You'll love me again.....

  As time and again

The pain jarrs the heart

I ask myself 

Why do I care?

As time and again 

The words pierce through

I ask myself

Why did I ever care?

Haven't I seen enough?

Haven't I cried enough?

Then why do I still feel?

Then why do I still care?

Maybe 'coz my heart still beats...

Maybe 'coz I still have hope 

Maybe 'coz I still believe...

That you'll love me again....

Maybe your eyes will shine again

With the light of love unspoken.....

Maybe your fingers will touch again

To ease the pain of wounds unseen.....

Maybe your memories will give me the strength

To wait......

To wait for the day,

When you'll love me again.....

That day you'll love me again....

I'll wait.

I'll wait till forever.....

To make you love me again.....

Unfinished....

   Dry leaves rustled on the sidewalk adorned by the haunting shadows of bare mangled branches...another spring gone by,another winter came by.The little baby in the house round the corner outgrew his little shoes,the old grandma in the second house had to undergo yet another surgery and his son had another promotion.Time seemed to be moving on,or not.
   Cause like everday for the last years,the number of which nobody cared to remember,he walked down.Same time,same man,same route,and same destination,if only anybody knew it.Only his posture seemed to be drooping a little more,his steps a tad bit slower,his silhouette more tired....
  The little boy who used to wait to see him pass by at morning has a child of his own and long since given up feeling excited to see him turn round the corner.....playing children had followed him more than once but given up when he turned three corners more and stopped at a flower shop....
 Today also he was there,trudging along,like he had an unfinished task,only nobody knew or bothered what....



Sharp shrieks pierced the air and a crowd gathered around the young boy writhing in pain from the electric current flowing through his body...there was no way he could pull his little hand away from the wire mesh holding it like a magnet...there was no way he could retrieve the ball lying inside that mesh...maybe never.The crowd stood like statues,some apalled,some afraid to risk themselves...until a cane stick lashed out at the little hand...the boy lay flung over on the sidewalk,bleeding,whimpering....the crowd moved,but he was already there...so much faster than his stooped pace..so much possessed than his hypnotised stance.....he turned over the boy,took him up in shaking hands,hailed a taxi and sped off....and the crowd stared.The routine had been broken.

That evening,he lay,lifeless,on his son's grave,a single rose in his hand..If anybody had bothered ,he would have known that his 16 year old son had died by electrcution from an open wire in the road,35 years ago,two days before his daily visits to to the cemetory had started.Maybe,he finished his unfinished job that day....maybe...

The Mask and The Muse....

"God has given you one face,and you make yourself another"
                                                                                       -William Shakespeare

    Whenever it has so happenned that the worldy situations proclaimed a truth of my life,which I was not particularly happy to conform with,I have been told,"Maybe that is how it was meant to be..."     I believe in destiny...I believe we are all meant to be something,to be someone,we were born to be a certain person...yes,a certain person...a person which we are but we never live...its just like another colourful mask languishing in the overflowing cupboard of human emotions....
   Simple things...you did much rather have had a pav bhaji but chose a lasagne...you would have taken that sweet teddy but you chose a picture frame for your friend...we say because its more "appropriate"....or is it just more convenient to shut ourselves off behind this pretence and save ourselves the misery the vulnerability that being real comes with....its not about stigma,its not about being taunted....its about keeping yourself safe...safe from whom,the person you call your soulmate?The person whom you call a "chaddi-buddy"?Or the person whom you call "Dad"?Or simply,from yourself?
I think most of us are rather afraid of themselves...somewhere we are too afraid to let ourselves out...
But again,by keeping ourselves shut behind those self-created barriers,we lose the chance to experience the beauty of those moments of being just ourselves....opening our barriers,going beyond the coccoons of propriety...if we just stop judging people with the rusted yardsticks of old,we can just find beautful persons behind those "wrong" masks,true friends behind the "dont mix" tags,a muse behind the "bastard".....
  It just depends on how we chose to look at it,whether we look at what the world wants us to see or whether we use our own eyes...its time we stopped acting,and moved the props,because the view beyond is sure to be much more enjoyable...the life beyond much more livable....


We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others that in the end we become disguised to ourselves.  ~François Duc de La Rochefoucauld


Lets be something more than just a disguise.....Lets be US.

Of Aspirations and Adulations....

West Indies-174/7(39 overs)...the air in the TV room is cheery,evident from the intermittent shouts coming up to my room on the first floor...just an hour ago though the story was quite,if not fully different.The faces bore a resigned anger,ranging from irritation to frustration....and while I went out to vent some of my own frustration,my friend put up a point which nags me often enough but never enough to speak it out loud.Or let me say the truth-I am too afraid of the retorts so to say....
   Lets say one of us works in a MNC...and has screwed up some project.Sure,he is in the boss's line of fire,the subject of ridicule of his colleagues and maybe some not-so-well-wishers.But do people swear to kill him?Do some hundreds of people run to wreck his home...burn his effigies?I think not.Then why that bunch of 20-odd people?Because they have chosen something as a profession that is the passion for half the population of the country?Or because they have "chosen" to make themselves public property?
    Seriously,the people who partake such nonsensical behavior go back home and have a good nights sleep.But then who is there to watch the players slog out from the wee hours of the morning to eerie hours of the night.Why are they criticised when they are found partying?Dont other people with jobs party?
   I firmly believe every person has his or her own set of responsibilities,own priorities....you cant thrust your own ambitions on them.That too for the selfish reason that you want your entertaiment.Yes,its just that for most of us.A source of entertainment,something to talk about.Thats it.Who gives a thought about those who get injured and lose their careers?About how much they sacrifice when they come out in the field looking to fulfill the ambitions of some 100 crore hearts?Some fainthearted people,they must be!
Why cant we let it remain a game...why cant we treat the players as we do other people...why cant we accept that they are human,they make their faults.And they have their strenghts.Just as we dont want our neighbours peeking into our bedrooms,we also shouldn't peek into others....what they do on the field should be left just there,on the field,where it belongs.
  At the end of the day,they are adults,who know what they want and hopefully what they have to do get what they want.And for them,each match is much more than the final result...they have a lot at stake.A Lot.
 So why dont we just leave them to fight their own battles?Because somewhere,we cant fight theirs,and they cant fight ours.
Now India has won the match...all we care about...so nobody now really minds Yuvraj's womanising ways or Dhoni's dares...till times change.Which,for their sake,I hope are for the better.
    Amen.

Why grow up.....?

“Too many people grow up.That’s the real trouble with the world,too many people grow up.They forget.They don’t remember what its like to be 12 years old.They patronize,they treat children as inferiors.Well,I won’t do that.”

      These words were said by the man who made a mouse into a mascot for honest entertainment.Yes,he was Walt Disney.And going back to what he said,we all know that he had almost redefined childhood.

The last time I was home,I went out with my parents and my little niece,only to fall head over heels in love with a cute and large balloon -it was a moment of sheer weakness and without realising or thinking,I loudly voiced my desire.Only to be met  with the loudest of guffaws!Now,how crushing is THAT!And believe me,I was both astounded and dismayed to see that my niece had shown no similar signs of adoration for the thing which,reportedly,was more apt of her age.That made matters worse-“You,a college-going grown up girl want a balloon?-they asked.True,all was said and done in good humor,but that made me think.What do you mean by “growing up”?How do you define the term?

    The online dictionary defines defines  it as “to develop and mature gradually”-but I ask is it really as simple as that?

   Or is it letting go of all things that you once held  dear-that mangled car under the bed or the ragged doll with one eye blinded due to over-enthusiastic petting?Is it about outgrowing the yo-yo s?Or is it about frowning over the ink-filled pages which tell the story of your excellent teaching skills,albeit over some helpless,mute lesser life forms…most of them conjured out of thin air?

I remember,when my father used to say that one day he has to grow old,I would protest with all the voice my lungs could muster.There is a comfort in knowing that he will remain the same,the world will remain the same forever,an amazing security in feeling that his mane would never turn  gray as his father’s had done before him.

Childhood as I remember was about believing in a universe that was more utopian than real….where “happily ever after” was not a mere “fairytale” ending,but a way of life.It was taking everything face-value,it was falling down,getting up and running again.Fearlessly.The stakes may have been low,but the joy was complete.

Growing up….it came with understanding the nuances in life,the intricacies in relationships,the frailty of the bonds which had promised to be forever.It came with the realisation that you can never take anything for granted….it came with the strive to fight for what you wanted,going that extra mile for someone you love….

Growing up brought with it heartbreaks galore….the triumphs  were exhilarating and the failures life-wrecking.The stakes had increased.Disillusioned,I asked my Mother….why did I grow up?And she said “because childhood was the bud and adulthood is the blossom the bud is destined to become.”

It was then that I realised that we did not really have a choice and we did not necessarily have to let go of what we were to be what we are….because what  we were is an integral part of what we are…..confusing?Well, I was,and still am!

I will say,why do we have to let go of yesterday to step into tomorrow….they can go hand in hand through time that is today…..why cant we still enjoy the horror-stricken Jurassic Park  nights… the scintillating SRK-Kajol chemistry…because its melodramatic?But can you deny  that packets of chips,bottles of coke and a fight over the best seat that becomes more dramatic than the movie itself was the best thing that could have happened to you?Well,it certainly was,for me!

“Growing old is mandatory,growing up is optional”-for me,that’s what its all about .Its about the option we have to enjoy the best of both worlds…. The maturity of adulthood truly makes us realise the value of the innocence the world is bereft of…. the inherent innocence behind the suspense of huddling under a blanket and discussing subjects which had been labelled with the tag of forbiddenness  with my more knowledgeable cousins….and keeping the ears open for any sign of any unwanted interruption in the form of my mother,mostly!

Till now,I have lived a life behind closed doors and the windows have never been enough to take in the wide horizon….but today,standing in an open field full of plastic blossoms,my heart aches for that natural drifting fragrance….it was not enough then,but it is all I want now…..

Difficult,considering the world doesn’t go round the way I want it to….but I believe in something I read sometime back-“The trick is in growing up without growing old”-and there lies the fine difference….taking life as it comes,learning to face,fight and win over the obstacles life brings us is a way of growing up….but that cynical mentality which likes to believe in the worst of everyone or everything is growing old…and it is for us to chose what we want….to grow up or grow old…..?

I would love to grow up…because there is a satisfaction in looking at the world through a tinted glass….imperfect as the view may be….because,atleast the colours would filter the sceptism of the world around. To be frank,I did much rather be happy in my own way than be correct to the whole world.Because it takes a lot to be correct,but it takes the world to be happy…..

I would like to end with a text message I had received on the only day when we can unabashedly celebrate the child in us…..

“I want to go back to the time when

“innocence” was natural,

When “getting high” meant on a swing,

When “drinking” meant rasna

When “dad” was the only hero,

When love was mom’s hug’when “dad’s shoulder” was the highest place on earth

When your worst enemies were your siblings,

When the only thing that hurt were bleeding knees,

When the only things broken were toys,and when goodbyes only meant “till tomorrow”

Today life has changed a lot….A salute to the days that were.Happy Children’s Day.

through the fingers......like quicksand....

A toddler struggling in the walker....in fathers lap wearing a towel.....oggling at the knife on the first birthday....enjoying a bucket chase....a part of a big,happy family....smiling cousins,adoring aunts ....doting grandparents.....picture perfect...isn't it?
  Yes,these are are snapshots I come across when I try to go back in time....try to know where it all started...where the journey,MY journey started....and no,really I have not got any satisfying answers....and in this decade long of search I have lost track of a hundred more of beginnings...beginnings which now elude me with their mystery....
 When did I make the two oldest friends of my life...and when did I outgrow their company,or they outgrew mine?When did I start questioning my parent's decisions and arguing them on it....when did I start having a mind of my own....having ideas of my own...when did I break of my shell and become this adamant individual who does not think twice before dealing a retort...?
I think when I became tired of being trodden on...being bogged down...of being the "sweeet little girl" who doesnt mind,or rather say a thing...
 But being what I was was fun too....the uncomplicated feelings,the unmingled joys...they were reason enough to live for....and still are....
I live in the past....a lot of it...I still live the dressing up games I played with my cousin...I loved dressing him up in my "jewelleries" and make him look like a girl....I hope HE doesnt remember those days(entirely for my own safety!)...I live the long holidays at my grandparent's place.....jumping up and down to get to the box of prized bourbon biscuits kept on top....making a hot foam bath and using up a whole bottle of shampoo in the process....the horror-stricken nights of Jurassic Park....the mesmerising SRK-Kajol chemistry in Kuch Kuch Hota Hai...the dosa eating competitions(which I invariably lost,everytime)....the fights over who loves Dida more....the honest jealousy,the untainted companionship,the undemocratic criticism.....
I still live the pujas...the whole house humming with the festive spirit....the dressing up...the waiting at the gate for someone who is putting finishing touches on her make-up....for chasing down Baba because he walks too fast...the counting of heads so that nobody gets lost....the oral test of address and phone number in case we do...the intentional forgetting of water bottles so that we could get a Coke...the long nights with my sister exploring many naughty,and some not so naughty topics(she enlightened me on a lot of "ahem ahem" things)...the sharing of all that mattered....staying up till dawn cooking up fascinating stories....the taste of the phuchkas....the chicken kosha...the diligently following of "adult" serials,much to the annoyance of Ma-Baba...!!
  The spirit when my whole family decided to play the ghost game after midnight in a deserted road after we had watched Dil toh Pagal Hai and I was dreaming of my own Rahul....the laughter in those family get-togethers....the humor in dropping a bucket full of coloured water from the 3rd floor terrace on somebody's head on Holi....the gojas and nimkis,the narkoler(coconut) mishti...the tea in a bowl with a dozen biscuits...the football matches in bed with my footballer brother....the nostalgia grips me,big time....
And then,we grew up,or so to say...we had operation aussies....we had guys wooing girls by intimidating some other poor soul....we had "politics" between friends....we had "conspiracies" and counter-conspiracies....we had doses of Marxism and intellectualism....we had arguments,about physics and much more....about rotation of benches,for instance....we had suddenly foung new significance in geography notes...new fun in certain bylanes...new enjoyment in weird hallucinations....
Yes....I can just go on and describe all those snippets flashing before my eyes....I can describe every single incident as vividly as ever...only that,they are not relevant....not now...not anymore.
Or so I thought....till I realised,without the roots the plant is non-existent,without a name the place is faceless...without Me,I am soulless....
And this was me....without the beginning...without the milestones....without the turns....it was Me...Me,the quicksand which I have now learnt to hold back....never to let go....because its just not worth it.

Today,Tomorrow,Forever.....

 I remember,in all slam books I have filled till date,there,at the very last,is a line,reading"Dated......" and invariably,I,like many others would fill the gaps with the coveted word, "Forever....".
 FOREVER.It happened to be a very secure refuge of the insecurity-ridden hearts that were ours.....the word forever.It was as if that one word would in itself hold together all of us who were,it would never let the chains loose.....but,it seems,what we failed to notice was powders of rust making their way up and up.....
  And then.Then started the metamorphosis of forever to TOMORROW....our tomorrow,my tomorrow and your tomorrow,it was no longer about forever;no longer about what we had but we wanted to have;no longer about what we loved but about what we had to love.....the tomorrow was here.And how.
  We missed the rust that claimed forever,and we failed to foresee the storm that was tomorrow.And there it was....hitting us full in the face,destroying our cocoons...leaving us to fight the battle,unseen,unprepared.Like every storm that hits a coast,the storm of tomorrow took with it all the sand-dunes of hopes and promises....all the castles of dreams and dosti.....the house of cards was down.Never to go up.
     But now,at this moment,I realise,I can neither blame Tomorrow,nor Forever.They did what they had to do,its just that we did not.We built the sand-dunes too near the sea,the castles too frail and the house of cards much in the way of the wind.They,but,could never have been for Forever.....
   So Today,what I am going to do is look into what I have now,and will build up all that has been lost in the quest for something beyond.......and I will make this TODAY last FOREVER......all through the upcoming TOMORROW.I Will.

I Belong......

Manipal....the world I belong to...now.Time and again when I talk to people from the world I used to belong to.....they will be asking the same question.....do you like it there?Are you happy there?And I say,"Yes.Of course!The food is great,the hostels are good,teachers are fine....what more would I want?"
   Even sometimes when I think,this seems a very logical answer to give...I have everything I want,so why would I not be happy?But at the end of the day,if I want to do justice to myself....I ask do I really want to be here?And then,I cannot fool myself anymore.
   I belong to a world that has more bimbettes than girls,a world which has more shallowness than depth,a world which is more pretty than it is beautiful.All this time,throughout my modest upbringing,I have come to respect,to love people for what they are,to stand by some values,some virtues,"behenji" as I may be called.But isnt "behenji" better than a cupboard full of brands and an empty conscience?Is it not better than judging people by their monthly exenditure rather than their concern for you....but again,concern is "nagging"!
      Till now I have lived a life behind closed doors...and the windows have never been enough to experience the wide horizon....now,standing in an open field full of plastic blossoms...my heart aches for that natural drifting fragrance....it was not enough then,but it is all I want now.
     Difficult,considering,that the world doesnt go round the way I want it to!But I will keep trying.....trying my best to be the person I believe I should be....till the day those same people get a new person to emulate....ME.