An Old Man's letter

This is not the first of the string of the letters I have written for you, written to you. Nor is it any different in its content. If I carefully search the stack of papers lying in the drawers , I am sure I would find at least a thousand of them gathering dust in there and aging. Nothing has changed. This boy is same and the girl is same. Perhaps there is a gradation based on the “yellowish” tinge on these letters that has intensifed over the years. Some letters are more brittle and too old to last another sad season. From each issues the same smell of young love. The same old lines, oozing of boyish restlessness and ready-to-take-world-by-storm dreams fill all of them. What should set this one apart is perhaps the way of narration. I am not so young now. Back then, I didn’t find it necessary to jot how I caught a glimpse of you and how you never left me from there. You followed me everywhere. In my dreams, in my wide-eyed meetings, in my games, in my tense moments of truth and lies. Practically everywhere. Like half of my colleagues, even I found you in school. One thing about school romances. They always stay green in your memories. Now, when I lay my back on my Lazyboy and see my grandson hovering around the house , pestering his mom for pocket money or her persuading him to eat at least something, I relive all my moments. Even I was a tough child to tend to. I never found anything too sumptuos and hid the pieces of bread in the crevices of the sofa. I am sorry. Back then I never maintained a notebook… I didn’t have the faintest idea that some 30 years hence , an old man would sit in his courtyard and reminesce. I don’t remember the date. But the scene is vivid to this day. You, like all those Hollywood sweeties, entered the room with an air of nervousness. I was biting my nails and foolishly looking here and there. Call it chance or a boy’s knack of spotting lovelies, I spotted you. My eyes followed you all the way and they did that pretty fearlessly. But once you took your seat and got settled, you too looked around , only to meet my whacky-onlooker’s eyes. But I just couldn’t get them off you. I nearly got myself killed.

It has been years and I haven’t heard a single sentence , no not even a broken one, addressed to me. When we bumped across each other, I was too afraid to begin the proceedings. I have a feeling you were no less uncomfortable. Why is it the most difficult to talk when you know all you have got to do is just start with a “hello”? Some say that “sorry” is the hardest word. My money is on “Hi” and “hello”s.

And now you have been silenced forever. I can’t even eavesdrop your silent conversations with yourself. I would make an exit without a single syllable of yours to treasure. Between you and me , lies a big fat book. Blank pages are all that exist. Thoughts and murmurs , raring and crying loud to be written upon these pages. But who would write them? You are dead. And even I am on my way to funeral.

I know , these letters , are all that this world would know about us. And one day, even these would succumb to the moths. But what can we do? Sometimes, silence is not very golden.

I am ending my cameo tonight. Enough of this yearning. Enough of pain and just too much of waiting. I hope, that one day when someone stumbles upon this letter, he would know that being silent is not always the right thing to do. He would make a dash to his love and let her know. Good-bye, World. I am done.

some mirage ahead?

Again, I would hide things from you all. Only I would seep in my word that the sun is smiling at me now. All of a sudden, good times have returned and I can't help but beam.

* I have made out with two best friends of mine. No explanations, no grudges. I think that's the perfect way to patch up. When you grope for answers as to why things went brown in the first place, you jeopardize your present. It's light for both sides if old things are not dug out.

*I have started clicking pictures for the forthcoming competition in my college. Call it mean or whatever, I hovered around the shanties that look like mushrooms bordering the glassy building of my college. The children were so happy to pose.... some of them even risked breaking bones trying to be shot midway their flight ( a jump from a high area..)... It was a revelation for me.

* Bleh:D got a new cell with a 3.2 mp cam integrated with it. Calls for a celebration....not because we are party-mongers.. ( Yep, I am) but chiefly coz she is the one who could click and click if she were to be left to her own devices. Because she googles the best pics from the redundant string of snaps spilled on the web-floor here.

*Deepawli is at a stone's throw and I am on a high. I just love the festival. Although I left bursting crackers long ago.. still memories of it are very green, even to this day. I pestered my father to shell out a good amount so that I could have my crackers well in advance. ( The list was always ready.... !!!). Once he gave in and the crackers were home... I laid the whole arsenal in the sun and safeguarded it from other zealous and jealous children in my locality. I find the encasing of crackers very colorful. It always made me sad to see the tatters strewn everywhere , the following morning. A lull was felt after the boisterous night of the diwali. For all the smoke and noise, Diwali remains my favorite. Light and sweets do the trick for me.

*I am zeroing on a cam. It has caught my fancy.It has a huge line of takers...and with the Diwali rush , I am afraid that I might not be able to grab it on time. I am down on currency and I have to wait for Dad to melt again. A child never stops troubling his dad.

---------------------------------------------

Vivek ....once stumbled across a piece...and I had kinda shrugged my shoulders on listening to it ,then.


"After a while u learn that even sunshine burns
If you get too much
And you plan your own garden
And decorate your own soul
Instead of waiting for someone
To bring you flowers"

but now, I am afraid that this might be true. From whatever li'l I know about life, bad things always strike back. and with vengeance. I know I am enjoying my bit in the sun. But am I in for a dry period soon? Pray for me that my back survives the fiery globe. the rays always leave me tanned:(

Sailing in between extremes

*sobs* the holidays are over. Abhiket would be heading back to Kolkata and all that partying and purposelessly hanging around would meet the full-stop. We fished every visitable corner in Mumbai and like always, the air down here didn't disappoint us. I think Mumbai survives , wtf it even scurries ahead, simply because it keeps changing. It is speedy, lustrous as well as lacklustre. Mumbai is gruesome for logs. Out here you have to make haste even if you have all the time in the world for things. People would run around to catch locals even when it is scheduled 1o mins. hence. They would alight midway, dangerously tossing themselves, while they know they would have one minute of halt soon. Mumbai respects turbulence. If you are slow, it is wise to head home.

*Mumbai is spanking clean. It is full of stench as well. 

*Mumbai is awfully rich. It is precariously poor as well.

*Mumbai is serene and beautiful. Esp.the shimmering sea and the wind. But at places it is very ugly. Your eyes burn at such sights. 

 

     At times you would think that a lifetime in Mumbai is not enough to explore. Facing the sea and feeling the wind across my face, I grimaced that my whole life would be blown away in one blink. The sea is so vast that everything seems very mundane before it. The mumbai skyline seems to be a spot on the cheek of eternity ( *plagiarism!!!). Also, speed is not always welcome for me . A pause, at times, is the need of the hour. But here...you got no rest.

*Mumbai is stylish. Sprawling malls and a cool crowd. But visit the flea markets. Style can come cheap. 

  Mumbai is a marriage of opposites. It is a supreme example of oxymoron. Heck!! It is awfully awesome.  

 

 

back from the hiatus!!

Sorry people....I kept to my blanket for this long. I was not sick or preoccupied. I ran out of fuel and the drive to keep writing here. Partly because I have few readers and I don't like my efforts going down the drain. It's wrong to expect my writings hog the limelight... but words are costly things. They need their oxygen to survive.

Internet is very humbling. In the end, I would have a great degree.. a cool gf ( I hope).. smart cash..still I would be a nobody. An entity, few would be aware of, a personality who would seldom be read and much more poorly heard. Recently I was going through the blog of one of the super-famous Bollywood actor and I was taken aback. Even if he sneezes, he gets a 1000 electronic hankies to wipe his nose. I don't think most of us are less special than he is. Most of us have excelled in the fields we charted for ourselves, we have time for our loved ones ( at least we try to make up for it in our own ways!!) ..we have had our place in the sun. The glory and shimmer have embraced us too..though those moments were way too short. I don't know whether anonymity or being commonplace is a curse..but being on top and in spotlight is a recipe for future disaster. Every sun sets at the end of the day. My skills might not blossom as they would have under the warmth of several onlookers. May be they would die in the lack of appreciation. But I won't be a fallen hero. I would be like a soldier who fought well, even won the war but the king walked away with the glory ( only to earn infamy in future!!!). I would have to pay the price of anonymity but when stakes are high, gambling is much more fun. The roulette of fate rolls on. The winners and the famous near bankruptcy and in one stroke all their cash is gone.

Anyways, I would return back and join the stream again.

Abhiket is in pune. And I am wafting in the breeze thinking about the sunny days lying ahead. There are places to go.. we would be earning precious moments. The trunk of memory would collect some really cool Kodak anecdotes. The only pickle in the whole menu is that Abhiket has left his handy-cam in his house itself. Surely there's no escape from Murphy's law!!

Exams are over. Time is lying junk and rotting. I have no idea how I am gonna utilize//fritter the days.

That is the thing with exams. It is such a grind to run into them and come out smiling. But once they are over, the mind is so used to the struggle that the after-days seem very drab and event-less!!!

Why is it so silent after the storm is over?

the past catching up-- 1

people, there are lot many things happening all around me. Commonwealth Youth games( some 26 days away...hell..I am so bad at calculations!!); repair of roads ( ain't very likely to happen..now with pebbles and rubble all around, it looks all the more worse..), the clearing up of shanties and roadside fruit vendors.. and the most troubling of all : The Delhi blasts ( nowadays ... there are always pluralities existing in their number...the miscreants aren't satisfied with one thud and boom...).

Also, the blog got rechristened, and revamped in a tinge of placid blue. I am in love with blue( Gives me blues... ahh no!!). . I am hooked to the blogger but I must admit that I am not very fond of templates here....

OK, now I must return to where I intended to start from. I have a bad habit of thinking. Doing nothing but lazing around with a thought playing in my mind. Always giving you a feel that I am at peace when deep within I am as turbulent as a torpedo. Couple that with a stack of pages and I would jot unnecessary stuff. The lines may come out good or terrible. But they really won't make any sense. Well, at least to you. I have been waging a war with myself. Its like a turncourt going on inside. One part says," Go and Talk. Do something. What you waitin' for? Things are not meant to last this way. If you are ending something, do it properly. Give it the end, it deserves." Other part insists on keeping numb and drifting with the tide of the times. Good things too, have not been far behind. Good people have turned the sun ( for a change !!) on my life. And pretty much like a sunflower, I am basking in it. Not knowing or perhaps trying to ignore the fact that the sun sets someday. Then the yellow flower droops and goes down. But while I am out there in the sunny times, I would soothe any on-looker. That is one promise I made to all my fellow travellers. Let not the light , but the will , guide us ahead. The sun can't be trusted. It would go down. And the night is always dark. We have our mutual joys to buoy us high in the sky of life. Keep floating, all of you.

So now? This time on, I am in an old and forgotten territory. I trespass here quite often. I overstay but I have never been stopped from doing that. So prolonging my stay has become my habit and also a mode of killing time. It is the luxury I have. Else the time is busy killing me. Minute by minute. Second by second.

I am cruising ahead notwithstanding the long queue of people vying to pull me down , dark situations vouching for my fall....Like Frost, even I have got promises to keep. Promises I made to myself long ago. Promises, I never intended to, was forced to make , to my loved ones. Ages ago. If not for these senile promises of mine , I have to just move for the sake of moving. Staying at one place is an open invitation for the evil forces to run all over you. You gotta make these creatures toil . If eventually they would catch me, why not make them sweat and pant for breath. They getting me easily would rob me of all the fun!!

Many of you won't be knowing that my caravan got rolling after I joined a boarding school in grade sixth. Before that I was gathering stocks of food , barrel of liquor and other ingredients that I thought would last long enough. Enough to see me through the whole distance. I thought I had them aplenty and once laden I won't need to stop and load myself again. Burdened with hope and some apprehension and fear, which perhaps every traveler setting on a journey feels, I stepped on the road. A road that looked straight then but made too many turns as I moved on. Ok, so the time at school went flying. Like all the good times, they flitted like the supersonic planes. Just saw them going, I never got to hear any sound. Journeys are deceptive. You start happily. You look around and see beaming fellow travellers. You see all of them mingling and leaning over their loved ones talking and chatting. You have a feeling that the long journey is just a matter of time. You got people to talk to, you got a cosy seat to rest. You got food and everything. Then gradually things start getting real. People start drifting apart. Journeys of some end before you. And some get tired and leave the caravan midway. The stock starts getting depleted and you become fed up with sleeping the whole day through. What do you do then? I don't have an answer. Perhaps bid your time and just pray that the train doesn't run out of fuel. So as the clocks ticked and I neared the first milestone, I knew it was time for many of my fellow students to get down and bid me farewell. I saw their disappearing torsos. Their alighted and waving hands got lost in the crowd. I had to move on. And I did.

Funny how, people forget faces of these small bundles of joy. The fellow travellers who dilute the boredom of the travel by their sheer presence. I admit, right now, I am putting my best foot forward and walking ....alone down the road. But I look back often. Not for remembering the grease and the gruesome details of my travels , but for cudgeling my brain so that I can remember those hideous faces. I still ain't able to recall. Amnesia, ah, it sucks.




P.S : Don't read anything. But please give a round of applause to Palvi who is as close it gets to spontaneity. An unfeigned and unadulterated source of laughter and joy. And then three other suns in my life, my sis Pallavi, my best friend ( Fiend?) Abhiket and Shruti ( The name spells her!! ). I am smiling you four. Thank you. Palvi spruced my blog all ends up:p. and actually ended up getting bored doing it...:P

This might be the first bead in a string of recounting-n-writing posts. Well, lemme see. As of now, it stands that way.

( Thanks should always be coated with a corny line. Ahh, just a passing, naughty thought!!)

I forgot Saurabh? I, be damned!!

stuck!!!

Buses will ruin me one day. Like every other morning , after having my breakfast, I got on the bus that heads straight to the academic building from my hostel. But looks like, I am destined to either miss buses or end up getting hooked in jams (even if I somehow manage to board one...) , all my life.

There was a big ditch in the middle of the road, thanks to the ongoing reconstruction... Result being the never ending queue of cars ( big and small), bikes ( flashy and rugged), cycles ( emphasing that size really matters..to the envy of my eyes, one cyclist even managed to race through the furrow between two standing trucks!! ) and the street flooding devils in yellow and black , the tripods .."Autorikshaws"!!

There isn't much one can do when your luck relishes playing foul games with you. It had rained the whole night before and this morning, I sat on a seat that was wet from inside but looked perfectly dry from the outside. Deceptive looks indeed!! Now I am wearing a wet jeans and am shivering under an AC.

One of my friend had taken to the back seat and he was praying that the jam lasted till eternity. The "why" here has a simple answer..A bus-full of girls was also stuck besides our own ...and my lucky friend was savoring the view to the optimum.

Two thoughts raced across our minds..

1) What if you are with a beautiful girl and it starts raining incessantly.. ( In Pune and Mumbai, that's not an impossibility!! ). Till now, this has never happened to either of us.

2) Being stuck in an elevator with a girl. Now as times have advanced, this dream has faded into oblivion. The apartments have generators to fire capsules up and down. There is an alarm which you can press if such misfortune ( hell, its a fortune !! ) befalls you.

While in a jam, people would droop to any level to pass the time.

.................................................................................................................................

And here again I see, the beauty of jams. No matter if you are a corporate honcho or a young turk or a prospective waste like me...A jam always mellows you.. It brings everyone down to the same level. You have to inhale the smoke if you are on two-wheelers or just listen to numbers in your car .. LUMAX red lights and horns hardly work then.. All you are left to do is to just stay seated and sulk. How humbling!!

I was ruminating and in due time , the driver was busy curbing the vehicle to places of less density of vehicles . He pulled it off and we reached the Institute some 50 minutes late. But we made it.

Where there is a "WHEEL" , there indeed, is a way.

A world sans girls!!!

Time to kick off , the post-season again. A new month, the same stale ideas. I would try to be different and so I am looking for a perfect start. A very good friend of mine has just started the blogging business ( by business, I don't necessarily mean business per se as in earning through blog..Yuckkkkk!! ). He is just new to this part of the world. I was going through his first post ( having excerpts from Paulo Coelho's book, Eleven minutes). I won't go into the meticulous description of what this book is all about ... it should suffice, perhaps, to let the un-initiated people know that the story celebrates the lamentation and quest of a prostitute for the ever eluding eleven minutes of exaltation ( Orgasm.. ) . Now here, Coelho tells how that homo-sapiens were not classified as male/female to start with and consequently courtship and the following strife had yet not started troubling the men. How the males and females got seperated and the all hell let loose from the day itself!!

Now my wise friend ( am not being sarcastic.. ok, "retrospective" is the better word!!), lying on his cosy bed , with all the time in the world to squander , started thinking what a world it would have been were there no girls on this planet. ( Let me add...were there no girls in the whole universe..else men would flock in swarms to that "gal-paradise"). He believes that there would have been no strifes, no heart-breaks and no Devdas like crying babies in the hostel rooms.. ( Although the very night , I pinged him and my friend was ruing that he had no girl in his life and it was so much boring. He is experiencing a vacancy , an emptiness ..He wants someone to share his thoughts with.. !!). I have nothing very different to offer.

But , believe me, It kinda horrifies me to imagine a world sans girls. It would be so much drab and boring. For most of us, Girls are the fuel which keep us living with a zeal and vigour.... a will to look good, a desire to dress like human-beings, an urge to bathe, apply cologne and what not. Besides Girls are very considerate in listening to poorly crafted and an even more dismally told jokes..They always laugh, you know. Boys are so cruel in dispelling bad humour. On the other hand, the fairer sex is kind enough. They laugh no matter how damn silly jokes are. There is no better sight than that of a beaming lass. The picturesque scenery, the landscapes, the malls etc. are a distant second. Girls are not a crutch for a boy. They resemble walls. You lean on them when you are going weak and you are tired of standing, you write on them when you are out of paper, you kick them when you are angry, you cuddle up to them when you want to hide your tears, you punch them a with tightly clenched fist when you want to be humbled, they are something you hold on to when the fall seems imminent. Girls are a storehouse of power yet they would mellow for you. They are a sword which can rip you apart but they keep to their scabbards. Girls are the songs, the dance, the happiness and the tear drops of life. You take them aside and half of the emotions on earth won't have come into being. For whom would you fight fervently, for whom would you like to be strong or at least act as one.. ? For whom would you seldom turn to literature and pry up for romantic lines? For whom would you scribble a page of lines ( you never means:d) ...from whom would you learn fortitude and the ability to stay grounded even when you have all the grace to take on the world??

Girls are a realisation that something exists outside the realm of cynical dome which encircles us. They were originally designed to stay cool,composed,innocent and serene. Any digression we see is purely an output of this unruly world. If she doesn't mould herself, we might even get bulldozers to get her down. Walls have to be tough, you know. I have a feeling ( and I might be wronged , but still I would say it) that she only turns nasty when she has seen enough murkiness from the world. She wants to turn a page and don a different role. She wants to show the world that everything breaks beyond the scope of reconstruction if you continue hammering it.

Come to think of it.. You are tired after a hard day of working-like-a-dog session and there are no girls to stare ( okay, ogling!! Men are allowed pitfalls. Sorry ladies.) at..there is no one who has prepared a mouth-watering delicacy for you when you return back home.. there is no one to whom you can talk to for hours without making any sense ( How much of that is left after a gruesome day?)...

If you walk a road in a world without girls.. you are attending a funeral. You can no longer walk blind-folded as no one would forward his feet for removing the thorns strewn on your way. When you think of replacing girls, think of a better substitute. I cannot fathom a better species. Definitely the new beings stepping in their shoes won't be half as beautiful ( and by beauty I don't mean only.. her eyes and locks..everything including her inner beauty).

My body temperature is already registering a couple of degrees above the normal and I am feeling feverish and frail. I don't want to aggravate my sickness by imagining such horrendous things...There aren't many tranquilizers that can cure me of such acute mental fever. How can a void left by a girl be ever filled? All tragedies have resulted cause we haven't still found a way to recover from that loss, the pain you get when your sweetie goes away.

The mercury is rising. Perhaps certain chemicals have gone berserk after the passage of such a ridiculous thought. Get well soon, me. For that Girls , you would have to stay put, right here on this planet. And pray for me, who knows?