Silent nights.

It's a mixed feeling. It was raining for days at end, to the point that I grew sick of it. All my washed clothes fell down and got drenched all over again. Initially, it seemed to be a refreshing change as the sky darkened and cool gust of wind started bringing the smell of earth to every seeking nose. But then the accompanying channels of water all over the place spoiled everything for me. To add to my misery, I found a cute pomerian hovering around a market, looking for a shelter from the pelting drops. Looked like it was abandoned by some rich family and some other canine had annexed its coveted kennel. It was a sorry sight and as I pencil in my thoughts tonight, my mind is consistently being drawn back to that poor dog. How desolate and lonely it would be now!

There is a little kitten that loves to stay in our dormitories. Her was a classic case of separation from her siblings and her mom. Her other frolicsome and perhaps more naughtier sister was run down by our relentless bus. But the fortunate kitten that our little one is, she was saved by our guards. She is as intrepid a cat as you would ever bump into. She has taken a liking to humans. She lifts her paw and chases your fingers deeming them to be some insect or her eternal foe, a mouse. If you are daring enough to get near to it while she is a bit sleepy, you can make out how much she loves being caressed or how she curls into a ball in your lap shedding all her fickleness for an hour of beautiful and rare peaceful sleep. I am a little worried about her. How would she survive the dreary winters and aberrant spells of rain? On second thought, every solitary kitten in the jungles or our gardens fight all odds and grow up and so our kitty would too! I hope she will.

For me years have worked the other way around. When I was a kid, the very sight of a dog appalled me. I steered safely past them and could never quite pat,caress or fool around with them. To me , they were a mad lot chasing rag pickers and suspicious men who never liked people drawing close to their meals. Cats were more deceptive and seemed more shy. They walked gingerly and were always on the prowl for milk or anything they could lay their whiskers on. As I have grown up, this sense of unfamiliarity has been replaced by a feeling of curiosity. I want to know them. Although I am yet to lift a dog/cat on my lap, there is a surge of love and satisfaction which holds me whenever I find a dog/cat engrossed in its own world chasing imaginary preys or enjoying forty winks on the beds of my friends. To them everything seems new and filled with possibility. They don't get bored walking the same lanes or sniffing the same soily corners. To them a park never grows old or a house never seems bereft of enjoyment. They would always find something to indulge in.

In a way, life too is a quest for that elusive thing that would keep us engaged all through. That one thing which we must seek all our lives without getting tired or bored. That little thing, procuring which, our faces would give the widest smiles of contentment. Take your pick. Live for it. Forever. Until you find it. And then rest in a benign way like the kitty on your lap.

The past is well past us!

A dry spell again! A rough patch or a sudden aversion is all it takes to stay put in the cocoon where I find solace and silence. I am not a cynical man. For that matter, I have loved life with a vigor which surprises me. But I am just sick of routine. I am not tired of the darkness that seems to envelop the world. I very well know that I am also a part of the gloomy picture. For some, I am the most sinister of minds that they have ever come across. I want to extend my apologies to such souls. If I had a device to turn that angst you feel when you bump into me into something lighter , I would have done that straightaway. Alas! I can't.

There is no need of remaining crossed with the state of things, forever. Every other day some ugly situation would arise in an unprecedented fashion to give you a bite of reality. Sometimes your worst dreams would come true. Friends on whom you were relying all your life would pull the rug out from under your feet and leave you deserted. Life treats you shabbily at times. It is a blunt truth. The sooner you realize that, the better.

What then remains to be done? Unwarranted outcomes, deliquescent relations would always remain there no matter how earnestly you want them to wane. It is very natural to get disillusioned in the face of such adversities. It is perfectly normal to shed some tears and shut all windows. But for how long? Invariably I have felt that eventually your heart settles down, starts gaining the poise and it conforms to the bad realities of life. Then it sends you a silent omen that signals that it is high time you started looking for newer options and broke the shackles of the past. And that is when you should cease the moment, kick the past in the butt, make friends with immutable truths and set out on achieving something more realistic. This time don't stake everything you have on one dream or even worse on one person.

The past is never past us. I may serve a thousand diktats here and still you would cling to it. You won't forgive people who ploughed through your heart. It is impossible for most of us to accept that our trust has been met with outright treason. But is past that precious as to barter all your happiness for it?

No body can improve the things for you. If you are in a pickle , you have got to pull yourself out of it. The past is like that creepy herb that would impede your progress by entangling you in it. How long you want to be in its captivity is entirely upto you. Every one has an innate machinery to deal with the ghosts of the past and come out shining. It might seem flimsy but losing your ground to old mishaps ain't the way.



Being unhappy forever simply doesn't sound right.

Enough is enough

Am I obsessed with myself? I only dish out angry, silly rants that no one even bothers to entertain. I am tired of writing about myself now. For a change, I want to stop patronizing all of you with conceited shit. Now, I would offer everything under the sun but myself.

* A philosophy is not philosophy if every one swears by it.

All of you are encouraged to halt my train of thoughts and opine in whatever way you can.

Silence is deafening

I have never known why silence intrigues me so much. Often when I stop by a famous book-store in Pune, my eyes seem to hover around for someone who is all engrossed in herself and perusing through some unknown novel. Fixation doesn't stop here. There is a certain charm in silence which words, somehow, have never been able to tap. I have lived alone, with a thousand thoughts bustling in my mind and but still have managed to look calm on the outside. I have celebrated alone and have adorned silence as a coat to hide my earnest desires of being loved/ cared back. I have always loved silence- but somehow I have never volunteered to smear myself with it. It just so happens-that life makes me a loner, murders my will to talk and a sudden huss replaces all the silly blah-blah that was rambling across my head. Sometimes, silence is thrust on us. At times, I have nursed a desire to sit besides my friends and talk to them about everything in this world, but I have found no one willing enough to listen to me.

I have always impressed people with my glib conversations- some have just marvelled at my never-ending zest for life, some have grown tired of my voice and have distanced themselves from me. A particularly sad incident happened a few days back when a summer intern at my place summoned enough audacity and darted straight to me and said," For all your wisdom and nature, I find you irksome. Your talk bamboozles me. I can't stand it.". It was so straight in the face, so brutally honest that I wasn't even able to respond properly. There are a thousand answers I have with me now but the sheer honesty of his confession is what has held me back. Why! I can't be interesting or engaging for every bloke on this planet. All I managed in retribution was , "It's ok". That was all I could muster and then silence prevailed. If I was a shadow of what I was some months back, I would have issued him one tight slap and would have not thought twice before doing so. But silence has conferred me that humility to inhale the severest of criticisms. Voice, on the other hand, has only earned me flak from everywhere. I am a terrible speaker, it seems.

So where I was? Silence draws me. There is this one particular intern, this time a girl who has captured me. She is so calm, diffident and drawn to her books that I can't help but admire her. Sometimes I have this strange urge to go upto her and listen to what she has got to say. I am sure her silence has got something more than what meets the eye. An agony or a broken dream, who knows?

I am still at a loss of words. A part of me wants to hit back at the impostor fella and let him know that I ain't a sissy if I haven't answered him yet. A part of me wants to embrace silence so that no such guy ever-ever comes to me with such blunt truths. The road to recovery seems to be a weary one.

Quickfix

Ok. The hiatus ends . A calm resides in my life after a flurry of upheavals. Life is so transcient. After long contemplations, battle with thoughts, turmoil, isolation...I feel like a pariah who has just been inducted back into his native village.

How is this summer treating you , pals?

Late addendum:: I visited someone's blog today. It was so full of wisdom, strength that it reminded me of a time when even I emanated that vibe. Well, he goes beyond that.

The art of rediscovery is something you pick up when everything you have learnt or believed in over the years , goes for a toss.

Fare not well! Fare forward, Voyager.

People often complain that I tend to be very mundane and preachy. A sermon is the last thing one expects from someone like me. On the surface, I have always been the one with life trickling down his eyes, all embossed in festivity and never letting sorrow get the better of me. It's time to shed that cloak forever. I have put on that veil of happiness long enough . Deep down , I am dying. A slow but certain death. I am dying with every passing minute. The falseness of the world is killing me. And the worst thing is that the dome of situations encircling me has led me to condescend to such a low standard that sometimes I am ashamed of myself.

I am only a shadow of what I used to be. Anger, Jealousy, hopelessness is turning me diabolic. All of you would pour sympathy on me and drench me with your concerns. Or even leave me unscathed inside the refuse of my own being.

I am retiring from everything. In the lookout for my lost soul. Till I find everything that eludes me now, I won't return here. A prolonged wait in store? May be... but sometimes it is better to stop than to keep moving into the shallow marshes.

Adios.

written on April Fool's Day!

"The page was lying lonely, blank
Until I decided to play a little prank! "

Back then on that day, it sounded stupid and just made-up. On a second read ( in fact several!! Poets always love their own creation..:P), I think fate metes out the same treatment to each of our barren lives. It always comes up with something that would knock you off, stir you back to action.

Q&A

1. Were you named after anyone?
No. Mom was doing her masters in sociology and I happened. She and her friends sat down and christened me over a cup of tea and samosas. A name to carry all my life was given to me in an evening roost. The word, as mom explains, kept recurring in her textbooks...it just got stamped on me.

2. When was the last time you cried?
It is plain clockwork. I see something sad and tears roll down. In my moments of quietus, I weep over a whole lot of things. And only strong people cry. Weak people swear and yell.

3. Do you like your handwriting?
Absolutely!! Cursive when I am all on my heels... when I am not listening ..I don't write at all.

4. What is your favorite lunch meal?
Any chicken delicacy. I would have loved to be a pure veggie..but the yummy chicken won't ever let me do it.

5. Do you have kids?
Nah!!

6. If you were another person, would you be friends with you?
Hell Yeah!!

7. Do you use sarcasm?
Have been caustic in my old times. But then figured out that sarcasm is just a cloak for the cowards who know not how to say things directly and with apt conviction.

8. Do you still have your tonsils?
Yes. And they trouble me with the slightest hint of weather change.

9. Would you bungee jump?
Chicken-hearted..(!!!)... me. Nope.

10. What is your favorite cereal
Bred on hay(!!) and bread. Never really liked the idea of cereals.

11. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
Depends on my level of energy. After a hard day's cricket match, I never feel like taking them off in a routine fashion. I toss them ..as soon as I can.

12. If you were to pick your own first name, what would it be?
I love my name. But if I were to change it willy-nilly, I would like to take one of Lord Krishna's names.

13. What is your favorite ice cream?
Anything involving even a crumb of chocolate. Also pineapple cake is a favorite.

14. What is the first thing you notice about people?
Just listen to them. Lend them your voice when they want to hear you. That is the only attention you need to give to the other party.

15. Red or pink?
Dark Red has something very sensual about it.

16. What is your least favorite thing about yourself
Perhaps I don't take criticism in a proper way and get all fumed.

17. Whom do you miss the most?
Friends. Family. Loneliness. I never leave any of them alone for a long....somehow they always find me.

18. Do you want everyone to complete this list?
Yep. That at least would test their patience, if anything!!

19. What color pants and shoes are you wearing?
Blue Denim and a dark green shirt.

21. What are you listening to right now?
Learning to Fly ..Pink Floyd.

22. If you were a crayon, what color would you be?
Blue

23. Favorite smells?
The aroma of the soil after the first shower, flowers and colognes. But I wish I was programmed to take in even the obnoxious smell of poverty inside me. That would have been something. The smell of the masses.

24. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
I think it was mom.

25. How do you know the person who sent this to you
Actually...I got myself tagged from Snow.

26. Favorite sports to watch?
Lawn Tennis...Football and t20 cricket.

27. Hair color?
Pitch Black.

28. Eye color?
Black

29. Do you wear contacts?
Nope.

30. Favorite foods?
Chicken.

31. Scary movies or happy endings?
Happy endings. At least ..in movies endings must be beautiful In real life, things end on a sad note.

32. Last movie you watched?
Slumdog Millionaire. For all the buzz it had created. I wasn't disappointed.

33. What color shirt are you wearing?
Green.

34. Summer or winter
Winter. For all its warmth and time it gives me to think and introspect.

35. Hugs or kisses
Hugs. Never been kissed. Never have kissed. Although I have had pretty warm hugs in the past.

37. Describe your pencil cup
Its a steel one. Gifted by two of the best buddies on my b'day.

38. Favorite artist(s)?
I am not an art person. But Leonardo Da Vinci was a genius.

39. What book are you reading now?
Two simultaneously. "Chicken soup for the soul" and " Gone with the wind"

40. What is on your mouse pad?
It is a plain black mouse.

41. What did you watch on tv last night?
All the news about the Oscars. And the Slumdog's juggernaut.

42. Favorite sound(s).
Songs hummed by me in my moment of solitude. Otherwise Pink Floyd and Kishore Da have me spellbound.

43. Rolling stones or Beatles?
Beatles.

44. What is the farthest you have been from home?
1776 kms to be precise. From one corner of my country to another.

45. Do you have a special talent?
Everyone has a talent for survival.

46. Where were u born?
Muzaffarpur, Bihar.

47. Favorite piece of jewelry?
Oye..I am a boy.

48. How did you meet your spouse/significant other?
It's a catch. I am not answering this. Lets say it was a sublime moment.

49. Favorite song?
Hard to zero on.

50. Favorite musical?
Certainly not Yuvraaj. :p
I have not been to any Broadway show yet.


Ok. I tag Vivek, Afaque.

...Pointless...

* The boy is safe. And my friend is all smiles. The lever malfunction was coolly treated by the docs. Here is a high five for you docs.

*This is one of those dry patches which hits every blogger. Dearth of ideas, lack of drive, shortage of words. I have very queer notions about this phase which many of you might even find derogatory or plain rubbish. Whatever..but there's gotta be some way to come out of this. Please drop in your hands in the river to save this drowning man.

*Studies are going okay. So all those ballistic and terrifying names of courses Quantum Mechanics, Non linear Dynamics and blah blah.. are on my plate this time. And they don't seem too unpalatable as they are made out to be.

* Had a low key class presentation today and it went well. So what's so peculiar about that? Actually from now on , every little success would be celebrated. So I am taking some friends of mine for a coffee at the BARISTA's. All these little things which we forget to rejoice ... in our life-long trail of the eternal joy.. really should not be allowed to slip past us... get hold of them and kiss every joy that comes your way.

* This calls for a hurray. Finally I have incorporated neatness and organization back into my life. Although I miss my shabby clothes and cluttered table like anything ..still there is a certain divinity in being clean. Scheming things well in advance leaves you asking for that thrill which uncertainty throws at you ... but at least all the uncalled for sorrows also get a good bye. Its real nice to sleep on a clean bed without a pen pinching against your back all night!!

*Caravan ..our Annual one day event is due and I am eager to get a seat and enjoy it. A bit of hooting.. some melodrama.. some perky numbers being danced upon..it makes at least one gloomy evening..... Okay.. Musical..is the word.

New Year....Really?

Sorry people for this long an absence from the arena. Actually all my ideas have dried up and my thoughts have locked themselves in some closet. How can someone spill with an empty stomach? But much like those waves that hit the shore and return to the sea...I keep resurfacing and vanishing.

Although, I had thought that 2009 would start with at least some optimism and hope, it has been no less a disaster. Little mishaps, huge mistakes and broken dreams. Apart from a new habit ( of washing linen.. and folding my clothes crease per crease ..), which has been picked up because I want to see if I am the same hostel guy I was once ..there are no positives to be had from the first 20 days of January.

As always, I have a line of goals filling up my journal , some crying out really loud to be realized and some pretty sure of themselves never coming to fruition. 2009 , has started up with fraud cases. Moral decadence is on an all time high. And as I am writing, boyfriend of one of my closest friends is struggling in a Lucknow ICU , battling a lever gone awry. Resolutions are already being broken everyday!!

Never really intended my first post of the year to be such low key and morose. All of you, like me, are fond of flashy beginnings. Also a silent end is what we normally anticipate. So, I must not flee without offering you some hope.

While Obama churns out his rhetoric speeches day in and day out ( God!! He must be speaking the truth..) , I would only say that nothing stays. Be it pain or some joy.. things once started have to have an end. So while we lie down and let out a groan which dies in the pillow... while our tears roll down our cheeks in memory of loses and harsh words of love-never-to-be reverberate in our ear canal.. we should only remember that all these things would pass. And one day when we would look back , we would only find that there is no reason big enough to shed your precious tears for. If need be, weep for the masses. Personal deadlocks and crises need to be dealt with fortitude. At the end of the day, endurance fetches a smile. Good times don't last but they never go too far from you.

Enough of humbug. I have no idea what I have written. I seriously think that whenever I go back and read ...correct for my mistakes , cull out a sentence or two.. or may be tag some ornate line..I am being manipulative. And a writer even if he writes awful, should write the truth.

I was pretty much out of the scene and so missed out on so many interesting posts which you might have put up on blogosphere. Perhaps now... I would read ....Lets see!!