Rehaan Ria Part 3

Oh...
I just wanted you to comfort me
When I called you late last night you see
I was fallin' into love
Yes, I was crashin' into love
Oh of all the words you sang to me
About life, the truth and being free, yeah
You sang to me, oh how you sang to me
Girl, I live off how you make me feel
So I question all this being real
'Cause I'm not afraid to love
For the first time I'm not afraid of love
Oh, this day seems made for you and me
And you showed me what life needs to be
Yeah, you sang to me, oh you sang to me
All the while you were in front of me I never realized
I just can't believe I didn't see it in your eyes
I didn't see it, I can't believe it
Oh but I feel it
When you sing to me
How I long to hear you sing beneath the clear blue skies
And I promise you this time I'll see it in your eyes
I didn't see it, I can't believe it
Oh but I feel it
When you sing to me

“Listen to me once. It’s not what you are thinking. I mean, it was my mistake.” 

Mistake? Did he actually call this a mistake!

The shame of Eve

When Adam shied away from her

And called her pleasure

Sin original.

The shame of Sita

When she was asked

To pass through fire for her

Purity tested by

And then left in the woods

for having passed it

The shame of loving

And being called

A mistake of one

And a one night stand.

“What I am thinking is that I should have thought about thinking earlier. The door is right there. I hope you know how to open it.”

“I should have just not asked to drop you back. I don’t know how I took that step. I am sorry. I never thought, never crossed my mind…this was my first time”

Yes. You told that to me enough number of times. I was so happy.  As if, this was meant to be. As if, this is the most innocent action of mine ever. Would I have reacted in the same way if I had not been drunk? ...I am sure I would. It was somehow not because of the alcohol. And that is weird in a sweet way. I am yet to make sense of it, but he, he is apologetic about it.

“I know I am unforgivable. I should not have made you do this!”

“Made me do this? Are you serious?? Do you really think you can make me do anything that I don’t want??? Leave now. Like right now.”

She is the most beautiful woman I ever saw. Ever. Even in her fierce anger. She shakes with it such that I want to hold her and protect her from herself.

“Riaaaa…”

Why doesn’t he just leave! And why are these silly tears coming to my eyes. I mean they just refuse to understand that they are not supposed to appear in front of others. I don’t want him to see me like this. But they just wouldn’t listen.

“Stop crying, please. That is not what I wanted. Can we have coffee? Just don’t cry.”

“You don’t have to give me your pity. I don’t need any.”

“Pity? No no no. Look, I am very bad at explaining things. And somehow I end up saying things that are not understood the way I meant it. I just don’t want you waste your tears on me”

She must hate me right now. How do I explain this feeling to her, that is so pure…so innocent? She would think I took a chance because she was drunk. I feel so mean.

“It is not you. It is me…”

How do I tell her? I am being unfair to her. She deserves much more than what I can ever give her. I should not have come this close. But it was overpowering. I never thought I had such strong emotions in me. She made me discover a side of me I never knew existed. But she needs to know about Shraddha…

“I have a girl friend.”

“So? Are you worried about me spilling the beans to her? I won’t go and tell her anything. So don’t you worry about that.”

“Uff! How do you come up with a completely different meaning to my statement? I thought I was wrong in not telling you about her yesterday. I did not intend to hide it from you. We just never got to talk about that. I thought I was being irresponsible in getting close to you without you knowing anything about me. Maybe I misled you, and I was feeling that I am being unfair. That is why I was sorry. It was not meant to hurt you in any other way.”

“You think too much where there is no need to think. Freshen up now. You okay with Maggi and coffee for breakfast? I am hungry.”

“Perfect combination.”

She walked towards the kitchen.

“Ria?”

“Ya.”

“You are beautiful.”

Her heart skipped a beat and started beating faster, while her cheeks turned hot crimson and she fumbled for words.

“There is a towel inside.”

To be Continued...and hopefully the last one :)

Rehaan Ria Part 2

Ankhen band kar lu jo mein , dekhu bas tumhe
Khwabon mein bhi keh sakta hun apnaa tumhe
Rehne de mera ye wehem pe hi yakin
Na jaoge

Pyar ki yeh raat hai ab na ja
Chotisi ik baat hai ab na ja
Tumhi se hai meri nee

ndein na bhi ho to kya
Tumhi se hai meri baatein na bhi ho to kya
Kehne de taaron ko kahaani ankahi
Na jaoge

Pyar ki yeh raat hai ab na ja
Chotisi ik baat hai ab na ja
Pal do pal ka saath hai ab na ja
Jaadusi ye raat hai ab na ja

Ab na ja

It was like she had come alive. She never thought that life could be so blissful. She looked at him sleeping with his chest rising and falling rhythmically. A half formed smile stuck on her face as she looked at his sleeping face which was like that of a child. Snatches of conversation came back to her.

“It is my first time. I am not sure how…”

“It’s ok Rehaan. Don’t think too much. It is alright.”

 And his pained face flashed across. He was nervous, excited and confused at the same moment. She smiled now and had this urge to give him a hug, but did not want to wake him up. She tip toed to the bathroom to freshen up and take her early morning shower. The morning was beautiful, as if the sun, the trees, the wind, the birds, everyone knew that it was a special day. Everything was perfect when she walked out to the balcony to put her towel to dry.

“Hey! You woke up? Coffee?”

“Umm…no…”

Okay. Something is not sounding right here.

“You are feeling alright?”

“Your room mate has not come in?”

Room mate? Why is he bothered about such things?

“I live alone. I have a habit of saying I live with a room mate to ensure random people don’t come home. I like having my own time and space.”

“Oh…”

Awkward silence followed.

Why am I getting this queasy feeling? What happened?

“Rehaa…” “Ria…”
“Ria… I am sorry. It has never happened with me. I have never lost control. I am sorry about last night.”

Sorry. He is SORRY for last night. He regrets it. This can’t be happening. I thought we felt something out there. Apparently not. ‘Sorry’. That is what he feels. I can’t bear with it.
You slapped me hard, my love you smashed

You spat that word, how ‘sorry’ you are!

Oh Adam! My love, here stands your Eve

Her love is true, not some serpent’s lure…

Don’t say such things, my pleasure’s not sin

Don’t say such words, hold me in your arms

It wasn’t some stint, a one night thing

I felt something, in our heart’s rhythmic ring…

Those eyes had seen, what lips spoke not

Those eyes look lost, that stole my heart

I thought you heard, I felt it so

But now unsure, I feel astray…

Oh why! Oh why! You wring my soul

Come close right now, Or forever you go…

“Leave right now.”

“Listen Ria…”

“LEAVE. RIGHT. NOW.”

Part 3 coming soon...

Rehaan Ria Part 1

Kisko pataa tha pehlu mein rakha, Dil aisa baaji bhi hoga
Hum to hamesha samajhte thhe koi, Hum jaisa haaji hi hoga

Hai zor karein, kitna shor karein, Bewaja baaton pe ainwai gaur karein
Dilsa koi kameena nahi, Koi to rokey, koi to tokey

Iss umra mein ab khaogey dhokhe, Darr lagta hai ishq karne mein ji

Dil to bachcha hai ji, Dil to bachcha hai ji
Thoda kaccha hai ji, Haan dil to baccha hai ji

Sorted. 
And that's when the fatal collision occurred. From nowhere. With no precursors, with no time for preparation.

Rehaan could not believe it. This was as new as anything can ever be. He was unsure of how to deal with this new surge of emotions which came with such force from nowhere and smothered him completely, leaving him completely alive and yet vulnerably raw.

He was one of the more stable guys one would have known. Not extraordinary in academics, average engineering student and then an MBA resulting in a job at E&Y. The work place brought out the best in him, and he moved up fast to become the Research Manager in 3 years.

Life was smooth and like any other 28 year old guy's would be: A sweet girl friend, a lovable family and a good bunch of friends. He was the quiet dependable guy for everyone. He was happy. But there were these days, when he felt life to be routine, that something was amiss. There was a restless energy all around him. Times when he wanted to just leave everything and go see the world. Feel life. Experience it. But how? Where? And responsibilities and duties always stopped him from taking any such rash step. These were thoughts he kept only to himself. If you asked his friends, they would say he was happy being this quiet one with a planned life.

And then he saw her.

Ria was eccentric. Happy in a moment. Sad in the other. Laughed out loud at the silliest joke, got angry for reasons unnecessary. She was, unpredictable on most occasions. She loved to say things that would shock people out of their wits. While at other times, the demure woman listening to elders. Loved her friends with passion and did not care about the rest of the world.

She was into film making and was assisting in Yashraj Films production. Theatre was a passion. After numerous failed relationships, she was sure that this was the one guy who was perfect. The understanding was at a new high. And she was getting over her depressive bouts and enjoying her life completely. Finally she thought she could make a commitment of getting married. Now she could look at it as something much more than a social license to make babies. She was at peace after years of turmoil.

It was New Year’s Eve and Ria agreed to go on an all girl's night to Club Escape. She wanted to usher the New Year with full gusto, to forget all the past and look forward to future. She drowned herself with mojitos and old monk while dancing to  Aahun Aahun Aahun. That is when she thought she saw someone looking at her.

Lucky Bugger is enjoying my non rhythmic dance of madness, she muttered in her head. And then got surprised. He smiled like he could hear her say it. Ignore ignore. You are just high and hallucinating. And again felt the same jabbing feeling like he could read her again and he replied by saying no you are not.

Okay. I think i need to get home. And that is when it happened. He came to her and said, "Let me drop you then." Zapped, Ria said, "OK" and started walking with him.

Outside, there was a nice chill to the air, fresh without the remnants of alcohol and smoky maze that the club had turned out to be in the few hours dance madness. She walked till some car's door was opened and she sat down and put the seatbelt properly.
"So where is your house?" "Andheri East. Sher-e-Punjab area."

Silence for a few moments, while he fiddled with the car keys and then tried to start the fm.

“10-9-8-…”

That is when they both realised that they did not stay with their friends till New Year.

“Happy New Year.” “Thanks. Same to you.”

“You stay with your family?” “Nope. Working here. Living with a flat mate. And you?”

“My family’s here.” “Hmmm…Nice…”

Hang on. What is happening here? Why am I going with a total stranger to my house? And more importantly, why am I not feeling scared. Did they mix something in my drink?

“My name is Rehaan. I work with E&Y. I have no ulterior motives in dropping you home. And I don’t know how I understand you, even I am stunned. That is why I thought that if we talked I would find out.”

“Ria.” Mental Note: Nice Voice. And I hope he did not hear that.

She could have said a little more than just the name. Ria and that is it. Especially when I am trying to figure out what is happening here. I don’t know what Tarun would be thinking. Left him there, without any explanation. What if somebody sees me with her and informs Shraddha? How will I even explain this to her? I should not have come here in the first place. There would be too many people who might get hurt. Who will be able to understand it?

“You okay, Rehaan?” “Mm-hmm”

“I am an assistant director at Yashraj films. Originally from Himachal. I have lived around the country as my father works in a bank.  Came to Bombay 2 years back, and have fallen in love with this city. Love the energy here and the freedom.”

“I like Bombay too. But hate its traffic.”

“Poor Bombay. So many people come here with their dreams, and it tries to welcome them with open arms in the form of roads and houses. But how much can it do?”

“Yaa. That is true. You write?”

“Why? I mean, what made you think so?”

“You have a way of saying things, like it is a story.”

“I have a blog. Let me send you the link to it. Your email?”

“rehaan@gmail.com And yours?”

“You will find it in the email I will send you.” After suitably fiddling with her blackberry, “There you go. You can check it anytime.”

“Okay.”

“Take a left from here. And then turn there. Stop in front of that black building. Thanks!”

“Let me take you to your flat.”

Is he nuts? How does he even expect that I would say a yes? The watchman will freak out if he sees me going up with a guy.

“No no. I will manage.”

Crash! She toppled over.

“Which floor?”

“5^th.”

And he dropped her there. Opened her door, took her inside and made her sleep on her bed before moving out. Just as he was moving out of the door, he looked back and she was standing there staring at him. Why did she wake up? Why am I not leaving? Why am I moving back to her as she moves towards me? What is this strange attraction, what does this intense feeling mean? This is not the me i have known for 28 years. Who is this? What is this?

And they kissed.

Oh! the flame within my heart

Burns with an unquenched desire

I now tread the path

That would lead me to hell’s fire

I thought I had felt

All that is love

Until your breath

Shot up the curve

Of my lips

Entwining them with yours

And sent that tingling rush

Through my arm’s folds.

I moved with you

As if I always knew

The shape of your arms

Were to take me in

And here I am

Awake, alive

You stole my soul

With those closed eyes.

And here i live

with this one night

as i watch you sleep

in my embrace tight...

to be continued...

Rage

Gnashing at the deepest chord,
Squeezing, straining
breaking my heart.

Overpowering is this stench of pain
Needles through the deepest veins

Pricks you here
and scrapes you there

Screams inside
the sound proof head
It hurts and hurts
but hear no wail.

No No. No way.
No words we say.
No words can speak
this anger's sway.

Wiped out. Wiped clean.
No trace remains
of love...of care
of friendship plain.

It's red, it's black
or ashen flame.
It burns and burns
and breaks the chain.

Love Lost

Was it not i,
you fell in love?

Was it not true,
the words we spoke?

Why does it feel
like a bondage now?

Why do questions make
the distance grow?

Shackled by whom?
Whose chain is that?

Who is this me
and who is this you?

Where have we lost
the Us we knew?

Just hold me once
and let me feel
our heartbeat, as they
used to be.

Just tell me once
and once again...

You feel the feel
the funny feel
the feel i feel
and i know its real.

Free. Finally.

This is for all those who heard my rants at the oddest hours...for known and unknown reasons...Thanks D,T,U,V,S,N.

Standing on the shore, she looked at the unending sea, felt the cool breeze, with a hint of salt, on her face, while the sun was rising behind her. She loved the sea...always did. The waves washing the shores, sea shells floating in and out of the sea, the perpetually moving sands beneath the feet, which refused to be held down by the feet while you stood in the water, while clinging on to you when you moved away.

The wave does not know where it came from and it will merge back with the same unending sea. The sand is unsure, in wave's company it does not care about the rest of the world...but once the wave leaves it alone, it craves for company, of anyone, even if they trample it all over. And then there are the rocks, who are stoic and strong when the sea gently caresses them, looking all strong and immovable, but when the sea rages, they crumble to pieces. It is the sea which gives life to so many animals, the entire reason why we exist on earth. But when the sea cries, in the form of rain, we don't share its tears, we joyously celebrate its pain.

And that is when she realised that she is free. She was at peace with the sea. The storm had passed over, and the rain won't come again for a very long time. At least the clouds have changed forever.

She was free. Finally.

Shadows and Silhouttes

It is not about her, but maybe it is about her.
December shivers
And shadows cover the sunlight.
And she fights.
The tears singeing the corners
Of her eyes
The phantom pain
Of her broken heart
The unfinished goodbye
And incomplete end of a beautiful start.

Oh! she fell
She fell and broke the wall
With her bare arms.
The fortress is broken, she is out in the open
Trying to hide behind the smile
Of deception. Of affection?

The burden is all hers, or maybe she forgot to share
And as the day draws near
Her words are unclear, unsure
Are her quivering thoughts
As she holds on to the last rays of hope
Of love that was hers.

The unknown face

When i heard those music notes
my heart flew by, my eyes were lost
it is the tune i hum and hum
sometimes with smile
sometimes in hurt


we were so close
and yet so far
the crowd had swum
he stood afar


forlorn my eyes looked at my star
and sang the song that held me there


i charged on now
to try once more
it was right then
some stranger called
he led the way
and made a path


i was right there
now face to face
swaying by the strumming notes
the stranger there now heard my laugh
and laughed with me, an open heart


i stood and swayed and sang and danced
and when the last note died down
i moved away and left the town


and now i sit and think aloud
i wish i knew the stranger's name
and say thank you
for that moment spent...

To Forget

I wish to forget
The smell of Barista mochas
And kulhad wali chai
The turns of Connaught Place
And the long auto rides
The bells of Kali Bari
And the silence inside
The mosquito bites in the dark dark night
And the jump through the gates
And crashing delights


I wish to forget
And I shall start forgetting
little by little
Like I forgot your smile
The one with the twinkles
Like I forgot your phrases
Till someone did something incorrigible
Like I forgot the words on the small piece of tissue paper
That had all your wishes noted down
Like I forgot the prophesy of the astrologer
Who made me a mother
Like I forgot that your favourite song
Was mine too
I shall forget
I shall forget soon
Just the way
You forgot me

Sojourn

Note: Wrote this for Black Coffee in 1st year

Dawn…

A new day begins, while another comes to an end…
The darkness had not receded, though the birds had started chirping somewhere far away in the distance.

"Coo…cooo!" The koyal's sweet call permeated the damp dewy air around me. I lay on the lawn, looking at the faint shadows of the last few stars left on the blue-grey sky. The smell of morning was all around us.

It was the same place where we had met for the first time. The first look was a mixture of shyness and excitement, apprehension and hope. I don't recall the exact words though. The bursts of laughter seem like a sound from a far away land. The soft songs waft through the mind's

maze…and there is this hazy picture of dance.

It seems just like yesterday, and yet it's been so long now…

"Let's go for a walk…"

"Umm hmm"

Our walk…

The roads used to be a maze in the beginning. I would always get lost in the way, asking people to show me the right route to take. At other times, I would just follow the ones ahead of me, hoping at least they would be smarter than me. But through the weeks and months, this was

our route, an unsaid, undefined road which we took without giving a thought.

The cold pebbles under our feet were soothing and smooth. I held my slippers in my hand. A breeze was moving the tree tops, and gently caressing us as we took our stroll. The bela flowers' fragrance intervened into our thoughts.

"Ding! Ding!"

Someone was at the temple. I could not register a name to that face though. The shuffling noise of his slippers moving against the ground was the only conversation that one could hear between us. Who would know the conversations we had without using words. Our silence spoke

so much more.

Thoughts. When you try to put them in words, it makes sense…but it misses so much that can not be put in words. Its like a kaleidoscope, you turn around a bit and the image changes. You miss out a few words, and the feeling is lost.

The guitar was being played with the beating of the drum while the synthesizer went on with its tune. Three different instruments, having different tone and a music of their own, and yet when they came together they had a character of their own.

"You want to go and listen to them?"

"No, it's fine here."

Sitting near the tyre swing we sipped a cup of black coffee, as the sun was lightening up the horizon behind Silver Oak. All those days of fun, of riding on the chhakra to FR, of late night arguments on the suitability of a 12 size font of Calibri and not 14 of Times New Roman, the chilling water on the birthdays and taste of chocolate cake on your face, the triumph of pulling through a show at the shortest notice given, the fights and cold wars, the sarcasm and wit and

lifelong friendships.

The day was about to begin, we could see the sun's blurry rays lighting up the sky…a new day, and the end of a lifetime.

"Coffee's over. It's time to go"

The Burial

Its been 2 years! seriously!

Rewind. Play. Rewind. Play...sometimes slow sometimes fast forward....

The dry drooping flowers in a vase whose water has gone stale stare down at me. "We stink within a week of death. The stink stays for a few weeks, the patchy stains for months...but its been 2 years. The stink is gone. The feeling is dry and numb. Now let go. There is no recognition. Just give it a decent burial."

But they were real, alive, full of life...with a sweet scent and vibrant colours. It wasn't the showy plastic ones with forced sticky dew drops. They changed with the changing water...or perhaps the stem were not long and strong enough...

How do you pick up the pieces of dust, which brings water to the eyes, irritates you at times and sometime hurts you inside...? Like how? And what about the dried thorns? They still pierce deep and make you bleed.

So i look at them yet again, pick up pieces from here and there, unable to throw them or keep them close to me...wishing to find the right undertaker for this mammoth task...

And the burial comes back to haunt..

Why didn't i burn them? And end all physical connection. Not a coffin stone, 'cause the coffin gaped open at the first jolt of the earth, and it came back to the top.

Go away! Just go now! Leave me to myself...let me not burn in this fire...let me not get charred...

Friends, Indians, Countrymen

Lend me your ears

i have come to bury it all...

and here it ends

no ashes remain...

One of those mornings...

“Coffee ready! Come over now.”

The day had begun with the right smell from the big black cup. The ruffling newspaper, the humming noise of the fan and ringing puja bells in some neighbour’s house permeated the room. Weekends have a different tinge altogether, the room seems cozier and the sofa softer and time seems to move lazily in the morning.

Aise jaagi re mai raat, koi neend ko tarse neend nahi…

“What’s the POA?” “Nothing…you tell me.”

“Movies?” “Naa…nothing interesting…”

“Hmmm…you wanna meet xyz?” “Nope…”

“You wanna shop? Go some place?” “Don’t feel like it.”

“Then say something that you want.” “I know what I don’t want as of now!”

And that’s how most decisions of life have been taken by me. It’s not based on what I want but by removing the things that I don’t want and staying with the remaining. Life proposes, and I dispose it off.

I don’t want to be an engineer. I don’t want to stay in a small city. I don’t want high heeled shoes. I don’t want over protective people around me. I don’t this, I don’t that…

I walk a lonely road, the only one that I have ever known…

“Where you lost? The coffee’s really nice.” “Yes…it is beaten to perfection…”

The funny thing in these phrases is that they reflect a lot of things. Beaten to perfection…but who decides what perfection is. So many of us are beaten into becoming what we never thought we would be finally. We continue to question our actions even after the rest of the world is no longer concerned. Socialised, internalized, and trained. Spontaneity is also something we have learnt, and nothing comes naturally. I wonder what I would be like if I had not been told to do the things that I was told. What would I be like; if I had not met the people I met. They touch your lives, and their marks stay even after they are no longer there around you.

Like this cup of beaten coffee, which I had learnt from her, long back, somewhere in that historical part of me…

Now I am living in your afterglow…

“Feel like just catching up with myself. Guess will pick up some book and stay home.”

“Hmmm...ok...then I am off to my movies.”

Thhodi ankahee sunni sunani hai…

Conversation

It was a time warp: the same silent pauses and trickling thoughts and images. You could hear the laugh resounding through the hall with unfinished desks and chairs. And also feel the swaying dance on the collection of English songs. The whispers and the rush of blood to those cheekbones, ending in long conversations on the phone.

And us. At the very beginning.

“Sing a song.” “Now? You want to wake up the world to throw me out?”

“It was there…wasn’t it?” “Yeah…it was…”

The comfort of being silent and yet saying it all out, of reading the mind and the heart too, is difficult in today’s world of constant communication. You know, not the awkward silence, when there is nothing to say and you keep thinking what to say next, or hoping that the other person would pick some topic, or just leave. But the silence which you enjoy, where you are yourself without having to explain who you are and you wish that the words were lost forever and no one speaks again. That delectable silence was with us, around us, enveloping the real world.

“I still have that…” “What?”

“The last one you wrote…” “That was poison…throw that away…it can only hurt.”

“Yeah…it hurts the most…but I can’t let go of it…”

You would think why keep the last one, the one with the worst thoughts, the hatred, the anger, the hurt…when I threw the sweet ones away, the ones that would give the smiles, and lessen the agonising pain, the ones that would make me believe again…where it still was a fairy land.

But I can’t…it’s like the marks on the moon, or the thorns of the roses, which keeps reminding how it was not perfect, nevertheless beautiful in its way…it played its part in making me the way I am…and I surely don’t regret that.

“Wouldn’t you have written the same things?” “No. Never.”

“You can’t feel what I did.” “I can.”

Are we fighting? No we are not. There is no point in fighting now. There is no weight left. Time a healer? May be, maybe not. May be forgiving is the best way to alleviate the pain. When you can’t answer the recurring questions, and the questions hurt more than accepting things to be the way they are, like suspension of disbelief…I m going to literature again, using it to serve my purpose…

Or I am just being an escapist.

“It’s late…” “Hmmm…”

“Good night then…” “Ya...’gnite”

Trrrrrup Trrrrrup Trrrrrup <engage tone>

Left Behind...

and there he left again..
the he changes,
but leaving continues...

to love and define
to care and cry
to hold but not too tight

numb and frozen
hurt? whats that?
just rambling on...

words have no meaning left
alphabets with no thoughts
the walls are growing stronger
a fortress of isolation

i sit here
life moves on....