like you!

The desperate wings

Being a bird, a bird that was always free
I started flying;
I knew I would cross the ocean not near.
The ambitions, the wings were longer
The expanse, the dreams seemed higher
As the migration period was near
I wanted to be the bird to cross the ocean not reached by anyone dear
As I prepared myself against those shackles;
Suddenly my spine seemed insincere.

As I expanded in the horizon;
As I thought the dream was near
The ocean visual was clear
I opened my wings
I pushed up those limbs,
Suddenly I fell down
Fell hard on the ground
There was something wet, something that oozed out my wings
The color was red
The arrow was dull,
As if meant not for just snatching away the dream
But keeping me alive
Alive of living the unfulfilled dream
The unfulfilled desire of an ocean, an ocean that neither seemed far nor near
But I was caged, with no wings to bear!

An unfulfilled Aastha of Mamta

I am Mamta…don’t know if the name had any meaning…mamta had to be related to a mother’s love. I had a mother but love?

Before my birth I had an elder brother. …I have heard, when he was born my grandmother kept him, and returned my mother back…when mother again somehow returned back, I was born and this time not only mom but even I was returned back to my grandma’s place… ..after having been harassed for long, maa could not bear things anymore, every now and then she would be thrown back….this time she decided not to return…

So I was brought up at grandmother’s place only.
There were my other cousins too. ..My grandma lived at one of the metros so my cousins had come to study their college there.
The eldest bhaiya was 17 years elder to me. I spent my childhood there, when I was 2yrs bhaiya would punish me for leaving food. He understood the hardships we were living in.
It was an emergency period…….even after having applied at so many places; he couldn’t get a job because his results were delayed.
By the time I grew up, my cousins got married……I was the youngest there at grandma’s place …with time cousins ,the only ones I could have called a brother or a sister had settled, they became busy in their own lives…
I took care of my widowed grandmother, my paralytic mother who couldn’t take the grief which had overcome her. I never saw of my father and he never wanted to see me….but my uncle was a teacher( a learned man in those days), he understood things…he was guilty for what his brother had been to his wife and daughter…he would secretly come and meet me, and offer gifts, it was his way of repenting of not having stopped his brother….grandmother abused him whenever he came to the house, the cousins abused him…when I went to his house( the father’s family) abused my mother…. While I was young, no one cared if I had a childhood to live…no one was to blame and no one was to be questioned… all of them were struggling, fighting and righteous in their own positions. …

I thought I would study, I would be independent, I would earn for myself, for my mother. I would support my grandmother who was working for me even at this age….
The day would make me busy in the household chores and in the night I would study…
I studied hard, cleared two entrance for bank P.O.s..a big achievement those days…

As I returned back home seeing my result at the rozgaar vibhaag……a loud voice stopped me at the stairs…
Who could it be? Grandmother had become too weak…mom? Was there a guest??

“So what do you think, upon the suggestion?”--- A loud male voice

“Anyways we brought up your girl, we were the ones who did everything for her”…a voice just loud enough to be barely heard spoke.

“We did everything, it is your girl too, and why should we bear all the expense? Now it’s your turn. Take her with you. Let your family also understand the expenses of keeping a girl…… see the boy and decide what you are doing about her.
Her mother is unable to move, and I am now too old to carry the burden anymore”.

So it was decided, I was to move with my chacha (my uncle, the only person in the other home who cared if I was alive or dead)

Tears flowed down my eyes, sobbing I entered the house…..it was me who was Mamta, and it was my mamta which I showered to my mother…and today I knew I was a burden, I didn’t belong to the place I was fed through…

Without questioning, I moved with uncle….my sudden new family had to bear me now. They had searched a groom for me in a small village. …But my new grandmother at father’s place was concerned if I would run away and not adjust in the family as my mother did at her place….she claimed!!
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Me…Mamta, I was wedded in a village, where there were no roads. …. I couldn’t give the interviews… my brothers and sisters with whom I was brought up were no where to be seen…my mother was nowhere, my kanyadaan was done by my father and step mother(new parents to my life.)…my grandmother, the lady who would walk with a stick was probably unable to make it here…..

…….”The family” cottage was big ….the family had 18 people in all. There was work, there were cows to be mowed, cow dung to be put in this new home, there wasn’t electricity in the village for twelve hours a day….but this was my home, a home where I belonged to…the home where roles of each person was played according to the characters…
.
…the day I held my girl in my hands I made a resolution to myself, I would make the meaning of mamta true to her. I wouldn’t let her live a name she would question all her life…when I took the little angel in my hands. ….I knew she was “Aastha”…aastha ,who was mine, who would live life for me, who would break the wires around the village ..…who would stand on her legs, who would be independent, who would have a home for herself here with me…and when she would break the walls here, she would make a platform there in the world outside!!!

But the destiny was planned, and may be mamta was misplaced…..when my Aastha was of 24 days, maa became serious….I brought her at “my family” …grandma had left me sometime back…..and maa was broken all the more. Her half paralyzed body became motionless….if there were red ants on her hand, she could not pick up her hand and remove them. She could not raise a voice to alarm us. She would keep bearing till someone saw her and relieved her of the pain. I could care for her, only in the last 6 months ...when I saw her dying each day!

My mamta was growing, when did Aastha became 6 months old, I never knew.
Little mamta didn’t know that the bigger mamta of “Mamta” was there for few days
…all she knew was her mamta was taken up by her garndmaa….who would do nothing, lie still, but take away her time which was there for her mamta….when she started crawling, she would push maa and make her fall…maa kept moaning in pain, till I saw her and helped her out.. ..I tried giving myself to the unfulfilled and the forthcoming mamta….

And today I find myself bare, bare by the wave of an empty mamta…of a paralytic mother and a young daughter…I don’t know if my mamta failed,but certainly it was delayed… and it seems having been a fight to make the mamta in me meaningful !

An apology

Don’t know what makes me write this, when I strongly feel like leaving the idea right now. There’s a feeling within which says I am wrong this time, wrong to put something like this in words ,which should have stayed inside….am desperately fighting within when I pen this down, and am not sure when I’ll leave the script and would let it go incomplete….there is something which makes me feel like a criminal within….


Today I needed to accompany someone to a condolence because a driver was needed and I was the option available. Though I didn’t like the idea, I felt myself very much helpless at such occasions, may be it was my inability to accept the realities the world gave when someone who was yours, someone whom you kept close left someday with non hopes of ever returning back…..and even when “the person” wasn’t close the people whom the dead left made you feel helpless...today, the deceased wasn’t someone I was connected to, she was just a distant relative. So, I tried negotiating if I could just be a driver and wait outside while she completed the societal norms, but my attempts were a total failure…
Went there, while we were struggling to find the house, going back and forth ,zig zag in the lanes ..We could hear something loud, and it made us identify the place we were supposing to!

At the entrance on left I could see a table with a white sheet on it and some red boxes piled on top of each other, right side had another similar table this time with some glasses on it and a big kit, which I read BISLERI…
Suddenly someone pushed me, as I stood up again the person apologized and hurried within with a plastic bag, which had coke,pepsi,mirinda bottles in it….as these were not my concern, I went to the place I was destined for.

I took off my sleepers as everyone did and found a space. Though I didn’t know what should be my behavior, I was ascertained there would be nothing wrong in keeping mum. I sat down, in between people. Right in front there was a stage with a red carpet and three people on it. In the middle sat a female in a white kurtee with minimum makeup(apt for the occasion with a laptop in front. person on left was on a tabla and the right one held a synthesizer …probably this was the orchestra for the evening. The female sung two bhajans for the rested soul, then she recited “gayatri mantras”, which hold special significance in our hindu culture…as I was engrossed in it…she looked for a signal to a man again in white kurtee(the son of the deceased),this time the kurtee had kashmiree work on it, and he signaled her to sing something more….she continued..
Just next to me was a young boy probably 17 yr old, who was the grandchild of the dead soul….in a chicken kurta and jeans he held his handicam in hand, and was trying to shoot the orchestras, the photo frame of her grandmother, which was nicely decorated with red roses around….

a couple beside me, were in there finest clothes, certainly in whites...the female wore diamond sets apt with the white bordered zarii kurtee...probably gold didn’t went with it!

As my eyes moved around the white tent I sat there was something suffocating about the atmosphere, when suddenly the mike was taken up my a man who wore yellow for a change ,I expected some real “uthavnaa” rituals from him. but the mike was handed over to someone who talked nice things about the soul as if his speech was preplanned, and requested everyone present not to leave without taking the Prasad!

While mineral water was continually being served, the red boxes (conating laddus{the actual ritual }+ some baked biscuits,{ may be the onset of the culture we were heading to})were served which had a label of one the 3 stars in the city.
As I wanted to move out quickly, someone at the gate handed over to me a card, the card read…
.”My mom was a great female,
She loved….

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I thank you all for coming here and making an effort to be little my sorrow”.


I don’t know if my acceptability to the life’s biter truth increased over the loss. But certainly if this was the society, which was worse then the TV daily soaps …...where children called an orchestra as a condolence, they made sure of the best fabrics even in such a situation.
At the second day of death, they wanted to wrap up things because “chautha “ and “terahvi” which hold some significance demanded time and the children were busy.
Then certainly I feel am better off not knowing the norms of such a society, and if this is one of the kind, I am a rebel.
I apologize to the soul, if anything by me has hurt her!

Finally an engineer!

I had not been writing for sometime.

People said have been doleful,

I needed to understand the brighter sides of life and portray them too...

So even if there were moments which hurt, I knew I wasn’t allowed writing. Even If I was an open book the world demanded something else, they wanted something that could interest them. If I was giving out my life, there had to be still something diplomatic.

So I promised myself of giving them a moment of happiness, if not happiness than at least not a moment of sadness. I decided this time I’ll wait for one. And see if it’s worthwhile enough to pen down!

I knew something coming up, end of my engineering…..I knew it would certainly not be a sadistic moment.

Had waited for the day from long.

Each of us never stopped saying, be it any exam, any practical

“ki kab wo din aayegga aur bas chuttkara millegga!” so I knew it was going to be funny.

So even the night before I was going for my last exam, I was sure I could give all of them a reason to smile at least tomorrow. After all only some hours more would make me an engineer! (An 8*5) a 40 day engineer.

Every semester………. starting from the day I came up in the college, whenever I would screw up a paper,

I would promise myself,

“Bas agli baar se shuru se padhungge!”

“ Par kutte ki pooch bhi kabhi seedhee huyee hai bhaallla”.

“To hamaree kaise ho jatee!”

The four years passed by like this only.

Someone making the assignments, someone taking out the printouts,

and the rest of the class simply paying them on the day of the exams. (After all the whole class apart from these two was busy , they had jobs to be done which were much more important, they were coming to the college …wasn’t this more than enough)

This was the practical part of being an engineer and theoretical couldn’t have been without god! (Lord Balaji and Goddess Shivani).

The whole semester we would buy books and at the last moment when time didn’t allow giving due respect to them, we had just “Shivani”…

Suddenly there was a ring, which brought me back to the world where I had a paper tomorrow, a chapter was unexplored and the clock was showing 1:15….. I was back to my senses.

I checked there was a sms which read

“kitna hua???”

These were the messages and miss calls that kept me awake and alive during the exams, but tomorrow was an end to it all…at least before the joining!

So it was going to be a big break, after long.

……………………………………………………………………………….

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We went to college, rather than revising things, we were cracking jokes coz we knew we would mange passing….after all

“Haathi to nikal hee chukaaa ttha,baaki ttthe to bas poonch”!

While giving the exam, the thing I least wanted to do was write, wanted to run out after I would have managed a 35…when people around me were taking supplementary, I checked if I could even mange filling this one. And when I was sure I was managing it (former one (a 35), not the latter) there I was out of the hall…to search out the special feeling.

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And finally am an engineer, the enthusiasm seems all loosed out;

There is nothing special I feel for the moment which was waited and has come…

I have been trying hard from past three days, that there’s something which I could feel, some special crown over my head, some angels around…

All I feel is boredom, and now I think it wasn’t a bad idea seeing friends around for no good reason, hanging out on sanchi, just for time pass, and going for a long drive everyday(to college)..

And look at the discontent,

It always wants something which is either gone or is coming up. When in school we wait for the college, when in college we wait for it to end and look in for a job and when working we look back to those old days.

And see even am a part of it,

And am still hopeful of a special feeling coming up, anticipating that it shows up soon!

an ode to CSE 2008

Today was no different, a usual CSE party. We have had lots of them since the first day in college. Though its form changed with time. At first they were cozy parties, small number of people where each felt connected to each other. Later the parties were redefined; the number of people increased so did the budget, but the bond the feeling of being one with other seemed somehow vanishing. All most of the people were concerned about when coming to a party was to have a good lunch at one of the finest places in the city, take lots of pics which would give a false impression later of having done a lot of fun later… to make the bill heavy enough on the host and leave. At times even forgetting to wish the bill bearer.

These parties were lost with time, and then came this one-a party intended to be a farewell for each of us or rather a goodbye party, to see many of those faces whom we may never see again.

I was there at the party, with just no feelings. I was neither sad nor happy as if it was just a formality, a formality of just giving the last appearance.

People took their places;

some of the girls were concerned about taking pics as usual- a souvenir, remembrance… holding the person next to you tight enough to give an impression of the love, the friendship that existed between them. Then there were some who were busy scribbling something on some cards, a group of boys again busy amongst themselves, some of whom never talked to girls, so never did we.(as if it was a silent unsaid mutual agreement).

I observed all the small groups I could see and I wished I could just pick each of them and mingle them up, like I did with my bangles. I felt suffocated for a moment at the beautiful thought of being together when being in different cities when not concerned about talking to those whom I could never connect earlier when in a 12* 14 room…

“Hello everybody, may I have your attention please”-there was someone who was trying to host us, someone who would be having some plans to put each of us in a mix.

…he continued.

“We have some titles for each of you, a title written by someone, someone sitting out here.”

He seemed to be talking something which could pull us.

And the murmur stopped, people wanted to hear things about themselves, a narcist in each of us!

He would speak out the title and we would shout in chorus, guessing the person who had to be given it………guessing who was Mr and Miss diplomatic, chalu, samjseval, sarkarraaz, flirt, anonymous, charming, popular …….(can’t recall all of them) amongst us shouting the names of people “dil se” (as was suggested by the host.)

Then suddenly a title Mr. “xyz” was announced and I found myself shouting the name of the person, I had not talked to since past 8-9 months. I found him smiling at it, and I realized the gap which had come between many of us, unsaid, unwanted and never demanded.

Then the next title was “Miss mahila morcha” (have always been a rebel, but I never gave a thought if it was doing me positives or only negatives!) and I saw 41 people yelling out one name, when I never cared if each of them were around.

That day, we were there for each of us. We danced together, with special appearances from the couples. The party carried on, and all of us for the first time were enjoying as a branch with each of the person present… shouting, yelling, laughing!

Then suddenly the lights went off and we could hear something

“hum rahe na rahe kal,kal yaad ayengge ye pal….”

A video was being played, a video where I could see myself on a see-saw and a skinny class fellow of mine in air. Some pics which could not stop us laughing on each other...a guy of 40 kg trying to lift up a 100kg + person, a pic that depicted how the guys partied at holi with bare minimum clothes, someone trying to hide his face, two boys trying to depict an apsara, a pic zooming into someone’s tummy!

A video which was “our” journey through the college, our visits to tekrii, bhojpur, sanchi ,hamaree pahadee … a video which had our failures to our success stories , the moments we fought, we cried, we laughed, which we shared together, a video which had everyone as a package.

“We have always stood for each of us

We have been together

……………………….

And we’ll continue to do so!”

This was the message being displayed on the screen.

Lights were back again and each of us was laughing in an attempt to hide those pearls which had trickled our eyes.

Having sensed the irony in the above said words, the feeling of nostalgia had struck!

We knew the life coming ahead was new, it was unpredictable. We knew in some days our lives would be changed drastically and instead of the faces which had become familiar in the last four years we’ll be surrounded with just strangers in a world where we’ll have to make our own identity, make our own presence felt, to prove ourselves. A place where there would be no one who would do the assignments for us and give to the whole lot of us to copy. A place where when we’ll fall there would be no one to help us stand again. A place where there would be no friends to defend you, no one to stand by you when you’ll be alone. There would be no one to whom you’ll be able to speak your heart out.

Filled with the memories of the time we were together and mere memory we’ll become in some hearts once we leave this place, we were all aware of the void that would follow the evening.

We were leaving alone on paths, we ourselves didn’t know!

Failure!

Betrayal from someone, ambitions from someone, likes of someone, love for someone …and she was never what she was years before.

She stood there on the platform wearing a white kurti and a chuddidaar with a red dupatta. She looked enervated and slender than ever. Her heart was beating faster and her eyes searched around for someone. Someone who would have remembered her, someone who could come and hug her. Someone who would tell her that he/she had still not forgotten her. The mind knew it was impractical, it was just a dream but the heart never understood.

She carried a suitcase and a bag, She was sure she had kept enough for a living, and even if it wasn’t, the gaps could be filled. She was talented, had done her M-Tech sometime back and was serving a top international bank .There was nothing which could make anyone believe that there could be a reason for her being unhappy. She was a benchmark for her colleagues. She earned handsome amount of money which she had saved more than spent in the last six years. She was an exemplary for all the people around.

There were people around her who liked her for her work, there were others who were envious of the position she stood at. But there was no one who could love her, love her for what she was.

Her parents wanted her to top the world; they wanted to decide things this time too. They were worried that the girl had turned 31, and if she goes to swimming she might get darker, and lower her prospect for the high class IIT graduate they had searched for.

They wanted to decide everything, right from the school she had to go, to the college she should have opted, to making sure she was the topper wherever she went. They wanted her to learn French and not opt for drawing, because they found it not worth any purpose.

He had said that she didn’t understand, she couldn’t think of anyone other than her own self, she was obsessed about him. She wanted to start her day with him and end with. But neither was it practical nor demanded .There was work and everyone had to make his ends meet themselves, so he was doing his and she was an interruption.

Friends said she had changed, she didn’t want to talk. She wanted to live alone. Everyone was making his own ways. Having found their better halves they didn’t need a girl “friend” anymore, the other half was enough for a company, enough for a friend. They had brought love in her life and one fine day they asked her to choose between them and him. And that was the day; she saw them for the last time.

Yes, she was a failure. She couldn’t win the world for them. She failed;

She failed each day when he didn’t want to hear from her. She failed when she couldn’t hold them together. She failed when she couldn’t fulfill their requests. She failed when she couldn’t stand up to their expectations...

She was a failure at relationships.

She didn’t speak today, she was leaving and she would move silently without anyone knowing what had changed in their lives.

The "moment"

At times we get so selfish or actually blind when we aren’t able to see through fogs, and mist…when we aren’t able to identify who is ours and who’s not. And the day we realize that the people who were actually ours we rush towards them just to find that they are leaving or have just left. So that nothing can be done now, nothing can be done except feeling the guilt of not acknowledging them when they were around. Now either they are so far that they can’t be reached or all of us are to busy making our ends meets that getting those moments back again is impossible…..

Didn’t want to do the mistake again so just thought of telling him how much I have loved him, from the day he came in my life.

I was getting ready when papa told; I’ll be seeing him today!

I kept questioning myself,

How would he be like?

Would he be like me?

Would he become my best friend?

Would he help me out with whatever I do?

Would he be a party to all my mischiefs?

Wanted to see him right at the moment but papa did not agree, he wanted me to do my day’s work (my school), finish off with it before I could finally see him.

I went to school somehow making the day passby, and when I came out of the school gate papa was right there on our scooter (can’t recall the name, have always been bad at this……..but what if there were better renaming plans!)

We went to “maya pathak nursing home”, where I could actually meet him.

I was asked to wait there and after sometime a lady appeared in white sari, the same color my dress was came from a door, she had something in her hands tightly wrapped. it would be him, to meet whom I had waited for a long day…as she handed over the thing to me, I saw him for the first time, he was paler then I had ever seen anyone, his eyes tightly closed…I made an attempt to wake him up, but he closed them with even more force, as if they were glued. Before I could see him properly and ask him, all those questions I have been asking myself the whole day. I felt something wet on my white skirt…

And I burst into tears.

“I don’t want this Bhai, I want him to be changed!” this was me, and I left my hands right at the moment and let him go free...

(thanks to the aunty in white sari who didn’t trust a 3 year old child and she had him safe in his hands. later I was explained that every child does this, even I did so he was good except that he would do this at times, but when he grows, he’ll be my best friend, someone who’ll remain with me always)

And he did, for the first few years he was dependent on me, I helped him when mom wasn’t around. Taught him when mom went to office, and to make him teach I had to bribe him. Bribe him with 5star, dairy milk, through the purpose changed with time.

Have been doing this since last seventeen years, and it has all been so beautiful.

Be it making him forcefully drink a tumbler of water when he was just six months old, when I didn’t understand that I disturbed his sleep, and when couldn’t help out the situation, couldn’t stop him from crying started crying with him coz that was the last resort when a 3 yr old and a 6 months baby, don’t know what to do when alone..

But he grew up, he grew up faster than I could understand…he developed his own vocabulary, and we were all made to learn with him. So the scooter the brand I never remembered was coz it was better named “bhaaaaye scooter”(it made a hell lot of noise)

The other vehicle was named “kanikkonda” (kinetic Honda) and his favorite line was “blabloo khol do”(blabloo was door for him and it became for each of us).

Just few years and don’t know when did the small kid became my elder brother, he was the one who held my hand tight when mom- dad came late from office ,and we stood waiting right outside the jhullaghar waiting for them, consoling me “didi,maa abhi aajayegii”…to making me drink the cashew tea he tried(was awful),to always keeping his eyes on me, sensing any discomfort I was in, sensing if I needed anything, to making me eat in exams, helping me out with everything I was confused about, to being a silent spectator when he knew I didn’t want to speak.

The moments have been endless, since the day he came,my life has been fun. More than fun, making my life complete.

I realized this when I had completed an interview of mine, I thought of calling all important people then mom, dad, seniors, close friends(many of whom were actually not bothered, of me having actually given a call) when I suddenly realized I had actually forgotten the little prince of my life.

I called him to tell “mera ho gaya”

And he was like

“dekhaa,dekha maine bolla tha naa tera ho jayegga,ab tu mujhe ek icecream dillayeggi!”

I explained to him I had been talking about having completed my interview, not having got through the institute. And that day I realized after whom all I kept running, to whom I wasn’t actually important anyday, and even if I was it couldn’t have been more than the place he had given me in his life, it was just me who failed.

My friend, my brother, someone who was always with me, who never asked more than a 5star,a dairy milk, or an ice-cream to me, what could I offer him. He wasn’t the first person to have clicked me at the moment just because he was younger, or he didn’t show me my career path?

He had, he always tried to, may be in his own ways…when he didn’t know things and wanted to still advice. I may have been irritated by him then but may be I couldn’t realize what he was, until we would have fought this much. or until this moment came to me

I can go on talking at length about him, but may be if I do that you’ll never dare to visit my blog again. Even if u do not, my job is done.

I love you dear, love you for making this life beautiful.

So I pen down here, but a piece of advice if you people can bear a line more…do not be late in identifying people to whom you are important, rather than giving your share to those to whom you are just nobody.

So wait for that special “moment” to come in your lives and feel lucky if it already did.

Waiting for your valuable comments, to contradict me, to helping me identify life better!

Just happened to read “temporary mater” by “Jhumpa Lehree”,

Left many questions unanswered.

The characters are Shobha and Shukumar,

Who are passionately in love,after some meetings ……… end up marrying each other..

Shobha n Shukumar who longed to be together,

But suddenly something changes the nexus between them…

Shobha and Shukumar who shared a conjugal harmony between them, A pregnancy which left broken cords and a dead child,

She couldn’t even see!

They were never like this before,

Now they had to struggle to say something to each other,

He struggled to make her look up from her plate and look a him once..

Shukumar noticed that her beauty,

That seemed to overwhelm him, seemed to fade.

The cosmetics that had seemed superfluous, were necessary now,

Not to improve, but to define her somehow…

He couldn’t recall last time they were together or got a photograph..

There had been created a long void..

And then suddenly a notice informed it was a “temporary matter”,

For 5 days their electricity would be cut off daily for an hour..

5 days,

Leaving 5 dark hours together…

Five days to it all…

These 5 days actually opened up some unfolded cards on both sides...

After six months, she finally spoke.

When he was preparing meals day in and out,

” you were not even there in hospital when I needed you the most”

Next day he told her about his inclination to a prettier woman, when she was going out of shape.

Next day about his drinking in the bar,

3^rd day he informed her, his selling away the sweater she had gifted him…

And the 4^th day she confessed that she never liked the only poem he had published ever..

4^th day there hands finally met after long..

How much had he been longing for the warmth,

They carefully walked over to the bed.

Feeling together for the final moment

She wept silently today when he was close.

Morning of the 5^th night, the lines had been prepared…

At dawn he returned happier then ever,

Shobha wanted to talk something important…he attempted closing the lights…

But today she wanted her to see him, when she spoke

She had used the same words while telling about her pregnancy

Somewhere deep inside a fear surmounted him…

She clasped her hands and after gaining all her strength, finally said.

“She wanted to move out!”

Shukumar never knew she had spent the past evening’s planning a life without him.

When he thought she was returning back.

He was relieved now, as well as sicker.

Now may be it was his turn to speak.

He said he never wanted to tell her this,

But her baby was a boy.

His skin was more red than brown,

He had black hair,

He weighed five pounds,

His fingers curled slowly, like yours in night…

Shobha looked at him now,

His face contorted with sorrow.

Yes he had cheated her.

Ripped a picture of a woman in magazine,

Returned a sweater,

Got drunk in day,

These were the things he had told her.

He had held “his” son, who had known life only within “her”,

Against the darkened room in the hospital,

Till the nurse took him away forever..

And he promised himself he would never tell this to Shobha till he lived with her,

He stood up picked up the dishes,

Washed his hands and then joined her again...

They wept together for things they did not know!

The infinity

Mr. Margaret had another heart attack .This was the fourth one this year. The tension had been increasing in the past few months. There business was spread world wide, so the work was increasing at a fast pace. The esteem they had been enjoying was asking a price, a price which was not more than their lives.

Dr. Andrew had been called, their family doctor.

“Mr. Margaret, I feel you should take a holiday for two of you, rather three of you. This business is asking you to pay a big deal of yourself.”

“But what about the business?”

“It would go, even without you, but you need a holiday right at the moment”.

Mr. and Mrs. Margaret together with their daughter Carol, were then off to a land which was away from society, to a lone island which was inhabited by not more than five hundred people. The people there had their own lives, lives untouched by external factors.

They were given a place at a cottage, owned by Raghawendra who lived there with his only son. He had lost his wife in a flood earlier. After that his son was his world. They lived alone, alone in the heavenly abode. Spiritualism, meditation was there life. Some visitors helped earn a living for two of them, this time it was Carol with her parents.

Carol was the only heir to the business empire Margarets had… she was as cute as anyone could be, big brown eyes, chocolate brown skin., a beautiful face, slender legs, full grown bosom, and a lovely heart, a smile which could fill anyone’s heart with joy…. this was Carol, untouched by the status Margarets enjoyed.

“hi” .

“hi, am Carol”.

“Raju”(this was raghwendra’s son).

“Friends?”

And he gave a positive node.

Two of them enjoyed a good company together, she was 16 and Raju 17, Raju would teach her to meditate and Carol taught him to speak English.

Two of them walked on the shores, played together, they enjoyed being with each other.

…………………………………………………………………..

…………………………………………….

The sun had set, it was getting darker and the only noise to be heard was from the waves touching the shore and then receding back. They created a cadence of flowing water.

Carol sat in front of Raju in aalti-palti(cross-legs) in a tight fitting black swim suit that showed her curves clearly and she was trying to mediate.

“Raju,I cannot”

“Why can’t you?”

“Try again”

“When ever I close my eyes, I imagine everything other than what you ask me to. The more you ask me to put my thoughts aside, this earthly world returns all the more”.

“Just close your eyes and Relax! Don’t make any conscious effort; it would all happen on its own.”

“I’ll try again”

……………………………….

“No!”

“Hey, hold my hand and concentrate on what I say!”

“Ok”

“Can you see a rose?

“Yes”

“A beautiful white rose…………. there are tiny droplets on it….sparkling, blooming flower”.

“Yes”

“Now just try and concentrate on your eyebrow centre….relax, just leave yourself……… free yourself of every thought”

“Hey Raju, I did it”

She opened her eyes; bend down and her lips touched Raju’s.

He moved back.

“Hey Carol, what are you doing?”

“Hey, I could do this all coz of you”

“Was that necessary?

She gave a smile, got up and hurried towards the cottage.

……………………………………………………………………………

Raju sat back, just thinking what had happened in the last few minutes… The firanggi family’s daughter, did she mean what she did…if anyone would have seen it, was she in love with him?

“No, no this could not be possible. She is a princess to an empire and what about me?

What am I?

I earn my living, fishing…spend my time with strangers…I wanted a spiritual life for myself??? Is she drifting me?

But why did she?”

Rajuu…Rajuuuuu(This was Raghwendra)

“Haa baba(yes, dad)”.

“Come here, its time for dinner, help me out.”

“Aata hu”(coming).”

Should I tell what Carol did to me?

No-no…he would kill me for it!”

…………………………………………………………………………….

Raju couldn’t sleep the whole night, thoughts about Carol clashed his mind, her way of talking, her smile…. how gracefully did she carry herself, there was not the slightest amount of egoism in her,

He stayed awake... staring at the sky, lying there on the terrace …thinking about the last few days he had spent with her...

Will even she leave like all other tourists, or she’ll be a friend, or more than that???

…………………………………………………………………………….

He somehow managed removing all thoughts from his mind, and he promised himself, tomorrow would be new …he’ll live every moment which has been left for her stay with Carol. He’ll make every moment memorable.

The next morning they were on the beaches again…….playing, running after one another…….. They took a ride on the shikhara(houseboat) which Raghwendra owned, whole day both of them enjoyed on the boat…..they rowed the boat till they were in the middle of the sea, all alone!

He took her soft hands in his, and he kissed them…

“Raju”

She came closer.

But he receded back!

She had seen men, but had never met such a man in his life….yes, she loved him.

But today she wanted to respect him...

“Hey, what are you thinking? I am sorry, if I did something wrong!”

“yahiii ki you are a sweetheart.”

“wo kya hota hai? You didn’t teach me this.”

“It means Raju,is….

“Raju is what”

“Raju is very good”

“Really”

“Yaa”

“Its getting dark, how about returning back”.

And they took the boat back to the small cottage, near the shore.

Both of them returned back with there hands in eachothers…

Carol was in a two-piece bikini, and Raju in some white cloth wrapped in a way Margaret’s found funny….they certainly did not like their daughter’s new friend, but there were no options. There were not many people around, and Mr. Margaret was recovering…. Soon they would be off to their home and their daughter would forget the dehattii with whom she was spending so much time.

“Time for tea, Carol”

“Thank you Mr.Raghwendra”

“Oops, dad…I think we forgot to shut down the windows of the houseboat, its open and it has started raining. I’ll be back in few minutes”.

“Be careful dear”

Even Carol insisted to go with Raju and two of them went together...

Suddenly, it started raining heavily…… the radio broadcasts asked the fishermen not to go near the sea. The rainfall level was increasing and a flood was feared...

Mr.Raghwendra, Margarets were all afraid, but they could do nothing except waiting....wait for the rain to stop pouring so much!

On the other end were Carol and Raju, unaware of what was happening outside...for them it was just another rain……… They were fully drenched in water, while coming to the shikara, they were closing the windows, when suddenly Carol slipped into his arms…

And they finally kissed each other.

…………………………………………………………………………

………………………………………………………………

The water level kept on increasing as if it would never stop, everyone was worried, the whole night both of them didn’t turn up……………..

By morning, the sea became calm.

From far away someone could be seen coming closer. It was Raju with Carol in his arms. She lay still, in a kind of sleep...everyone was frightened, she looked so young and unharmed …….. they ran closer only to discover that she’ll never move again!

Raju laid her down, where she lay flat, with her heart having stopped beating, calm and still.

Margarets could not stand the blow of loosing there only daughter, in a foreign land, that too in such circumstances.

“I wish to leave this land as soon as possible; I don’t want to be here, even for a moment”.

“Be practical dear, we cannot take Carol with us, we’ll have to cremate her here only”

“No, I can not leave my daughter out here, and that too on this land”

“See honey, our journey, would take weeks; we can not keep Carol’s body with us for so long, there would be trouble”.

“I don’t know anything, not here please!”

So they hired a boat, to cross the sea, back to their land. And when they were right in the middle of the sea…the same place Carol had been with Raju, they drowned her there.

…………………………………………………………………………….

……………………………………………………………………………..

Here Raju was missing, Raghwendra had been searching him since the moment he left Carol’s body and disappeared...

And when he could spot him, he was in Samadhi on top of a cliff, meditating.

He called him…but Raju ran away…ran away to the shores….he didn’t seem to hear him, her Carol was calling him. He went closer to the sea...the water filled his nostrils, filled his stomach …… and closer till the waves engulfed him and he could not breathe anymore.

He had met her Carol again.

They gave each other a smile of surprised delight as if they had rediscovered each other. They looked deep into each other’s eyes, moved by admiration and tenderness and they kissed impulsively, with warmth that communicated itself from their mind to their bodies…

They were in love today, they were one for infinity.

Its weird how you go from being strangers to being friends to being more than friends to being practically strangers again…and it all happens so FAST!

When a man returns from work, he expects his wife, his girlfriend (though this does not happen often in India) to be waiting for her. Someone from whom he can draw his strength..At times physical closeness, or moral well being. Someone who soothes him, someone who helps him give off all his tensions, worries which took him over the day. He may have had a bad day; sometimes peer pressure...at times from boss…the female understands and gives himself off all for him, all for someone whom she considers vital to her being.
Even she works, even she faces all this when she’s back from office but then she has to take care of the family. rush to the kitchen, at times not being able even to change, forgetting how much her head has been aching, just coz someone is waiting for a tea. ……………………………………………………………………………
………………………………………………………………….

Riya was returning back from her workplace, it was 9’o clock at night.
She had a meeting with some foreign delegates that couldn’t have been avoided. So, she was off schedule. Many men in her office had eyes on her, they wanted to help her out, but she was always smart enough to keep them off. She preferred staying independent enough. This was what Rajiv has always wanted. He was always afraid if the world could take her girl’s advantage when he wasn’t along with her. And she was carrying his wishes with utmost care .
She was on the highway, there was no one except the trucks moving at hundred kilometers per hour, more than the trucks, she feared the darkness……
It was around a year back,
She had to go for her first interview, the same place the same highway…
She never completed any exam in her life without hearing him, be it her semesters, or any exam…he was her lucky charm…a voice that gave solace to her...Someone who made her feel beautiful, who unknowingly was honing her skills…who made her feel confident about herself…she had called him before going for the interview…
She was nervous, as she was always before any exam.
This had to be a big day!
She was going for her first job.

Tring, tring!
“Hello”
“Hello…hi, was just waiting for your call, couldn’t have moved without it”
“I know! how could even I have missed it, today?”
“Riya, should I say something”
“Rajiv, you didn’t ask that even when you proposed me…what makes you do that today? Go ahead”
“Riya get a job for my family.”
“Didn’t get you?”
“Hey my family needs to have two jobs. So one is mine and the other yours…so am just asking you to get the other one for us”

This was Rajiv !
Fascinating, intriguing, surprising Riya , in her own ways.
He somehow made her believe in herself, somehow making her feel she had a backing…somewhere she could fall back to!
That very day, Riya was short listed and had her interview…and she was through….Yup, she had bought the job for them, in his words…rather for herself.
Rajiv had been trying to call her, all through the day…but she was out of reach, even Riya was so busy in the process that she finally called him around 9:30,when she had completed .She was driving back when suddenly she saw a hand waving to her. It was none other but Rajiv. He was sitting right on top of the crossroads just next to the work place(the place which was some time before an office, now changed the meaning for her)…
She stopped suddenly…

“Rajiv….you…here..like this…”
“hmmm”
“..I mean its quarter to 11….how come??……it’s such a nice surprise.”

His hands were on her lips.

“hey..kitna bol rahee hai!
Come here”.

And Riya was in his arms, right in the middle of the road…and there was noone around, at this point of time, just two of them.”
“Jaan, how does it feel?”
“Great…. but we are on road, I don’t believe you are here??”
“Yup...how could have I let you go alone, at this point of time?”

They moved apart….she had tears in her eyes….tears of happiness, tears of belonging to someone, like him.
……………………………………………………………………………..
…………………………………………….

But today things were different. She had not heard from Rajiv from past one week. She could not have stayed without him even for a day, but this time there was something wrong, shivers ran down her spine.
She felt alone, just thought if she could call him now.
It was 11:30, and she was alone on the road...
Suddenly she remembered what Rajiv had been to her the previous week….he didn’t want to hear her…he banged the phone down. Don’t know what went wrong, why was he behaving like this…don’t know what he was going through...What made him behave like this all of a sudden.
This was the same man who ran after her some time back, who was concerned, worried about her, but today he has taken over her, seduced her …now she could be taken for granted! Now she’s not more than a slave to her. He can throw her, tamper her, insult her, hurt her…but she’ll not leave him…she may try to repel ,she may try to raise a voice, but it won’t be heard ,anywhere …in this man’s world…she’ll have to remain mum at times for her family, her children…or at times to save her own sanctity from the society….just praying that he never opens up the secret to this cruel world…the world which will throw her off, the society which would spit on her. Not coz she loved him dearly, but coz she gave herself to a man before the societal norms allowed her to.
Yup, she’s alive today, but just an alive corpse….she behaves the way she’s asked to, she does whatever she should. Follows his brothers, father, and family…whatever they say.....somewhere in the heart she knows she did hurt them once, unknowingly…in a way she would have to pay off, pay off against her own desires ….may be for the whole life!
……………………………………………………………………………..
………………………………………………………………………

….and she decided to move alone.
Today she was fighting herself…the enemy was her own self, who longed for him…. But the conscious denied it!
She was fighting against and fighting for her love.

Same Rajiv without whom she couldn’t have lived without,
Today when he comes across, she hides somewhere. she changes her ways, walks back to the way she came from…just in a fear, that he does not take away from her, whatever has been left with her..

The long dark road

7:30 pm

It’s a winter evening. People prefer going back home early getting in blankets eating bhajiwada having tea, coffee with their families before it gets darker and colder.

I am walking back home from a coaching.

Didn’t have my vehicle today, nor could I find a face familiar enough to help me out. So, I preferred walking!

Walking has always been a preference it gave me a reason to loose pounds and somehow ensuring the pain I am taking is going to pay back. The distance I am supposed to walk is not longer, around four kms. But the time the watch is showing, the dark roads, no street lights, seem to make it longer!

There are people around me, but few in number. Every hundred steps I see a passer by. Rests are people on their bikes, and cars. All I can see are men at panwalas standing in groups on road side smoking and eating something. All I can see is darkness, but theirs enough light to walk past from moving vehicles and cars. Though I am a modern girl to say but I don’t dare to lift my face. I am somehow managing just moving my legs, bringing my destination closer with each step, but my footsteps seems to be smaller in front of the distance I am supposed to walk.

Suddenly a person on a dilapidated bicycle turns his head back at 180 degrees,

“Jaaneman akelee ho?? (Sweetheart alone?)”

“…” (Then he makes a comment I could not make out.)

I don’t respond.

He passes by.

(Something peculiar I have found in the opposite sex, they won’t call their own wife’s sweetheart, but would certainly mange this on roads!)

I am a bit disturbed for few seconds then I continue walking.

Its quarter to 8 now.

The ogling continues, with me being able to see just “men” around at this point of time.

But as a relief there are no more comments!

Every person passing by turns back, as if theirs something peculiar to my being.

I look at myself, if theirs something wrong with me, but the efforts ends in fail.

I hurry up, walking straight.

Somewhere may be in the minutest amounts is a fear.

A fear of some evil cropping, fear of something bad coming up.

I somehow manage keeping all my thoughts away.

I keep my head high, make sure I am alert and I assure myself am a big girl.

There’s nothing wrong which will happen…. No one can inflict any harm to me ……..No one can touch me.

And I hurry up till I see lights from a distance.

Light coming from lots and lots of small fluorescent tubes.

There is a market ahead.

I see some creatures of the same gender I belong to,

And the tension easies, lines on my forehead become a bit lighter and a feeling of security fills up!

………………………………………………………………………….

…………………………………………………………………

The situation may seem familiar to the weaker sex, they might have experienced it.

And even to the stronger sex, who would have played pranks, just for fun. I have tried to throw light upon the mental state a female goes through in such incidences. If you have something to say, you have something to share or you disagree, please shoot up!