OUTSIDE OUR WINDOW-- ( ps-sorrry its our fault again......!)

Outside our window there is this guy,
who drops by (frequently)once in a while.
But is it just him or one among a gang of boys?
We are yet not sure,and oh! I wish we could tell u why.
But oops! we are sorry..its our fault you see..
To look outside our window is an unpardonable sin
And to leave the windows open for some fresh air to breath,
Is the ultimate crime,Be it 8 in the morning, weekend nights or Sunday eve.
Even if the drunkheads howl names at night,
Through the two layered curtain, we promise to pretend we are fine.
To the guy who stripes ,behind the wall,
We are sorry ,that even early sleeping girls turn you on.
To the one who stares full day long,
And the lights that penetrate through the window walls,
We assure you we’ll keep ‘mum’ and live along.
Cause to complain? How dare we,
Aren’t we the creatures who are responsible for all their deeds.

WINDS OF CHANGE

Then,

                Then I took photos as memories to be preserved,

                Then I let my thoughts  to words for feelings to be expressed.

                Then I smiled and laughed and felt for me,

                Then I loved, lived and danced for my soul to feel.

                Then I made friends I wanted to keep,

                Then I hugged my mother and told her how special she was to me.

Now,

                Now I pose for to my networking friends to show,

                Now my feeling are not mine alone to claim anymore.

                Now I pen down carefully what the world wants to read,

                With each new status, that changes faster than the Autumn’s  wind.

                Now my relations become a drama for others to see,

    Committed , complicated or available to be.

                And very move, breath ,laughter and tear,

                Well performed like a circus trail.

                Now I praise my father online, while he toils in the sun,

                And type hearts roses and flowers, when calls exchanged where none.

                Now I live for them, laugh for them,

                My every move I serve beautifully to flatter and attract them.

                Now my personal life becomes their public property to be puppeted by me,

                If my that “then” became this “now”, I fear what my “now” might turn out to be.

Who am I ?

I am the reflection that you see..

IN FOUR WORDS....

She played with her hair occasionally twisting and turning the pen in her smooth locks. The paper in front of her was still blank , as it had been for the past 2 hour or so.she bit her lips and twinched her eyebrows while staring at the paper.

What was she supposed to write? How was she supposed to start? It had been long, too long not to be weird. She didn’t wanna seem too eager , needy or desperate though the truth was she was dying inside..she didn’t wanna seem too happy, ignorant or carefree either  lest she might seem like she doesn’t mind or care when the truth was she did, damn!! she did care. She wanted to seem calm and composed and normal, but how? That was the question that troubled her…Her words gave her away just like her eyes…they used to say…

The clocked ticked away and her eyes wandered outside the four walls into the tree with a mother bird searching the perfect branch for the perfect nest..nope, there were two birds, taking turns…she smiled..

The wind blew inside making the curtains dance and the blank blue paper flutter under her hands.

She took the pen and wrote,

“Dear mom,

Love,

Ev.”

And it explained it all………….

A BOTTLE OF SUNSHINE!!!........

He was never the kind of person who was afraid of height, maybe that’s why this place saw lot of him. He leaned and peeped down, way down. His sudden movement send a few unfortunate loose sand grains on their way to the bottom and he watched them as they disappeared into nothing…a nowhere that was somewhere.

The wind blew harder like a wind untamed animal, gushing its way through his hair. He loved the feel of it. “Love”. That word brought emotions in him that were a killer of the same. Yes, he loved the feel of the wind on his slightly-wet-by-sweat hair. But there were things he didn’t love too(or so he wanted to believe).

Her smile. Her laughter.Everytime she shared with him .The way things were taken for granted. And how he suddenly became a distant stranger. How she praised her new friend. How the silence grew unnecessarily and created a hole in the void. And that day he realized that he was nothing more than nothing to her and the fact that she moved on unnoticing all this.

The wind might have read its thoughts for it turned softer, milder. He  felt an invisible hand supporting his momentarily decision with a push from the back. He leaned forward sending more gravel slipping , slinding and falling down. He closed my eyes and took a deep breath..

“oye!Ajay!! Wat the heck are u doing idiot? Whats taking u soo long?”, Akhil screamed honking the horn hard. He turned around and saw  his personal bunch of weirdoes  waiting on the second hand jeep that we had hired.

“how long will u piss, duffer? What do u have in u, a dam? Come on fast! we have to reach Manali by night”, he screamed again, their gang leader and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“true I have millions of things I hate right now, but I have zillions of things I love too..my friends, family, work , my life and these bunch of idiot who make my day…I am not ready to give up on them yet.no I am not. And maybe I never will.hopefully.”

He laughed as his mind spoke. the wind seemed to have guessed this too, for he felt a pat on his back. He laughed once again and challenging the wind for a race to jeep , he ran,leaving his secrets among the echos of the cliff and the wind..

”aa raha hoon kamino!!!!!!”…

WASSUP BUDDIES(?).....................

I opened the door of my room, threw my bag on the chair I could see and  fell flat on my bed…

“pheW!!it really was one hell of a day..” and all I wanted was to fall into my world of dreams while the goddess of sleep stroked me to my slumber..I took the phone to put an alarm and that’s when the icon next to it caught my attention..WHATSAPP..

 “onnu check cheydalo?”..i switched it on and the *peep peep *sound greeted me.. “4 messages from two conversation..” .and I smiled at the thought of having  msgs waiting my reply..and i checked it out… slowly my smile turns to a frown…

I switched off my  phone, opened the laptop n here I am, writing , typing, fast..very fast before my thoughts would escape into void again..

<rewind>

Time:10 minutes ago

Venue: the royal rajpath..back from class..

I was on my way back to my room and all I wanted was to sleep like a log(or a pig, as akhila would say it…) and thanks to our awesome timetable, I always seem to have everything or nothing..either all thge classes and lab or no class at all..and  you can very well imagine which one of those days it was today..

And so I was on  my way back when I saw a group of ppl walking back .. “main cops…kattangal….geethu’s..chechi’s…or  that cigarette shop that they all claimed to buy Mentos or Halls from…” I played all the options of their origin at the moment in my head…and as we came closer I found a familiar face in them and so got mentally prepared to acknowledge him just in case he noticed…. We walked closer…his eyes lifted , saw me from a distance, his hands slid into his pocket to take out the phone and we crossed with no signs of recognition at all..

“ohhhkkkkkkkkkkk……..”, I thought to myself and continued my dream way forward, forgetting all about the incident that would have turned out really embarrassing had I said  a “hey! Buddy…”

And now here I am, receiving a msg from the same familiar faced friend on whattsapp..

“ hey!!wassup??”

“long time…no news…J”

And im filled with disgust .

 he was just one among the many like him…………..

and now typing this I feel we are the lucky and blessed generation ..our parents and grand parents only had friends...WE.?we have categories of them..whatsapp friends..fb friends…friends we talk to…friends we never talk to…friends we cry with..friends we laugh with..friends to hang out, friends to listen out..friends with good pics…friends who increase with phone numbers..friends of friends..friends of friends’ friends… the list is never ending like collection of stamps…

and many at times ive wondered why I even have ppl who I could neither  identify in real  life nor recognize from their face or voice, on my friends list..and why those who I do have contact with(thanx to fb n whatsapp) and talk to so nicely and perfectly n sensibly seem so lost and confused and scared and escaping  into their phones trying desperstely to search for something magical in there that would save them, whenever u meet them  face to face…i wonder why people cant simply ask and talk  rather than wait to get back to their room and  log on to either fb or whatsapp..

sorry..but I cant help but laugh..:D.

oh! How I miss those school days, when I so badly wanted to tell my friends about the latest happenings while it lingered on till the next day we meet..how I miss sitting in groups and pulling each others leg and not group chatting..how I miss actually laughing out loud and not “LOL”ing..how I miss actually playing a prank than just “:P”ing...how I miss receiving a letter or a card on the birthday and not some random stranger wishing me on my “WALL” just cause they got a reminder..how I miss having a fight and then making up for it by slipping a “S-O-R-R-Y” note  into her bag than just turning of chats and then liking and sharing things…oh! How I miss actually letting a person know how much they mean to me in action and words and not just in “SHARE IF U LOVE YOUR MOTHER/SISTER/BROTHER” and “COMMENT”…

but me? Nope , I am not sad or disappointed..infact I feel blessed because our parents had just one kind of friends in their life-TRUE FRIENDS, whom they talked and still talk to…and we?? We have categories  of them…ain’t we the luckiest bunch of generation?

..
#connectedlydissconected….

...

ELEMENTS…

There are a million roles one play’s in one’s life and each role is a story in itself.

Here is a collection of different roles inspired from different stories and etched together as one, with the main focus on the different roles played by a man.…

Each ‘Element’ begins where the other ends……….

Anxiety throbbed in his heart and confusion filled his head with each passing second. The choices between right and wrong are never easily made or decided upon, and this was a moment like that. She was inside, dying in pain, he could hear her voice raising and falling at times. The doctor had arrived half an hour ago with a suitcase and stethoscope . hanging around his neck, a proof of the doctorate degree.  This was their fourth child together and his head blurred with the thoughts of regret and disgust at the thoughts of bringing another soul into their life of empty stomachs, leaking roofs and silent cries. How could he afford another soul? Wasn’t he just as sinful as a murderer? Putting to stake every soul who was alive now (by god’s grace).

He sat down there, on the rugged floor burying his head between his legs and hands. Incidents from last night flashed through his blurred mind. His landlord’s  agreement of 10,000 Indian rupees for his child and his own greedy agreement to the same. Never had he dreamt such a large amount of sum together, let alone sees it. Being nothing but a chai wallah, he couldn’t even hope for it.A burden lessened and money for his family of 8 to survive on for even longer than he had imagined. But her?? His wife? No, she would never know, the deal with the doctor had been fixed.” It’s a pathetic state when you neither have the guts to live nor the courage to end your life”, he thought feeling disgusted at himself with no choice for the hundredth time that day. He was stuck in between, and while he was there, he was desperate to make both the ends meet.

 Her cries increased while its intervals decreased. Then a scream and a cry. “It’s a girl”, the old lady announced. He looked at the miracle, covered in the only cloth that was found, crying with its eyes closed and fists clenched tight. And suddenly the choice was made. She was his.

His hands extended to reach out for his baby girl.

 A touch. A touch was all that he needed………………

A touch. A touch was all that he needed………

 He was here, sitting beside me. His hands on mine. I was not sure if he knew I could see, hear and understand things. Maybe he didn’t, maybe that’s why he was letting off the 24 years of burden from his heart. I had never been the good-kind-of son, let alone being an ideal one.I always wanted things my way.I wanted to be the free eagle. Rising, rushing, and living. But somehow I always felt my father was the grieved about the fact that his chance was over, and hence was trying to extend his grips to trap me in, I battled, quarreled,  rebelled and fought my way out every time. Life was a race and I was in a hurry to finish off…but in a flash, it finished off me. And now laying here, a prisoner in my own body I wonder what if………. What if I had skipped that last peg of gin? What if had not challenged some random guy? What if I had not decided to get into the driving seat? What if I hadn’t taken that path? What if that lorry driver was delayed by a few seconds? What if……….? But my ‘what if’s floated, in amongst themselves. The accident had left me only with my breath to survive on. My life was a question of death and life.I was just as alive as a breathing body and just as dead as corpse.

And right now I was ready to trade my last hold on life just to be able to apologies to him. My heart aches as I see him here, the strongest and toughest man I had ever known, or at least thought suit had been hours, but he hadn’t said a word, and I knew how difficult it was for him too. I was his hope, his ray of sunshine; I was his yesterday, today and tomorrow. And the with the tick of each second, my throat filled with the apologies that would never ever come out.

“I am sorry, “.  He cried, holding my hands tight and bending over them, the coldness of his wet face on my hand.

My eyes closed. A tear trickled its way out slowly sliding down from my cheek, the silent apology of the silenced…..A single drop of tear..............

A drop of tear,

A hot tear slipped from her eyes and sliding down her cheek .she had lost track of time, she didn’t know how long had she been hiding in here, under the bed. But she knew one thing for sure; he was coming for her…..

The dark was slowly creeping in. she pulled her leg close, hid her face in them hand clutched her fingers tight to stop herself from shivering of fright. The sight had paralyzed her for a second: her mother choking under her father’s strength.  And then she ran, with all her life to escape her end but her dancing shadows had betrayed her...He was coming for her.

Many so often the grown up are unaware of those innocent pair of eyes watching their grave murderous acts, and when they do realize, the mute witness had to be given a free trip with the earlier deceased...Her life taker was her life giver, her father…

The darkness had spread its presence everywhere and through the light, escaping from the creek of the door, she could see a shadow walking through and forth searching, shouting and kicking anything on his path.

Her breath grew heavy and slowly, her own voice echoing in her head. She clenched her own face with the hands to stop her breath from betraying her. Suddenly the shadow stopped. A face…… 

A final scream….

A scream…a scream of joy….” Oh! My gosh!! She looks angelic” he heard her friend scream with excitement...

Walking down the stairs, elegantly and beautiful was her sister and suddenly he was hit with the realization. His little sister was getting married….. week after week running behind the planning of the ceremony, never once had that thought crossed his mind with so much intensity..And the sudden realization made him skip a beat in his heart.

He looked at her with adoration and respect. From his chubby, plumply, fashion-conscious, pimple feared, idiotic and irritating sister to a well groomed and stunningly elegant bride, there she stood, his first woman in his life. And as he stood there with a glass of beer in his hand, he remembered all those stupid cat and dog fights, how much he hate her friends coming over and giggling everywhere, how she walked around with her latest face mask on, how she would try out each new dress and jump into his room shouting, “how do I look?” ,how he was always forced to let go because he was the eldest and how he was forced to drop her and pick her up to and from everyplace. Oh! How he hated it then and how he longed and wished he could do it all once again…she was the first one to catch his secret love-story and to keep it so, to help him shop and get the best perfume to awe her sister-in-law, she was the one who taught him how to waltz and with whom he shared his first royal ball dance. She was the only one who sat next to him and understood him after the fight with his father. The chocolate fight, the toy-smashing revenges, and the pranks they played on each other, and the world war three for that last piece of mom’s pakodas... She was the little kid and his big girl at the same time. And now, here she stood, ready to fly on her own and for the first time in his life he felt lost and a little scared for her and more, for himself.  She was going to be someone else’s, his precious little gem…

She walked slowly down the stairs with her same set of giggling friends swarming around her. Maybe she noticed him lost and helpless, because she slowly walked toward him with a naughty question in her eyes, “so? How do I look?” she asked with a wink and he couldn’t help but laugh. She jumped and hugged him tight; a hug that had a million of thank you’s, love you, and miss you’s in it. A hug that assured him that he was the first man in her life and always will be.A hug that whispered “you will not lose me, ever”. A smile spread on his face. He was ready to let her go, he was ready…to let her fly………

\

"I DO........"

The wind slowly transformed into a breeze and gently blew on her face as she stood near the window. The white veil fell elegantly and effortlessly over her head and behind, like a stream of undisturbed and untouched water. Her daughter had selected it to match her flawless white gown. A smile spread on her face as she remembered.

 “let’s get married in Paris”, that girl of 9 suggested.

“Nope,in Las Vegas”, he replied with a grunt.

“How about near a beach?..”

The discussion went on and on. Stupid and senseless. The confusion was as simple as the answer.

“let’s get married, every five years…..chumma.”, he came up with the brilliant idea ”I know its stupid and senseless and complete waste of money but come on!! at least we’ll have something absolutely ridiculous to look forward to then, who knows how booooooring we might grow up to be then …” he went on with a glow in his eyes and over doing the word “boooring.”  Her face glowed as she imagined it and she had nothing better to suggest. It was a deal.

She chuckled as she rememberes it now. How stupid and innocent were they. A promise, made by the innocent kids. She was just a kid then and he was her best friend, then and now. They were no lovers, neither we they anything less. He had held her hand through all ups and downs. And he still held it strong. But she had totally forgotten about this conversation until one day, a month before their 5^th wedding anniversary,

 He said...” so u ready?”

“For what?”

“To marry me , idiot??”

“Are u crazy???I am your wife bhudhu…..”

“yep. But we had a deal………..”, he said winking at her. And so it went on…….

 “ Mom!!!!!! We are ready whenever you are, Miss Bride…” ,Irene announced with a wink  as she stood there holding the door open. Her girl had indeed grown up to be just like her father.

She looked into the mirror to get a last glimpse of herself. She had no long earring or bangles. Just a single chain that fell elegantly over her pale neck and deep down. She looked pale, very pale to be true and her last few strands of hair…..”The treatment ……” , she remembered with a smile on her face and a pain piercing her heart. But she had not bothered to cover it up with make-ups.

Her hands trembled as she caught hold of her daughter’s, in an attempt to bid goodbye to her wheel chair for a few hours. It was her decision and hers alone to walk down the aisle and she was determined to complete it. The morphine was starting to loose its effect but with every step that send a pain like a sword through her body she smiled while whispering to herself, “You cannot fall, you cannot fail…” She had an “I DO………” that she had promised him today.  For, this would be the most memorable gift she could gift him in their married life of 25…..as it would be her last………..

TWO AND A HALF PILLS OF LOVE (DAILY, BEFORE BREAKFAST!!)

Before your wild imagination takes you to steamy love-making sessions or couples rolling over each other, allow me to disappoint you as I am to talk of none of that but an easier and just as easily forgotten form of it. To just love . Just a moment of happiness, a second of bliss in a smile, in anyone, someone, your mother, neighbour’s  friend, friend’s friend, your  ayya, your dog, cat , fish or even goose.(but please spare me from your eternal love for your latest iPod or playstation). Just anybody as long as it’s a living breathing soul. For the past two and a half weeks I was in love like that. Not a “mein tere liye mera khoon de doon ga” or the love that had the power to kill. I fell in love that made me live, happily .i fell in love with a stranger. A complete random stranger. But more than that I fell in love with what he was to me.

Its strange how a friend’s smile is never ever enough for us but a stranger’s smile lifts up our whole day. Thinking objectively I wonder what the difference was.” None “, was the only answer that would have stopped my mind from thinking and wandering more, so I gave in to myself.

My internship for the last two and a half week found me bumping into and noticing a recurring face each morning. And before I knew, it turned into a game itself, like tom and jerry . An unsaid challenge to see how long this chain went on ,unbroken. And before I knew it, I was in love with this whole game I was playing with myself. Not “love” love, but the fact that this person actually made me love myself again. For the fact that I actually had something totally stupid, idiotic and completely meaningless to wait for. For the fact that I had a part of each day that I was looking forward to.

For all those who have already guessed it as a guy, I hate to agree, it is.. but for all those who are guessing a hot-shot guy with baggy pants at the verge of completely giving into gravity, shoes that had more colours than on a rainbow, perfume that makes me puck, an  earphone matching his shoes and a look on his face that said(in joey’s style) ,”whatcha doing”, I’ll take the pleasure to disagree, its not..

He would have been just another guy next door, probably a lonely soul, the last one to be always  picked  in school. But his silence spoke louder than the girls giggling two seats in front of him and the working womens’ gossiping and bickering about their 5 min best friend who just got down at the last stop.. . There were words in him that I could read.

On the second day of my journey, as I ran inside the bus, almost hitting everybody on the way in an frantic attempt not to get completely drenched in the rain and most importantly by my co-travellers’ dripping umbrella’s, I noticed a face among the many that I had seen the other day. A pair of lost eyes, looking outside the window..As his head turned,I looked forward not to let myself be caught in the act, but then I realized he was looking at nothing in particular at all, his eyes surfed the crowd and was looking through it, into a distant void. Like people never matter or existed.Our eyes met just as fast as we broke it. A sudden fear and shyness of being caught in the act,like the hide and seek game played by the naughty eyes when  the prayed-to-be-unknown becomes known.

The days kept repeating itself,the game went on. Him sitting in the same seat with the same blank face, me leaning on all supports possible with my completely entangled  ear phones plugged in and lost in the world of Avril , Sunidhi Cauhan and Lady Antebellum. It didn’t matter where we were from or what we did or how cute and non disgusting our smiles were . No phone numbers were exchanged, no facebook request were sent. It didnt matter. It never did. And for the first time after a long time,something made sense. Feelings.

Everyday that I ran like a crazy girl into the bus, my eyes would automatically scan the heads for that familiar face among the crowd that had become my silent unaware friend in such a short while. When  found, I would hear a villain’s laugh inside me,”buhaha….i won.”<my villain hero at the moment raising his fist against destiny> I was at war with fate and destiny. And I had won once again. The game went on.

Two and a half weeks later , my last trip to my same old destination and my last gamble. The same old ‘dilwale dulhaniya-legayeng’ race for the bus, only this time there was no hero to hold my hand n pull me into the bus. But still I managed to  squeeze my way in. As my eyes searched for my unaware buddy, my mind had a couple of scary thought in-stock for me-” what if he didn’t come today? What if he missed the bus? will I lose this game? Will my last day betray me?” . And I found it- The same old seat but with a new face for me. I had lost. The ringing of a distant laugh was now raising its head and growing louder and louder.My eyes twitched in irritation , disappointment and anger like a child denied of a promised candy.i plugged on my Avril Laving even louder than usual, to dominate over my enemy’s mocking laugh.

My stop had come. I rushed out with others as fast as I could. A wet umbrella on my arm, a kick on my thigh , a stamp on my foot and an unknown hand pulling me down….arghhhhhh….but I was giving everyone their return gifts too. I was in no mood to be polite or gentle to the passenger of the chariot that had betrayed me. For some insensible stupid meaningless reason , I believed that they too had a role in it.

I looked back ,once I was out into breathable life to bid goodbye to my light green tinted bus,my casino where I had played my game well enough and almost won .Suddenly I caught sight of  the same pair of eyes, the unknown friend, those eyes…..Two seats behind his regular one. I felt a sudden stream of happiness gushing out of me and an urge to burst out into a thunder laugh. I had won.”wohoooo”… The ringing voice that had appeared again just as I brought down my iPod’s volume, was now laughed upon by my partner in crime, my inner voice, “buhahaha….”

The song suddenly changed to ,”never ever give up on yourself….as long as we are together..” and I laughed out loud before I could think and stop myself. I had won. “we had won”, my fate corrected me, as my inner voice and fate walked with me, hand-in-hand.

Ps: to you, my stranger friend, with no name , “hi”s or “bye”s…thank you…..

Note to you: do something stupid(secretly), fall in love with a familiar face, a recurring sight and don’t forget to gift yourself two and a half pills of love, daily before breakfast.

With love…..

Your bugger….

CHAPTER 1: < A LOUD SELF TALK>...;)

“Because,

I want to stop gasping and start breathing.

I want to stop running and start walking.

I want to stop humming and start singing.

I want to stop preparing and start breathing-Life.”

                                                            -Me

Having studied in 8 different education institutes, I’ve been through it all, experienced it all. From the worst to the best and back, like a pendulum swinging back and forth. Each new place was a new chapter to my life book. A new layer to unfold. A new ‘ME’ was born. A singer , a dancer, an orator, a sportsman, a painter, debator,follower,skater, swimmer, sprinter,leader, a looser. From being a everybody to nobody. I’ve been it all, sometimes a MISS POPULAR, sometimes a MISS INVISIBLE. From being a school-leader to a one-man-army, each new place gave me a choice. And I choose what became of me...because I wanted a taste of it all, like a crazy child left free in a room full of ice creams ,colours n dreams to be fulfilled(though I was never a great  fan of ice-creams .)..

                                        And now ,years later as I sit here ,simply wondering(chumma :D ) what I really actually truly wanted from life, I found myself laughing . I didn’t want any of those. I didn’t want to be a singer, dancer, leader or any of those great things at all...I wanted the “Little things” in life...

There is a greater truth we realise with time- it is not the great nothings, but the little some things that matter.....

I want those little “some things” in life:-

I wanted a walk on the beach barefoot once in a while to feel the naughty sea tickling my feet and the shy hot wet sand escape between my toes to hide under the water again.

I wanted to spend an hour everyday night sky watching and trying to make stupid meaningless patterns out of those hide-and-seek playing stars.

I wanted to sing along loudly and crazily (even outside my bathroom<laughs>) with a song that played on the radio.

I wanted to still be able to play a clever prank and never get caught.

I wanted to dance till my feet could fly and get lost and in the rhythm and not be scared of going wrong.

I wanted to go for a walk in the rain and feel the tickle of the first drops slid down...or maybe a scooter/bike ride perhaps... ;)

I wanted to go for a long drive through a new road, get lost and re-discover.

I wanted to just get into some random bus and go for an unplanned unannounced trip (with my mobile switched off...)

I wanted to share a cup of hot brewing lime tea with someone special on an icy-cold day (while my spec’s glass covers itself with the foggy combination of hot and cold).

I  wanted to write , read and laugh till I could die(and I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how I’m going to die. Laughing).

I wanted to feel the wind on my face and fly (impossible!!!).

I wanted to pose for a series of crazy group photos without worrying about how my hair falls or if I’m putting on the best non-constipating smile...

I wanted not to be too busy to see a pair of butterflies fluttering and dancing.

I wanted to still notice the zillion shades of green on my every journey.

I wanted to still notice my lucky bird, and just believe deep inside that my day would be awesome somehow.

I wanted time to have a pillow fight once in a while (very often) with my children and     husband (in future, of course).

I wanted to feel the sand on my fingers (and not just the keyboard keys or phone) and build a sand castle and then break it myself.

      I wanted to feel the smell of the freshly cut grass and the smell of summers first rain.

      I wanted to fall on a sheet of light green grass sprinkled with the morning dew.

I wanted a peaceful dream-filled sleep every night.

I want to enjoy the taste of a brain-freezing ice cream under a hot burning sky.

I want to drink the air from a LAYS packet (which I always find tastier than the contents inside).

I want to watch the sunset n the colours mix and fading in that never ending horizon.

And I wanted a life that gave me time to enjoy all the above little some things.

All these little things were always there, but maybe I was too busy to notice. And every time I did notice, I was too busy preparing myself to enjoy it .Later (hopefully). And then I looked at myself- catching a namesake meal (for me) and having a namesake bath (for other), running around everywhere. I had actually forgotten how to walk. I had absolutely no clue what the color of my room was or the things I saw everyday on my way. I had fixed my focus on that god-knows-what, that I had turned a blind-eye to the things on the way. And hitting the bed at 2 or 3 am (so that I’ll still be alive), and then again getting up and the same old story again....damn!! This is not what I wanted. So not what I planned for. “It’s not the destination that matters, it’s the journey”.

All throughout my school life, I kept postponing, calculating and measuring for the never-coming-tomorrow. And now I was exactly where I began-GROUND ZERO. And I realized that if I kept preparing myself to enjoy it, I’ll be thinking the same tomorrow, day after tomorrow and even the day after that. Maybe I am not ready to miss all of it again. Maybe I was not ready to fill my emptiness with void spaces anymore. Maybe I was not afraid anymore. Maybe I was growing up. Maybe I was growing my own wings.

When we stop living for the sake of it and actual start “breathing life”, are we really alive.”Life is full of life”, I’ve read somewhere, so I set out to live that life in my life. So-“CHAPTER 1: <A LOUD SELF TALK>” ;)

                                                        THE BEGINNING.

           CHAPTER 2: ALIS VOLAT PROPRIIS... (Aka.SHE FLIES WITH HER OWN WINGS).. ;)

IN TWO SHADES....

In shades of black and grey. Today, I saw the truth staring back at my face.

In shades of black and grey.  The blood changed from maroon to crimson red.

In shades of black and grey. Today, I sensed the fear I had always lied.

 In shades of black and grey.  I saw a mother strangle to death, her child.

In shades of black and grey. Today, I met a demon we all cheered.

In shades of black and grey. Those wrinkles on his face seemed far from clear.

In shades of black and grey.  Those tears they sparkled under the sky.

 In shades of black and grey. I wonder, “Why was that child shot while he smiled?”

In shades of black and grey. Today, I wished I hadn’t witnessed that clotted slaughter.

In shades of black and grey.  Sensed I, an apology of a father to her daughter.

Today, in shades of black and grey...........

In shades of black and grey. Saw I, a mother curse her gift of life.

In shades of black and grey. A friend forced his sister out of life.

In shades of black and grey. I sensed her pretty little hand trembling in her lover’s.

In shades of black and grey. I saw a soul tear himself apart to choose between his brothers.

In shades of black and grey.  The elder’s echoes floated in the drain.

In shades of black and grey. On the floor were scattered their life’s remains.

In shades of black and grey.  Died the cries of millions in a silent pray.

In shades of black and grey.  I saw the sky turn from blue to grey

In shades of black and grey................

                     Dedicated : to all those who cursed them self for their life's breath during Hitler's reign.....

I'M A WOMAN, SO I DIE.......

dedicated: to that innocent  five year old, who hardly knew the word "FCUK"!!

I’m a girl child, so I cry-

A prayer, not to kill me inside.

I’m a daughter, so I weep,

At all the freedom restricted to me.

I’m a girl, so I shudder,

At every extended hand of a lover.

I’m a woman so I fear,

Every shadow, love and care.

I’m a woman so I see,

With eyes of doubt, fear in me.

I’m a woman , so I talk,

In voice so low, not to grab their sight.

I’m a woman, so I hide,

Behind the veils, the curtains black.

I’m a woman, so I’m scared,

For me and my children ahead.

I’m a woman, so I know,

That to you age matters not.

I’m a woman, my hands tremble,

On that lonely road, at every rustle.

I’m a woman, I’m forced to see,

With looks of suspicion, even my life long friend he’ll be.

I’m a woman, so I withdraw,

Into the crowd, my identity not to be known.

I’m a woman , so I feel,

How that hug turns into places not to be.

I’m a woman ,so I scream,

In cries of silence, as u rip me.

I’m a woman, now I fear,

My own shadow, to me an eyesore.

I’m a woman, so it pains,

All the scars, u left open to drain.

I’m a woman, so i die,

In my own self, gasping inside.

I’m a woman, so i scream,

Seeing what’s left of me.....

But,

I’m a woman, I’m the goddess,

I’m the Lakshmi my grandma chants in her prayers.

I’m the light and joy of my house.

I’m the stupid one who runs around.

I’m the one who loves the mangoes raw.

The one who sings aloud with every song.

I’m the one who tries to fly,

Like those fishes, I’m the one who wanna dive.

I’m the one who chases the kites and falls,

The one to giggle and laugh all the time.

I’m the one who steals the fried chicken piece,

From the kitchen, when I’m sure no one would see.

I’m the one my father calls, “my First Lady”.

I’m the Queen in my mother’s dreams.

I’m a woman I’m a daughter,

A sister, lover , wife I’m a mother.

I’m a woman,I’m the one,

Who breathed life into you, while I died..

But I’m a woman....and so, I fear...................

A BEAUTIFUL SOUL

Sometimes when you are simply lying there, doing absolutely nothing at all..a smile might spread on your face, unexpectedly..a smile that could mean more than any words could ever express. Gratitude  blessed, precious. A smile lost in words. And then you wonder if you ever deserved this,something so good, so pure, so perfectly flawed. Innocence , naughtiness, cunningness and purity-A perfect culmination of these is what makes a BEAUTIFUL SOUL. You are a beautiful soul.PURE.RAW.TRUTHFUL.but then again i wonder, if something could be too good to be true.

The worst part about perfection is the fear of it ever not been so.......

But then i close my  eyes and believe, that if i was lucky enough to be writing this now, i would be lucky enough to hold on it forever...

Happiness. Bliss. Calm. Serenity. Relaxed. Joy. Gratitude  Pure...random words float in my head now. A feeling that can never be expressed or shared, but can only be felt. But when you finally find it, unexpected, you are amazed like a kid seeing an endless treasure. Dazed at the goodness that was thought to be extinct. And as i write this , my throat chokes of happiness.

I am happy, truly  Blessed, for a reason too valuable to be shared and too precious to be lost. If words could ever express the beauty and purity shared, i could keep writing forever. But words fail, emotions fail, actions fail, expressions fail and all i have is a smile.........

And i am letting it speak for me now.......

Dedicated : to the most beautiful soul......

THE OTHER HALF OF ME..

someone told me to write happy things here, once in a while..<laughs> 

for you are the most happiest thing that has ever happened to me, here it goes..FOR YOU..

for complementing my craziness,

for reflecting my weirdness,

for suppourting my every stupid thought and talks

for telling me, "you are perfect the way u are."

for the idiocrazness we've been through

and the silly stupid "higher talks" that we do

for the over action drama scenes

and promising we'll fulfill together our bucket-list

for making that journey so much less lonely

and that lime tea way more sweeter than supposed to be

for making me laugh like i’ve never laughed before

and for playing with me even when i played along

for walking with me in every step of my life

and promising me to be here forever and never apart

for you should know you are greatest gift ever

for you the most precious thing ever

for just being who u are.

for just being the "other half of me.."

A PRAYER

Dedicated to all those who make me realise everyday what i am not to be like...you...

If i promise not to interfere

In works that you may begin,

If i promise not to speak ill,

Of your and your dear devils.

If i promise i wont care

Enough, for you to hurt me.

If i promise not to give you the power,

To take away my life’s worth.

Can you promise me?

To just let me be?

If i promise never to speak of you,

In you presence or fortunate absence.

If i promise never to cross your path,

That face we both least desire.

If i promise never to take you name,

And ruin it, like you did today.

If i promise i swear you have your right,

Can you promise to me give back mine?

If i accept that you are way better,

In thousand million ways, though we may differ.

If i worship you with flowers and praise,

And chant your name to my knight’s maid.

If I sing your glory and suggest your name,

To the kings above, that power you may claim.

If i dance to your tune, the steps you may choose,

For once in my life, I don’t care if I loose.

Oh! Will you please let me be?

With the freedom I want to feel.

THE CRAFTSMAN.

Many a piece of perfection cometh his way...

A whisper, they’ve heard them say..

Of a magician’s healing touch, his hand.

Fixing all their bleeding heart.

He would fill their soul, their pain to end..

But they’d leave him soon, their unpaid friend...

Enters a new face- ill-sketched,

Opens a new entrance that he own etched,

Unaware of the previous secret guest,

Believing he was the master’s personal best..

The master sets to work, to mould him too to perfection..

The routine, the same. To redefine in him his life’s direction.

 And the sun it sets,exhausted of his job..

To rise again, a promise to a new soul.

Those dying rays falls on his ties of affection...

“one day....” he whispers reflecting on his unmended reflection..

LESS IS MORE....

Dreams.We were all born with them...of capturing our own world.etching out a difference...but somewhere along the path we lose ourselves. What you were and what you have ceases to be what it was.your identity seems less of yours... And you stand here, in this crossroad with a choice you have in your in hand. RIGHT or EASY? And you are in a new journey- of sketching and carving out a real you..rejuvenate..

When the realisation strikes that reality is miles away from preaches and speeches... you change. And you fear the change.your hands shiver and your heart starts pounding and the fear of doubt grips you from within.you fall , scared of the truth that lies masked by your dream. For a second you doubt yourself,like I am , now, while my fingers move swiftly searching for the perfect letters for  the perfect words....

Two roads lead forward in this crowd that holds me here..clearly etched but vaguely noticed.and its a choice you have to make to save yourself from their’s..and so in the flowing crowd you stand, watching the nothingness turn into everything , and you smile. Cause you know....

 Then one day, someday.. when you would be sitting on an arm chair with a cup of hot steamy tea, watching the sun set,the same old enemy would visits again...DOUBT. “was it the right choice?” “what if.....” and a list of “if...”s  pop into your mind. But then you look back and see your creation...and you trust it cause you belived in it....and in that second ..you know that it couldn’t have been better...so you stretch yourself back on the armchair and feel the sun fall on your face, as it sets to rise once again...the sun is the strongest when it nears its end...you take the first sip of your tea..it burns your tongue..you curse it, calling it all the possible names you could think of and then suddenly you burst out laughing...it didn’t matter...it never did... so you go back to talking to the sun...

"The only thing that doesn't change is Change itself"

Finding expressions in words...

Turning actions into emotions..

Discovering music in every sound.....

Creating wings in your every step...

Learning beyond knowledge...

Reaching beyond infinity...
Flying without wings...

Inventing everything in nothing.....

Changing tears into laughter...

Converting hope into belief...

I believe.....

FEEL FOR THE WRONG........

I feel for the wrong. The bad. The rejected.The ignored. The invisible.The unaccepted.The retarded. There is a truth about them that is easily misunderstood and misjudged. That, which we judge and try to change. There is a greater beauty in them than our souls can ever accept.
Yes, i have always felt for the wrong, cause when they are true, they are true with all their heart and they have no reason  not to be ....

THE UNTAMED WIND

Life was not actually difficult for him. it was simple, ruled by just one rule-do what your hearts yearns to do. and he did. it wasn't difficult. it was easy, too easy.
"maybe that was the problem", he thought. but strangely it was others who found it difficult. his actions never made any sense to them. they could not  be justified with the normal norms of human or social needs, other than just an instinct of one's soul. the world could not digest in the fact the someone could be so.......himself........

Freedom. it has been and still continues to be the sole purpose of man's life. Freedom. and the search for it has driven man forward all these centuries.

"But if this guy was truely free, as he lived to be, then what was his purpose in life now?", the whispers carried herself amongst the crowd.he made the world look into themselves.like a mirror unafraid of reflecting the truth, he reflected. of all they could have been , but didnt, and all they didnt have to, but are.it was unintentional. he wished he could help it. but he couldnt. he was, after all, the untamed wind...

"THE PROLOGUE"

                                                             ........where distances does not matter, and physical presence 
                                                                                                                 just becomes a myth................

And in that partially-smudged ‘royal-blue’ fountain pen ink , were written those words.....

“ Dear Ev,

Thanks  for your diary. We have known each other for over half an year now and since then have come pretty close to each other. You have been their in my highs and lows. And I have given you some of my extreme  emotions of life-highest highs and lowest lows. There were times when I took you for granted(“ just another girl next door). But times have changed. Situations have changed. People have changed. Our relationship has changed... some people raise the standard of friendship so high that it is hard to find another best friend. After Vivek, it was hard to find one.. after Umang, even harder. But after you, its not possible to have anyone else. Nothing can be greater than infinity, right! I’ve always asked you for favors  one after the another. You have never refused. You have given me your everything without asking anything for return. Ask me to do something for you. Let me be at your service for a change. I’ll be dying to fulfill your wish. I’ve made you cry at times. Though I never meant to. Your ever tear is more precious to me than you. And I am a miser. I don’t like losing my precious things. So promise me, you wont cry even for me. I’m not making any promises to myself, so I’m at liberty to do whatever I want. But you wont cry for any damn reason.

But look you yourself. Who are you to me? Merely a reason which pulls me back again and again to the tennis court. Merely a seat mate for whose company I’m still coming to college when no one does. Merely a pain killer who has helped me to survive the harsh environment of Kashmir. I’m still alive and kicking just because of you. Someone I cant see troubled at all. And I would beat the shit out out any damn person who says anything bad about you.

All these, anyone could have been, but no one ever was and no one ever will be. Still, you are no one to me. Who are you? A friend-not exactly.something beyond than that. Then, a best friend? No, they only share their voices, not their silence. So is it love? Nah!! I’ve rarely seen people in love talking to each other so openly with laughter dripping down their eyes. Then what? It’s something that the human race could never understand and so has no name for it. But does a relationship need a name to exist. I hope not. And we have reached so far into each other with full understanding, that it does not have any future. We can’t spend the rest of our life together. We have accepted this harsh truth as it is... but one thing is for sure.even if we marry someone else and have football teams and basketball teams, nothing is going to change between us. Our laughter will still be innocent without the shackles of society. We’ll still be together.

Finally, just thanks (informal one) for taking my rudeness and my criticism with the same love you took my smile, my friendship and my love.

May we never part our souls. No matter what.

Hell lots of love,

AHAN.........

(keep shining, even when I won’t be there to shine with you) ”

                                   To the one person, who taught me how to write......

                      To the one person who taught me how to breathe my life..........

 Who was he, or rather, ‘what’ was he? she never knew... he was different, the only one of his own kind......free like a bird, yet who loved challenging the wind.... stern but never arrogant....strong enough but gentle.....  Mysterious but never detached, his life was like an open book, yet with volumes unread.... silent, yet speaks volumes.....constrained, but by his own will...ignorant but never indifferent...crazy but the most  senselessly- sensible guy on planet...forgetful(very) but concerned(very)....mostly confused but never been so sure. He had the eyes that could speak any language. A smile that could vaporise any tears in it. The most cunning, innocent and naughtiest smile (all the same time), and the shabbiest hair.......

The first week of meeting  him, and she realised that she would lose him for a long time. She knew her life would change forever and that, they might  never be forever together. She had no claim over him. She didn’t want to miss him, even before she had met him. And so she wrote... Every single word. Preserving.treasuring.Every stolen second from the time.....a  desperate attempt of a girl to capture into words what could never even  be contained  in experience...and so she wrote....

BROKEN REFLECTIONS...

To the me in me,

I know you enjoy this game you play,

The cold war inside, all stirred and planned.

Surprising each other, unpredictable as always..

But you should know, what you have can leave one day.

To the dear me in me.

Please don’t cry, I’ll be at your side,

Don’t feel alone, I’ll hold your hand.

No matter how much I mock, I’ll care for you with life.

You complete me, without you , how shall I survive?

To the me in me.

Your emotional swings have never bored my life.

Amusing and surprising, how you switch and change the plans..

You never get tired, 20 years of experience, have taught me that.

But please also care for the part of me in you that thrives...

To the dearest me in me.

I know you feel incomplete , lost at times.

I know I leave you, when you feel most deprived.

It’s not on intention, I pray you’ll understood that.

Sometimes, being away was the best gift you can have...

To the me in me,

I know you understand, I know u care.

But the part in me, at times feels so scared.

You are brave , you are bold, so much more matured.

Sometimes I wish, god! Why can’t I be so..?

To the dear me in me.

You say I know, the things I do.

You say I realise, the words all true.

But you should know, you have made me so.

The boldest thing in life , was never to let you go.

To the me in me.

I’ll wait, I’ll learn, the lessons that you teach.

After all, we owe each other more than what we preach.

And until we are strong, we’ll play this game along,

Of mocking, crying, laughing, and tagging all along.

To the dearest me in me,

Keep  holding, keep hanging on.

This lesson,you should learn to survive them all.

Try not to fall or break in life.

Coz I promise to be back a soon as I’m done with my life.

and i smile in me.............

DRIFT....IN THE STAGNANT WHIRLPOOL...

Life a whirlpool, constantly tending to nothing...

We  move too  fast, churning and whirling...

Engulfing every idea, every thought...

Of understanding and accepting..

Of not expecting, but respecting...

We play in this pool of mind...

Constantly diving, in and out...

Like a whirlpool, to nothingness...

The creator and destroyer thyself...

The pain and the antidote..

We fall, float. Drift...

Into a world of dreams and illusion..

Waiting for a greener shore..

That world of utopia.Encore!!....

A  world so much more...

How different is it?

A whirlpool and stagnant water.

Both dwelling in themselves...

The beginning and end, know not even thee..

I  float in this stagnant whirlpool of my mind...

Loving it, diving , swimming in every memory of mine....