Our Walk

Through the push-pull
doors,
Near the garbage,
Taking the right
when all move ahead
We complete our circle
of loo times and lunch ends
before we move to our desk

Our walk of a year and a half

With cups in our hands
and a pouch of coffee
or tea bags
Through the winding corridors
and lanes,
prying eyes turned our way
we walk and start
the vending machine's march

Our walk of some days and hours

Choosing the grassy path
with pebbles to add
we ambled to the class
or bunked and drove away far
to see the gujju land

Our walk, 2 years back

If i go to where it starts
through the roads
of memories past
through rocky lands
and sandy ones
It is always us, and its our walk...

All through the night

Her smile enchanting
and wise
was no longer charming
or nice

All through the night
She called the name
All through the night
She lived in shame

Struggling to keep
up the face
She needed some cheap,
some fake
disguise to take

"Oh, I understand
I see your point plain"
Those words are so bland
they give her much pain

All through the night
the words came back
All through the night
she felt it crack

And yet, she fakes
her smiles she wastes
on those who wouldn't care
if at all she was there...

All through the night
her heart would cry
All through the night
her sobs won't dry

Before the sun would rise
She would bring back her smile
As she would hide her sighs
And replay her guile

Enchanting and bright
Her smile would then shine
You will fall for that sight
You will not hear her whine...

In another world. On another day.

Someone I have known for years, probably for the longest period of my conscious life, told me this: "There are lives we wish we lived and we don't".

Like a move in the game of chess. You choose your move anticipating a certain response from your opponent. You also try to anticipate a number of subsequent moves by both of you and imagine a few scenarios. Sometimes you don't make a move, because you don't think it's worth it, or you think you are gonna lose much more than gain from it. You plod on. The board seems to keep you in a positive situation, in control of any setbacks.

Life does not give you a chance like it gave to Evans in "The Butterfly Effect". You can't go back and change your moves, you can't try it out and change again to create a win-win situation for everyone. Even Evan couldn't, but he tried the best one possible.

How would I be if I had done things differently? Made different choices, or let others make different choices for me? How many infinite different worlds could i have on this day in this same world? Or would it be like a Goosebumps story book, where the routes are numerous, but the ends remain very few and finite? So, even though I would have made very different choices, I would still be where I am...

And she left

She would mumble in her sleep
and in her wakefulness
sometimes with anger
at others, uncomprehending emotions

Her fear for an enemy unknown...
Someone or maybe something
from the distant past
would haunt her
and it would haunt all of us 
when she screamed
"They are coming to kill us! Don't leave me alone!"


Who were they?
From where would they come?
Will they come today?
Today, when the day was misty
and sun rays felt like a mother's arms
While a light wind blew
and the roads were calm.

How do i tell her

the one who gave me birth

that she needs to go

to wash her hands

after she spilled her food

when they were coming

the ones i could not see

or hear their words...

How do i tell the world

that i am tired of taking care

and now would love

to be the one taken care of?

Will i be forgiven for wishing

for my release

when i asked to be freed of her?

Would my care be questioned

or will my sigh of relief

be understood for what it was?

or was not?

How much did i love her?

Oh yes I loved her

But could not take her pain away

I saw her decay slowly

like a prisoner in her body's cage

Till the final breath had left her...

Left her

and left me to myself

as the night seemed to fade...

The Evil One

Yes. The evil evil one.

The one who gives you the bitter truth.

The one who says goodbye, because it is the best for you.

The one who has to be mean and relentless, without a heart, so that your heart does not break again.

The one who will tell you, you are a spade, not because you should remain one or feel bad about being one, but because it knows you can be so much more if you would try a little harder than today.

The one who is the bitter medicine for the cure of immeasurable illnesses.

The one who becomes the hated one for not saying a yes to whatever you say.

The one who is truly your friend, who loves you with your mistakes, who judges you before the world gets a chance to do so, guards you from the pain that you might face, who is there not only when you need it but also when you don't know that you do need it.

Thats the evil one. The one you love to hate.

Another tale

She's so in love with me, she doesn't know anything.
That's why she is in love with me.
~ Haruki Murakami

Where were we? Yes right there. Hiding behind disguises. Till the breeze would draw apart the veil from the eyes. After all how would a blind person miss the colours which he can't see. Till the cloud would hide the strength of the burning sun. And how would anyone miss the warmth, when they can feel only the cold wind...

But the mirror does not hide the truth. And it did not hide it from her.

So when he came and smiled at her, she let go of the disguise.

"I love you"... trailing off

"Good thing." With a full stop.

No love no glory, no hero in her sky.

Not refusal. Just acceptance but with a sealed future. A future which has him and her, but not them. And there the tale ends.

Drunken Love

Drunken
the cup of love
and shoved it up
my own throat
till there could be no more
drops

Love
is to lose control
to let go
of your thoughts
of the rules
and let yourself flow
so drunk we are
i lose my words

Drunken
in a dead stupor
i walk
right into his arms
i jump
without a care of where 
i would finally fall
if i have his hands
in mine
and he is by my side

Love
the short breaths
the long gasps
like a queen
in a trance
dancing the final dance
while he is the rhythm
of my beating heart

Drunken
in Love
i'm piling up
the stolen stars
we picked up on our
rendezvous
when the roads were bad
and the sky was true
and he was there
to fly me through

Love
this Drunkenness
and all the fun
of my wild run
into the lion's den
i rushed
and made a home
in wilderness
where love is true
and drunken too...

Best Friend Fights

When I think Best friend, the name & the face changes according to my age and the place I would be in. Different people have had that tag, and are now named as my best friend from Rourkela,from Durgapur, from Delhi, from MICA, from Mumbai, from office, from hostel..and so on. Even in those lists there are hierarchies. Like some are the bestest of the lot. So what happens when you fight with one of the "best" ones?

Do we fight on life changing issues? Never. It is always something really silly, but there is a lot of hurt involved, because of the "how could she not understand this would hurt me" syndrome.

And when that happens there are certain rules, that are followed. Always.

1. Never talk about it to your boyfriend or your mother. There is an underlying power play at all times between your best friend and your boy friend or your mother. This would be the time, when the power play will have a winner. Trust me, you wouldn't want a winner in that, especially after your anger has calmed down and you don't really want to hear "I told you so!"

2. Never talk with the closest next best friend, who the best friend knows. They will try to play mediator, and it would look like a breach of trust. 

"How could she tell J about our fight? So, now J is closer to her than me!" 

Long cold war will ensue.

3. Don't try and send text or e-mail messages to put your point across. Each and every syllable would be replied to with sound logic, thought over after reading, re-reading and consulting. And you would realise, how many different perspectives the same word would take.

"When I wrote 'That was mean', I did not say 'mean' as in horrid person, but 'mean' as in something that hurt me." 

It will take you forever to get the word's meanings and perspectives on the same plane.

4. There is bound to be huge ego clashes.

"She slammed the door on my face, she has to come & talk"

"She did not even try to calm me down. She just coldly stayed in her room".

Wait for them to subside. They eventually do.

5. Talk only to strangers who have no possibility of knowing your best friend or ever meeting her. Or who have the shortest memory. Fights should never be retold by a 3rd person. Leads to worse fights.

I don't know about others, but my fights usually ends when i hug her, or do something nice for her, or just go and talk about completely non-related stuff. Its like saying I am sorry, but not really saying it. By opening communication and taking the first step and saying lets move on. And the best part is,when my best friend understands and accepts this as the apology and life moves on again and we are back to being the closest ones. And life is beautiful & happy again.

Signify what?

Every time I look at my triple ring earrings, I can only think of gyroscope and the guy who took away the magical delicate feeling from my trinket and brought physics into it.

There are a few sarees that my mom wears, which I can't ever let anyone else wear, as they are somehow typically my mom's. It has her colour, her smell, her individuality woven into each and every thread. It looks foreign and odd on anyone else.

Euphoria's Ab na jaa, is the most played song on my i-pod, which I would sing to myself as I would walk the roads of MICA on endless nights and wish for that someone to stay with me. Even now when I look at that song name on my playlist, I can't help but get reminded about that person...

Kabhi Neem Neem song would bring the bengal beauty's voice into my ears and I would dwell on the times when we used to sing like crazy and entertain people with Pyaar aaya pyaar aaya encore with choreographed Priyanka Chopra dance.

December and depression, always hand in hand.Some of the best beginnings and some of the worst ends happened simultaneously.

Some streets, some movie, some particular scene, some special food,some restaurants, some specific phrases...I have held on to them.They signify something, someone. People forget. People remember the important life changing moments, i cherish and live the smallest ones and maybe that is why I can never forget anyone...

Free Bird

That night

he was not what

he thought he would be

No guile

was felt in the words

he whispered in my ears

And i believed him

I believed him

even though he broke my heart

and never turned to look back

I believed him

even though those were words

And he never seemed to be true to that

And yet

my heart feels lighter

my excuses brighter

I feel I have lived my part

And now

the wings are free

And I fly like I can reach the stars...

PM: New Love

I knew this would happen, but I thought it would take a few months. But things don't happen that way with me. Do they?

So we got talking and once while returning from lunch, he makes a comment, "Nice b***!". And no, he is not walking behind me, so obviously it is not my posterior which is getting complimented. As if my hearing that comment was not enough, it is followed by a "Don't you think so?". So now I have to be a part of this scanning program. And I join in. Quite enthusiastically.

So now, we are girl watch buddies. If he does not point it out to me, I point it out to him. We share stats and record new faces. And I am sure someday he will come up to me to tell me that he is in love with one of those "Hot" girls, and I would be his helper in his quest. His accomplice.

But sometimes, it just happens, that you care for the person and it does not matter if they care for you or not. You are just there for them. Almost unconditionally. And I was there. I guess I will always be there.

PM: The next step

So yes, this friend of mine wanted me to name the M&A blogs AM to symbolise what happened in the day and PM, as what happened later...but well, as nothing was happening later, so I stuck to M&A.

All that has changed. We talked. But something remained the same as before. Nothing really happened. So now we are friends.

Like all the other nice guys I have doted on, this one became a "good friend" (one tight slap to the one who created this word. Loser.)

The thing is that, I don't fall in the "Hot & Happening" "Eye candy" category, nor am I the "Sophisticated one". I am just plain cute and to some extent mischievous, and more like the "guys". Oh I so want to be a "girl"! *pouted face*

So now I feel the flutters come and go, but I am calmer and decently well behaved and don't jump up and down when he passes by me.

The stories, later.

True

I love you
Even when I am tired
And want to throw in the towel

When I look out
At the smart, witty joker
Or the suave sexy guy

When I get compliments
from strangers
And friends from days far

When my day is bad
And the night does not
seem to end

I love you
For reason unknown
For knowing you are you
Not some mirage

For being a friend
a lover
And everything in between

For saying the truth
And not some made up lies
to please me for a moment

But standing by
When the world passed by

I love you
And someday you would know
And not ask me why
And not ask me to prove
what I feel for you...

I love you
I just do.

M&A 7

I got a feeling, that tonight's gonna be a good night!

Guess what, I am standing in the queue to the lift [yes, nowadays we have a long queue because of the stupid 7,8,9 floors people who have crowded our not so crowded office building x( ]. But today I am not grumpy with them. Because, he was standing a little ahead of me in the queue, which in my morning hassled mood I did not notice, till I got into the lift and looked up, to see him right there!

My defensive armour took over in a split second and I looked away into the closing door. 30 seconds of close proximity.  For the 1st time I did not mind the lift stopping at all random floors. I would rather have it stop at each floor, than get me out fast. Finally my floor came, and I stepped out confidently, urging myself to not look back. And I didn't. Till I beeped my card. And when I turned he was still looking at me!

I got a feeling, a feeling, a feeling, feeling, feeling... :) :)

M&A 6

A sip of well-made coffee always makes me happy. Coffee & conversations, is what has been doing the rounds of a lot of discussion. So, I thought why not try that.

"I think I should walk up to him and ask him, if he would come and have coffee with me in the canteen. What say?". I looked expectantly at my friend to give me an enthusiastic go ahead. But what ensued was a barrage of questions to break my superbly positive spirit down.

"Have you ever spoken to him?". "No"

"Does he know your name?" "No"

"Do you have common friends?" "No"

"How will you start the conversation?" "I will say hi, lets have coffee...no..ermm..sounds a little off, does it?" Damn!

Then she gave me that look of really now, stop-getting-desperate-it-is-just-another-guy-now look. Or at least come up with a better starting line. So I am stuck with good coffee, yet to be brewed into our conversation. Some day.

M&A 5

Hours in front of the mirror I would stand. Literally.

Should I keep my bangs on the right side or the left? Should I tie it up in a pony or should I just hold a few locks lightly, while letting the rest of the hair free? Is the blue kajal higlighting my eyes or should I make them dark with black? Is this top making me look fat or hiding those mean-never-leaving-my-sides flabs? Should I apply the muted peach on my lips or the bright and vibrant pink and red? I change the colour of my nail polish. Thrice. 

The quest for that perfect look. Every day.

Now when I think about it, I never really noticed what he wore. Not his shoes, his shirts or anything. But I would be dressed up and hoping he would compliment me, or rather notice the pains I took to look my best. Even though unlike the really awesome women like my roomie, my lipstick would hardly stay a few hours (I am exaggerating, hardly an hour!), my hair would be in disarray and as a rule my nail polish would smudge.

So, I shouldn't really bother. And he should notice me, not how I look. Right.

Let me run now. I need to get ready. I am meeting him in another 3 hours! Now what should i wear???

Epilogue

This is for you

Not the one who you have become

Only if you knew

My heart's favorite song

was the rhythm of your heart

when it held me close...

Only if you knew

Your fingers slightest touch

could make me fly

over the walls...

Only if you knew

That i desired your thoughts

More than the way you looked

or talked...

Only if you knew

You were my inspiration

Patience's personification

my own philosopher's stone...

Only if you knew

You are my master

And I your slave

in all days to come...

Only if you knew...

You would be what you were
Not what you have become

An image from my past

And I want you back

Only if you knew that...

M&A 4

Questions. So many of them.


"But why?", that's like his favorite phrase. It irks me most of the times. I react to it. I try to answer. 

"Why would you do that? Why wouldn't you try it? How do you know it is not good for you? What is good?", he would rattle these off and I would be searching for an appropriate answer. It is only then that I realise that I have not thought of most of the things I do.

I have started thinking. I have started questioning my values, beliefs & the truths I have lived all my life unflinchingly with blind faith. Yes, that's the word. Blind faith. By making me question everything, he has made me believe in him blindly. I question the thoughts in my head, thoughts that were lying dormant in my head. 

And I hope as we get more talking i would have a better answer than "I don't know. I just know that's just the way I feel about it."

He smirked again. Victory to him. Damn!

M&A 3

Matching, matching. There are signs all around.

What all nonsense I do to show a connection. Today I am wearing red, he is also wearing red. See, we are in the same mood, same wavelength. Next day, I am in white, he is in black: Opposites attract! Today I am wearing stripes, he is wearing checks: Complimentary. Yes, I know I have completely lost it. I see signs where there are none. I am looking for signs, to prove me right, to give me hope. To keep the spark glowing. 

And there, he went to have chai just as soon as I did. We are destined to meet I tell you. Or till I get some sign to say otherwise.

M&A 2

Arguments. Thats the catch word.

I can argue for hours as then I can be heard. It is fun to just disagree and continue the conversation with logical and illogical reasoning.

"There needs to be at least one person at home to look after kids", he would say, adding "I want 3 of them. 3 is perfect." So even though I am a strong believer of not working after having kids, I would still argue for the rights of a woman to work after kids. "I want only 2 kids, a girl and a boy.", I would rant away in mock indignation. "2 kids is so middle class!", he would say with that condescending smirk on his face.

Stumped. A statement that beats logic, and is purely judgmental. But still, that shows a point of view, which is better than the not ever taking a stand and being politically correct people.

M&A 1

He took my phone. Went through the images. Stopped at some for more than a second, with an impressed kind of look. Relief. But mostly he just scrolled through. And I could stare at his face. Unabashedly.

You know that feeling... The kind of perverse pleasure of watching a movie your parents don't want you to watch on mute or low volume after they have fallen asleep? Or reading a story book when you are supposed to study? That is how I felt when I could look at him for one minute straight.

But then he looked up. And i looked straight, cold, detached, an absolute lie. While he said nice pics, and my heart flew away. Jumping across the buildings and into the sea to watch the sunset, savor the last rays of the sun on my face!
And so the day was bright again!

M&A: Intro

Flutters.


Thats the feeling in my tummy when he passes by.


Did he catch me trying to look at him from the corner of my eye? Did he notice the blush that rose on my cheeks when he came and sat next to me? I could not say a word. He would have thought I am so cold. So uncool.


But what to do, whenever he speaks, my heart melts in my mouth and time stands still. I seem to have lost my tongue, and all I have is a blurred demented vision.


I will tell you the stories. Later.

A piece of me
looks for a piece of you
another piece is sleepy now.


A piece was here
in her dream world
One piece out there
wants to fight the world


Its pieces now
Not one whole me
a piece of me
searching a piece of you


Like giant jigsaw
puzzle
in all shapes and sizes
Some smoothened edges
some deepened voids


A piece of me
wants a piece of you
A piece of me
can only give a piece to you


Till then the pieces

are lying

some face up

some face down

some buried under a heap

waiting to see the light of day

or the dark moon...

A piece of me

and a piece of you

will join someday

complete the face...

Sometimes, love is not enough

i would run
across the fields
jump through the air
and fall.
Scrape my knees
and arms.
Mom would wipe 
the tears
and her hug would warm
my heart...
My palms would bleed
and leave their marks
reminding me of the mistake made...


Sometimes, love is not enough
to heal the pain
the stains still remain...


To be a doctor
was a dream i chased
for 12 years or more
and failed
in my sole attempt.
Dad gave his shoulder
for my tears
and whispered "You tried my love,
that's all that matters"
"Yes i tried and failed"
Now i search for another
mad dream to chase
a dream that makes
my waking hours bright
and life worthwhile...


Sometimes, love is not enough
to help you win
your sole childhood dream...


In my life
i saw a lot of grief
i stooped again & again
to pick up the broken pieces
and make them one.
i gathered, i tied
i held them all
and loved them
with all my heart
making them my reason
to feel alive...


Sometimes, love is not enough
to make you live


Sometimes...
love is not enough
love is just a shield
from utter loneliness
that i feel...

Knotted love

Too soon to untie

knots

and smoothen

the frayed ends...

i pick one at a time

which pulls

and stretches

the fabric of my life

and i fear it would be torn

to bits and pieces

if i tried too hard

or remain knotted forever

if i let go...

unsure

for the first time

i waver

at every step taken

and look back

for all that was wrong

search for the rights

to push me on...

its the promise

of finding you

that keeps up my will

to try and not give up

its the promise

of celebration, festival of lights

that i smile

and hold back the tears

for some other day,
some other hour...

Fanciful tale

Tinkling anklets
Instead of beating heart...
Fingers entangled
through the web of stars...
Your frown
will drown
in my endless laugh


Stars turn their face
they feel too shy
they know not why
i hold you close to my heart...


a step here, and a walk there
and we have reached where
i hear
your fears
in those empty words


Love i trust
would fill the empty bowls
and our soul
and we will have
our endless laugh
in the bed of stars...

My Daddy's song

It came along the way

sometime,

in the middle

not at the very start.

It came & held my hand

and i was cradled 

in your arms.

A song was hummed

in bass baritone

& sombre...

Yeh raat yeh chandni phhir kahaan

sunn ja dil ki dastaan...

Aapki pehlu mai aakar ro diye

Daastane gum suna kar, ro diye...

Rastaa wahi musafir hai wahi

Ik tara najaane kahaan chhup gaya

Duniya wahi duniya wale wahi

koi kya jaane kiska jahaan luut gaya

From Rafi to Mukesh

to Kishore's songs

i was held in a sway...

and slowly my eyelids closed

a smile crept through

and i dreamt away...

i have come a long way

but still when sleep deceives me

i sleep

listening to the same song

that you sung...

and sway to the beats

of your rhythmic pat on my back

and the warmth of your arms...

And as the night's shadow falls

i wish i were a kid again

with you holding me

the way only you can...

Words...

and the words won't form...

like those tears

which are hidden behind the layers

of undying hope...

cheap, easy catch.

my pride had a fall...

blinded by possibilities

i jumped, heart and soul

before i looked where the road goes...

Why is it that the smallest word

can hurt deeper than the Excalibur?

We would not be 'Us'

if she had not done that...

We are not 'Us'

because we felt that...

All the words

are just cacophonic noises...

they keep the silence at bay

but have no meaning left...

and i sit here

to put in words

what my heart can never say...

Yeh Dilli hai mere yaar

i miss the red brick walls
with some patches of pink and grey.
the rickshaws that drove faster
than normal legs could take.

And eat the chholey kulche 
made in large tin vessels
on the roadside, 
and Bunta near the gates.

Where PKKs were a rage
and colour coded
bags, bangles, ear rings and lipsticks
fashioned the place.

Where pierced nose
straightened hair (with blonde stripes!)
and one legged anklets
would always stay

Where ideals were fought
with passion and blood
and many more broken
and newly made.

Where Kurta, jhola
and chappals,
all made perfect sense.

I miss the life
that was constantly happening
while it always remained the same
just the faces changed.

The loud garish people
with warm, colourful hearts
with more colourful balloons
during Holi days

The place which calls itself

the heart of hindustan

And has some of the best brains

and brawns of the world

I miss it for all this
but more for the ones
who shared my laughter
and my grief
and they are still there
where 'We' used to be...

A bus ride.

Crack.
Something broke in there.
and the hollowness was back. 
shallow, deep, endless hole of nothing.
And i stand where i was.
Aeons back.


To those legs
mine were just another pair
of double x chromosomes.
Legs that would keep him warm
down there
where he needed to be held up.


I was free stuff.
Well, almost.
He had to travel anyway
Price of the ticket he paid
and then sat in comfort
of the closeness in the bus space.


i cringed.
the hard, wet window panes felt better
than those dirty hands
and legs
against mine.


But i couldn't speak.
Even though i know i have the right,
and i have fought for it more
than many i know.


i couldn't look into the eyes and say leave.
i couldn't raise my voice or my arms.


i cringed.
and prayed for the next bus stop.
And when it came i stood up
and left, without a noise.

Another one for Mumbai

It is the city with thousands lights
Of dreams, of men, of mad mad nights

You can run a million miles and try
this city will show you pleasures for life
Which grew from all its blocked up drains
and clogged up roads and houses bent...

They see the scum, i see the sky
and hope and hope for more delights
the potholes trip and scrape my knees
i stand right back, for Promised land

That land shall see one more new face
flash lights will shine on one more name
Till then i walk the crowded road
and smile on at that stranger's face...