The Rain

                 Getaway...was a word that Naina often repeated in her mind, no matter what she was busy with. Not that she was bored with life or anything but she was the kind who liked to do what he/she loved, give it the name of a 'job', an answer to the mundane question people ask,'What do you do?'. Well those days she was raising her little one, this question posed serious threat-to herself sometimes though she knew what she was doing was right.The work involved with looking after an infant wasn't exactly what she loved to do...the tiny bundle was a joy though. She remembered once when she went to someone's house and they did not ask,'What do you do?' but 'Who looks after your child?', she was perplexed. So busy she had been raising her son (had accepted the fact that he deserved her 24/7, at least for few years and she just didn't have the heart to leave her baby in some stranger's (called baby sitter)  hand and go to 'work'). So she said,'Why? I look after my son, who else would?' It was only after some time, she remembered that people assumed, with the kind of education she had, that she would obviously be working, so the question.
                         Anyway that was years back, now she had a business of her own, and the son had grown, her husband a busy executive, life was going on. She had a conference to attend at Panchgani and she was looking forward to it. She was looking outside the window. It was raining...green spread all around, the Earth seemed to have gone crazy, sprouting anything and everything green as if she had suppressed a lot of things for a quite a long time and it just needed a drop from the Majestic Sky to bring forth innumerable things buried inside the brown crust. Well, both hands on the hips, she stared long at the showers that slanted, and vanished deep into the mud. The rains had always mesmerised her. Navin...a handsome guy in her college and the college tour....'Hey ! Naina sing us a song, they all shouted'. All her classmates were what she called 'Junglee'. Anyway before she could think of what to sing (she was blessed with a good voice and ofter sang in get togethers), someone started,'Rim jhim girey sawan...' Yup. it was raining outside and at first she thought someone was mocking her but the voice went on and got everyone spellbound till it finished. She as if on a cue sang 'Mausam hai aashiyana...' the old song from Meena kumari's film 'Paakiza' and once again everyone was quiet. Navin was the guy she learned, who sang and he clapped for her getting up from his place. Now what he did was spontaneous and she liked him instantly. The next two years were like they were partners in all cultural activites.
                          Strange but they never felt anything called 'love'. They shared mutual interests and both were busy in their lives involving their families and of course the career that they wanted to have. But everytime it rained, something stirred inside her especially when she was with him. And that day in the college canteen when they were having tea, with torrent pouring outside, both became silent after discussing something. The silence between them was soothing. They didn't need to explain anything to each other for being so. It was then Navin had taken her hand and clasped in his. It was wonderful. And he had asked,'Will you marry me?' 'The usual love story', she thought, would start and end up in marriage...like the scores she saw around. Was there more to life ? 'Naina', Navin's voice had broken her reverie. 'Well, Navin', she said,' The most obvious has happened finally. But you know what, our meeting each other w/o staying together is so beautiful. Marriage will spoil it. Can't we go on like this?' She knew it couldn't go on like this especially when Navin wasn't ready. They stuck nevertheless and moved in together after she convinced him. Life was good.
                            But her pregnancy had thrown her into introspection. She couldn't imagine her child w/o a father's name and well, they got married. 'Naina' shouted her husband,' We got to leave, the flight is at 3.' 'Oh ! why can't Navin become the guy he used to be ?, she thought'. 'I wish I could re-live the romantic experience once again, all over....' Well for now she rushed to the airport, waved 'bye byes' and took the window seat. She didn't prefer the aisle seat. Somehow she felt exposed, sitting next to the passage. The corner was always better and she could gaze out at eternity and think..random thoughts...She started fastening her seat belt when someone clasped her hand and she froze. Somehow the touch was soothing. She was never comfortable with strangers but who's this she thought and turned to look at a guy, who looked same as her age.'Excuse me', my hand. 'Oh ! sorry,' He said. 'Actually I felt a little giddy so held your hand. Sorry once again. Mallick, Shashank Mallick' and he extended his hand which she took and introduced herself too. 'Vertigo?' said she
'Yup' sometimes though, he replied. ' May I know something about yourself ? Can we talk?'
'God ! how long had it been since someone had posed this question so directly, i.e.someone who she wasn't familiar with?' she thought. 'Oh ! sure, I don't know what to speak about myself but I am a consultant (own a consulting business) at times, writer at other, a mom most of the time and well look after a home and a husband.' And you ?
'Same' he said. Only minus the looking after the house/spouse part.
After they had discussed their families which somehow appeared to legalise their conversation, to her, i.e. she felt secure about opening up to him. He was extremely courteous which impressed her. He appeared a 100 % family man but yet something was captivating about him...the way singles do..Was he like her ? Like she always felt deep down she was someone always 'Independant individual, owning herself completely' The mother/wife and other relationship labels aside, she was Naina, just plain Naina.
'What is your identity Naina?' he asked. I mean mom/wife etc. the way you said...'at times.' What do you feel as, most of the time?
She felt a knot in her stomach. Why should he ask such a question ? She didn't want to discuss herself with this stranger who appeared to be matching her wavelength. 'What is yours ?' You first tell me,' said Naina.
'I am Shashank. That's it. Like now  I am at most of the times, though performing the roles which family/occupation demands. But I feel more close to myself now, that I am alone, 1000s of ft above ground. What say ?
'Easily said and beautifully put.' said she.Same. I feel the same. No different.
Then silence. The same old silence which was not threatening. Her heartbeat speeded up. Why should she like this: the silence ?
'Can we stay in touch?' he said while fastening his seat belt as the giant was about to start the Landing process.
.'Yes ' she said. Anyway we have two days at the conference in Panchgani.
They both alighted and headed off to Panchgani from Mumbai. The journey had started...she anticipated few moments she could relive, but that's it. Then both would return home, where their responsibilities waited.

State of mind

                  What happens to the perfectly settled mind sometimes? Why does it get cross-wired ? Chaos sets in. Nothing seems to pacify. Like the silent murmur of the blues suddenly broke loose...into a noisy furore. Like a symphony turned cacophony. Its temporary...but yet its there...till the bedlam subsides. Reason... logic...doesn't work. Its beyond. Life says,'This's it. Face it. How would you know what a melody is if you didn't experience a discord ? The struggle is worth it. When you override the pain...you come up....catch the fresh breath of air...those heavenly gasps after almost having drowned. Why do you want everything sweet...everything smooth ? Life asks. Enjoy the few turbulences that I give you. Hang on ! Its then you must have a perspective...on yourself. Take a few steps back...observe..endure with a posture that only you can give yourself...Noone else can..

                

Out of the Milieu

                           She liked the word 'Oblivion'. Often times she had to commute using the public transport..the Metro train or the buses. She couldn't afford to drive to work. She would take the cab whenever she felt like. Well, the daily commute amongst people in all sizes and shapes was at times blissful because they all were just there and not bothered about her, may be a few glances but that's it. Then they left her to herself. And that she liked. She could be oblivious to the people, surroundings- legally, not confined by the 'issues of  right or wrong'. drowned in the music she listened to or sometimes to the thoughts that ran in a myriad mental landscape. She was more comfortable there.
                        All imaginations came alive when she went into that trance like state. She was amused by the fact that she could afford to think 'weird things' definitely not possible by the usual mortal standards. And that she could think amongst the conventional crowd,  made her feel powerful, exceptional,exhilarating,. She had never been bothered by comments like ' aloof, don't care type etc'. She couldn't afford to be anything but 'original'. She had to be her 'core self'. Well today she thought may be she could have been a 'Film director' because that's where you make all unnatural things appear true. She didn't like anything 'typical'. How strange ? You are physically very much there amongst people or places, but you don't belong ! You exist somewhere else ! The daily subsistence was like the wheels of an automobile that went round and round (redundant in motion) but the forward shift of the dragster could be exciting...direction less...piquant !

Just a thought

                 Amidst the 'must do's' of life : earning money being the numero uno, family, friends...all which revolve around 'others', writing connects one to his/her own self. Going through the poems or other stuff that one jots down, is like graduating in the different levels of the psyche. I have always found a deep sense of peace whenever I have flipped the pages of my diary and re-read them. It has clarified my thinking. It gives me an inner sense of stability as I read them (of course after long gaps because it looks redundant otherwise). Now I hate this as the urgency to yet another 'must do' creeps and I have to leave...

SMS

                           She woke up somewhat disturbed. Sat on the bed trying to figure out what it was. Of course ! She had met Asim last night. Hmm ! the hangover ? Not again. What kind of euphoria was this ? She shook away the thought by springing on her feet, pulling the top down, looked at her own figure, smiled somewhere inside proud of the fact that she was slim and why wouldn't anyone like her ? She did belong to the 'beautiful' category. Wore her slippers, tied the unruly hair up, pinnin it up in her buckles, looking at herself in the mirror. Then she stopped. Why did this have to happen ? She was stupidly envying herself. Asim's glances.......The figure in the mirror belonged to him. She could almost feel him wrapping his arms around her, planting a kiss on her neck and...the cell started vibrating.
                            She did not like the instrument spoiling such a romantic mood. She would have stood like that for eternity, her mind creating all fantasies which had become a habit by now. She didn't fight the feeling of wanting him badly. She accepted that he belonged to her. Silly. She was that kind. She had to have ownership. She was wise enough not to show that to him. Men. They didn't like to be owned. Sometimes perhaps ? Well she saw the message. Just two letters. She couldn't believe he had sent it ? Things had become sort of formal between them since past year. Both knew that each of them cared. But he stuck to his principles. He was right in his own way. She broke all conventions by telling him she loved him. She had to be true to herself or else she couldn't be at peace. Funny she dilly dallied things a lot weighing their pros and cons and then a point would come when she would just decide and then implement it.Years had passed after that. It was not that she was not happy by not having him by her side. Contentment came in many forms and she had busied herself. He was busy too. But everytime they met, she would come home with some form of longing. Did he feel that way ? Oh ! this love and its dramatics. Could someone explain why it had to butt in its head at intervals? She thought not meeting him at all will solve the problem. Because she was at peace, concentrating on her work/friends/reading etc. She was one who couldn't live without enjoying life
                               Meeting him caused turbulence and tremendous ones at that. It almost took two days to subside that down. Wasting of time and resources, her mind would say. But the heart was not even there with her for those two days ! Why don't the two organs work at tandem ? The lines 'My heart my own, traitor alone...'flashed across her mind. She had written those lines in her school days. 'Oh ! Asim, come on, call me now. Tell me what these two letters mean. And you wrote it at midnight ? Can't take that as an accident. I mean some keys in the cell getting pressed which happens yes, many times unknowingly. But scrolling down, sorting the names doesn't happen by mistake. I know better. I'll wait. This dilemma, this suspense, is beautiful, worth enduring. Its always like that. The wait is exciting. The result takes minutes to happen. The end must come after a length. I have you in words...dumb words. Later you will speak...to my waiting ears.'

Frenzy

                         How many times would life inflict that emotion ? Was pain an emotion ?  'I mean not the physical pain, but that which causes discomfort...tumult', she thought. Not that she wasn't able to deal with it. Having walked three decades and five on this earth had given her wisdom enough to 'Think and then act'. But something had happened past week. She had been in the library for a long time, looking for some stuff for the ppt she intended to show the class scheduled on saturday. Exhausted, she dropped herself back on the swivel chair that accomodated Sarla, the librarian few hours ago. Everyone had left except herself. The staff knew about 'Madam's obsession with books. She had just closed her eyes when she felt something warm on her lips. Scared to wits, she woke up startled, ......to look at a face she had almost forgotten. Rohit, his shoulders bent and hands clasping the back of the chair, gave her a look that spoke millions....
                           'Rohit, I am not upto it. I am just not going to the roof of that snaking slide and forget about sliding all the way down on that float !!' shouted Radhika. Rohit had been urging her to go on the water slide knowing perfectly well that she was scared of heights. Both had met during one of those international workshops, Radhika's institution arranged every five years. They had gelled well of course. And on that day when a trip to the most famous Waterpark had been arranged, Radhika had no clue she would be sliding down in one of those ! Thanks to Rohit who coaxed her to climb and had pushed her, and within minutes the crazy ride ended with her being thrown into the water. She had discovered 'Fear' could be fun too. There was no looking back after that. Both would look forward to evenings when they would meet. They were mentally tuned. Absolutely at ease with each other. What had happened then ? He had been sent to the U.K. for an year. Somehow she hadn't been able to join. They were in touch everyday, He was excited about the life there. Missed her but there were plenty of things to do and so had preferred to stay back.
                           Radhika on the other hand was progressing too. She was the top HR trainer. She loved the variety of people she could have access to because of her job. Life was good. But...but she liked it crazy when she was with him. Wasn't ready to commit as yet. Neither was he. Very strange but their relationship had been platonic. He held her hands, hugged her.. that's it. She wouldn't make the move either. She was o.k. with this. No but not that day when she had felt intensly to be taken by him. The day before he left for Lincoln. He had come to say goodbye. She almost ran into his arms. He hugged her, looked into her eyes and then moved away to the window. She didn't know what to do because he didn't answer any of her questions and how could she....what would he think and she hadnt made the move. . And they had parted
                    This incidence would flash in a moment when she would be in a meeting or a party or was taking a walk with the girls. What went suddenly wrong when life would seem very promising ? She had no answers for the void that Rohit had left. He hadn't come even once after shifting. Well, but now here he was, in front of her in flesh and blood and what was that liplock meant to be ? He didn't give her time to think further and took her in his arms. They didn't speak through the long drive to his house. His one hand on the wheel, the other holding her. She had rested her head on his shoulders and didn't feel like speaking either.
                     The next morning brought her the reality of what she had done. To get physically involved before marriage, she couldn't digest the fact. She had fought the feeling many times before he left. What happened yesterday ? She was dazed. How could she feel happy about this ? Was it o.k. ? She came from a highly educated, cultured family. But somehow fulfilling the physical need with the person she loved to be with looked absolutely o.k. Was marriage necessary ? Rohit gave her that mischievous look and she sprang the question of marriage at him instead. He wanted her for life but like this, few days of separation and then moments of intense passion. She could not agree less. There was the thrill factor. But the agony remained
                           

The Getaway

                              The road looked to be going somewhere, not ending anywhere. I sat at the back of the Tavera. I loved to sit at the back all by myself, the view left by the vehicle and me was lovely to watch. It gave a feeling of moving ahead at the same time leaving things behind....fast (which didn't happen in day to day life... easily, that is 'the leaving part').
                           Strange, the women psyche clings to unwanted stories. I had graduated towards 'unclinging' but at times there were some silly things that I got stuck to. And then I took trips like this. The shining black/grey tar road sort of functioned the 'let go' phenomenon. I was big time into reading the 'Speaking tree' in the TOI, Khalil Gibran and othere philosophical things off late. Well, the song 'Bailamos' played which matched the mood. Enrique's voice was as usual mesmerising. I was there on the Dance Floor, grooving to the beats, each step matching the music. Heavenly ? My friend woke me up from my reverie and we both asked the driver to stop the vehicle.  Got down and seeing no one on the road did some crazy steps. We loved to do such  nutty things. '....it is like forever...tonight we dance, like no tomorrow...', the singer crooned. How true ? There's no tomorrow. We both agreed. and returned to our seats. The Spanish words did magic to the ears. Brought back memories of the song I sang in one of those 'Youth workshops', where after the Industrial visits, Mushroom projects, Fisheries etc. two hours in the evening was reserved for 'Entertainment/Talent Exposure'.Well I took the mike although a bit nervous and sang Madonna's 'La Isla Bonita'. Oh ! My ! Immediately attracted the attention of two guys who met later, to say 'You sing nice...have a good voice, diction etc.' One even proposed ! saying something like,'Hey ! I am two years your junior but I am ready to marry'. ??? Excuse Me ! Me and marriage ! I had exclaimed and anyway he didn't appeal to me. Not my taste at all.
                               Well.... few years laer, one more guy.......Hey this journey was getting interesting with my memory helping me to overcome the boredom. Well one more guy had got upset that I didn't accept the 'gift' he gave. Well, I was o.k. with his company although we had met for just three days but gift ?? Eek ! That was too personal. Hmm ! All the attention I got in my 20's, and post 20....well, was kind of sweet. 'Screech...' the vehicle took an abrupt stop which kind of upset my train of thoughts. It was irritating. Sally said,'Are you ok J ?'. For some reason she loved to call people by initials, may be she was lazy or crazy, could be both for sure.'Yup' I said and slid back into my 'hands crossed behind head" posture. Where was I ? Yes, the attention part.
                               Well, 'You, I met in my mid thirty's. You were (and are) a pain actually. I liked you (loved you) but I didn't want to adjust the way the usual lovers do. How boring to leave one's freedom ??? just because you love someone? No not me. Well actually I never told you that I loved you. You haven't said that too but somehow its like 'better left unsaid' status. Status...Isn't that word the social networking sites want to know about you every moment ? Well at times I feel like writing 'You' there in the 'What's on your mind'  section. How strange life can be, with us going on about our work till we meet after some time. Its painful actually to meet without letting each other know. "J, why don't you tell him?' Sally's voice booms all of a sudden from nowhere. And silly, how can she pry into my inner thinking like this ? Well not the first time though, so I have got used to it and I am o.k. with this one creature on earth, i.e. I can spend myself with her anytime, anywhere, anylong...'I don't want to', I tell my chum.
Why?
It will spoil the show Sally.
What show J ?
I mean this show that we both put on, of being normal people, normal dialogues, normal moments at the same time, our eyes communicating entirely different things.
Like what J ?
Oh ! you devil. I'll kill you. I won't tell that. That's mine. Completely mine. Won't disclose that to you for sure.
'Hopeless romantic', sighs Sally.
Actually not hopeless Sally, hopeful....of the day, time, space when we shall meet may be not. But there is hope that makes all this so beautiful. So let me get soaked in it, o.k. silly ?....And I doze off to my Utopia.









                 

Where's my Neo counter vanished ?

                        Its baffling. The technology can drive you nuts. After fidgeting with a couple of instructions like cut and paste url stuff...I was running out of time anyway, I stopped.  Will try later. Any help of course is welcome:)
                   Liked the dialogue 'Do tarah key aadmi hotey hai...achcha aadmi/bura aadmi...' in 'My name is Khan'. Made me think about the recent deaths of young students in the Pune Bakery blasts. The plight of a parent who unconditionally love their offspring, a kind of love unmatched, pure..and then suddenly one day finds that the being who they called their son or daughter is no more, is unfathomabele. A life which has barely started, to meet its end mid-way is very unfortunate. Its very difficult to endure certain things for which one can't find any answer for 'WHY ?' Hats of to all those Hindu-Muslim couples who not only tied the knot but are rearing their offsprings with a firm base of only "Humanity'. The Mumbai couple who refused to tick the caste/religion of their child in the form for Birth certificate saying they wanted their child to decide its religion is laudable. May the crowd grow !

The right words

                I just kept the phone down. And thought of the innumerable things I could have spoken, but didn't. How strange that later you get all the words right, appropriate for the situation which if you would have used. might have got the result you wanted. Never mind ! said the inner being which resides as if in oblivion, but nevertheless springs up at times. Well why does it happen, am yet to find out.
                        Caught unaware, a call that you are not expecting, puts you off gear. Well you have a choice of not taking it if you don't want to. But...you do anyway, on an impulse as if its a moral responsibility to take every call...Oh ! this unwired cell world ! I sent an sms and the person immediately called !! Not that I didn't want to take the call. But then couldn't speak in the natural way I do usually.
                 What does it take to put forth the real 'you' irrespective of the people, the situation ? Why do we become selective/defensive when it comes to projecting ourselves ? Why does the approval of 'other' matter ? I liked what I read somewhere...'Its o.k. to be hated for what I am than be loved for what I am not'.

If only...

           she called, thought Ayush. Ritika and Ayush had tied the knot an year before. Five years of courtship had finally led them to the altar. Ritika had just left a note that she was going out and he be assured that she would be o.k. Now that was something which was very unlike her. She didn't go all by herself anywhere, i.e. unknown to him. She would call him up to say where she was. All hows and whys clouded his otherwise clear thinking. He tried reminiscing about any verbal exchanges they had past week...
                  She was a radio jockey, he was a doctor, a bit serious one at that. He was dedicated to his work.Like he was to her. He was like that. He sort of picked one thing at a time to pour out everything of his into that...He was intense. And she had to have variety to spice up her life. She could make the things he thought serious, lighter to handle. She wanted people, and he wanted only her. She had found that very sweet indeed. Which girl wouldn't ? Till they got married. Ayush would often call her out in the midst of a conversation that she was having with, during the weekly social visits at their friends. They had common friends. And Ritika wished he joined the group. Nope. He was not the one to talk though. Once she had asked how come he was so cool about everything. Some friends and her had been discussing about the cops rounding off couples now that the Valentine Day was approaching. Ayush would say, ' If only by talking if we had solutions, then probably I would do that'. She would get disappointed. Then that means one need not voice out anything ?? Well she couldn't at least. And they would have fight over his non socialising and her need to connect with others, over his not being vocal about anything and she voicing everything. She was not the gregarious kind though. Strange but true still they loved each other enough to go crazy. Big time opposites in love. Well they had sort of got used to these fights which would shoot the adrenalin high and then they would be their own sweet selves after sometime. The fights didn't last. They made up fast. They couldn't do without each other.
                           Then where was she ? Ayush was frantic with worry. And dammit what guts she had to leave a note like that. He knew she wanted solitude at times. Crazy she was. Once whe would like company and the other moment she would beg to be literally alone. Yesterday ! yes, something had happened....Ayush couldn't place it though. He had come home early, opened the latch and found her engrossed on the laptop. She hadn't gotten up to hug him the way she did everytime he came home.  He had stealthily gone behind her and she hadn't even known ! She had yelled at him. And she had hurriedly closed the site on the net. Then they had laughed heartily. That's all he could remember. Yes but why had she closed down the system with a hurried look / Was she in some kind of cyber...Oh no ! He rang up her best friend. He hated doing this, a very private person that he was. Shital answered. 'Ritika, no she's not here. Hey ! are you home early today ?' He managed to mumble some suitable answer. He sat doing nothing for about an hour. May be she will come back. I really need not worry, He thought...about the night when she had gone all alone at around 11, after they had argued about something silly. He fretted inside but didn't go after her. She came back around 12. and they sort of made up. Sometimes even he would think 'This's a price to pay to stay committed'. But he had had enough of wanderings till he had found her. Like some signal that said 'Stop'. He had vowed to make the 'together' journey pleasant and fulfulling. What happened then ?
                  There was a knock on the door. He sprang to his feet. There she was...cool, nonplussed. The first emotion he had for her was anger, but he kept to himself. 'Where did you go? And why didn't you call me ?' She didn't answer, plonked herself on the bean bag instead. Well Ayush, I needed a break. 'Break from what Ritika ?' 'I was so used to living as I wanted to, on my own terms and now that's something I was missing. For once I didn't want to 'inform' anyone and to do what I wanted without being judged or something.' 'Well that's being plain irresponsible'. 'I left a note'. 'But....Ayush didn't complete the sentence. 'May I know where did you go then?' She said she had been to a movie. He stood baffled...picked up a cushion and threw at her with full force. Rest you can imagine...

Delusion

          Julia was sitting in the park. She had done an unusual thing today. She had cancelled all her appointments. She wanted an answer. An answer from herself. Not from him. It was getting crazier day by day. Perfectly normal days would get thrown out of gear everytime she was in his company. This was insanity. 'How can I get so emotional ?' she thought. This was not the first time....
                       She had met Ritchi (Richard) at Suzan's house. He was her cousin. It was the reapeated meetings with Suzan that she got acquainted with him more often. He was going steady, Suzan said. Julia couldn't care less. She had her own things she had to focus on. Life was good. One day at the party Ritchie hosted for his birthday, he did something that started all this 'feelings factory' as Julia liked to call that. He had invited her. She had come to like his unusual ideas about life, his child like enthusiasm on everything and he was likeable stuff. Plus he had a taste...'taste for the best in everything'. He could go to any length for example to get that perfect Brownie. So everyone consulted him when it came to food or getaways or just anything. Sometimes she felt he had the bug inside him that made him suggest 'the best' just about anything. He had read some of the things she wrote and liked them. He encouraged her too. One day on his birthday, when he had suggested to her about the best book to read, she was startled. 'I mean he could have suggested any book in the world but why this ?' Oh ! she loved books and to share the same book....Anyways he started talking about the protagonist and Julia wanted to stop him. He was very talkative and he went on airing his opinion. Sometimes whe wished he shut up. He wouldn't. He was cocky at times. Arrogant too. But he had the charisma to make people like him. She left the party disturbed. She had started to like him. She was afraid of herself. Days went by and she had met Elen his girlfriend too. Julia was surprised at his choice though.
                     She looked for the meaning of the word 'delusion'. Right. Believing things that were untrue with intensity that yes it is true. She had to stop herself from believing that she was in love with him and vice versa. She saw a squirrel struggling with a leaf. How simple life could be for this four legged-one tailed animal ? She couldn't do it i.e. stop herself from thinking about him. She had been busy last fifteen days thinking nothing but work work and work when she bumped into him yesterday and the mind started working overtime. How does one control emotions ? She was where she was because of her emotional involvement with her work. But he was all flesh and blood, not some abstract object. To get emotionally involved with him was not proving anything. She got up. She decided she would tell him she liked him. That's it. She called him.
'Hey Julia what's up ?' he asked. 'Nothing special Rich'. 'So what does our lady want to speak ?' 'You', she said. 'What ?' he asked. 'You. I love you. I had enough of this dilly dallying with myself Rich, I don't care what you think about me. I know you have Ellen but that doesn't change anything about what I feel about you.' There she felt so light as if she had the moral responsibility of saying those three words and she had done it. 'Julia, let's meet and talk.' He said. 'Wow' he didn't get upset or anything ! Wants to meet. What the heck ? I'll go prepared for his 'No'. All I wanted for him to know, I did. Rest doesn't matter. I'll take care. I can handle.' She was elated.

                        

No mind

tr...That state of delicious moment when thought ceases to exist. Calm, peace, tranquility. You get it when you close your eyes and concentrate on the bird's chatter or the sound of the breeze, waves.....Sometimes listening to the stillness around matters a lot-the calmness inside the four walls of your dwelling especially in the afternoon or the silence that accompanies night. The wide expanse of the beach...the endless stretch which overwhelms the impunity of the mind...thoughts. Who said,'we think so we are'? It should be 'we feel so we are'.

The Letter

                    ....I shall wait for him. Do I deserve him ? His companionship ? Or is it the other way round ? Whether he deserves me ? Our eyes have met, locked with no feelings, many times. The moments we looked into each other were not at all uncomfortable. Silence spoke many times. He appreciated me in the past. We communicated-verbally, and eye to eye. Each of us made the other feel 'special'. And to some extent. We could go beyond. We didn't which's fine. I have a world of my own, he has his. We do not communicate much. Not the way we used to. Reason ? I told him, I felt for him. Though he didn't recede, he didn' t come closer either. I know he cares. Oh ! how much I want him to care. Its strange.we share the same land, breathe the same air, we meet often but when we meet we are farther apart. Its in his absence I feel his presence strongly. In a way I like it when I am not with him. I can have him much closer, at my will. I know I am selfish. I want all of him. I'll wait when I shall have him for  moments. And they will be frequent. I shall live a happy life, a fulfilled life. A solace to know that he owns me and I own him, in a way which the cosmos knows. Him, me and eternity. No one exists here. Utopia, one might say or some will say you both will get bored of each other. No, we are very much with people but what we share, the special place we have for each other, exists in a sweet mysterious way, a conspiracy, the universe shares.Sometimes its enough to know that he exists. I meet him in his own beingness. He does not know how often I meet him. Its a beautiful secret that I share with me. Its pain many times but I have endured. I shall wait...
                           Shashank read the letter. It had accidentally fallen off from her purse. She was in the kitchen, chatting with his sister. He wondered who this 'he' might be. And just when she came out with the coffee tray, their eyes met...in eternity and he knew it was for him. He was in a dilemma. How could anyone feel so strongly, he thought. He had never wanted to marry. He liked her company. He thought she was beautiful too. But that's it. He had plenty of other things to do. His regular Tennis sessions, his pals, the weekend booze party, the paragliding lessons he  was taking, his job, his writings, music...he loved music, played guitar at times. And then movies. Where was the time for the emotion called love ? But the words in the letter sort of bound him to her.  And she would wait ? Heck ! He hated to hurt someone and specially her. What did she mean 'own..'. How can anyone own ? Well its her feelings. But why should that bother him ? She knew his kind. Still she felt !! He felt like drawing her close and explaining what he was. But he didn't. Yes, she can wait. And he had to wati too, till he was clear about what was happening. How much of what he felt, was he comfortable with, did he really need that ? Companionship ? Now ? No these questions had to wait. He had no answer. Meanwhile he noticed the loose strand of hair slip through her forehead and onto her eyes and when she looked again, yes, he didn't see any  overt feelings. And they talked as usual and parted an hour later. Her phone rang and when she said,'Yes darling ! I am on my way...', his heart skipped a beat. He almost stopped her and asked who it was. She didn't answer, just looked at him as if searching for something in the depth of his eyes. She found nothing and she parted. He said,' I shall wait...'.

Innocence....Men

                     Anchal's mom called her up. Oh ! no, not again, she thought. Her mom had this one topic ringing in her mind, her younger son was not married yet. He stayed  in Paris. Her mom and dad had screened hundreds of 'bio-data's', sent some of the photos to Rajeev, their son, who to their dismay always rejected. The girls they liked, Rajeev did not. Simple. So once again she asked Anchal what could be the reason. Her mom had gone to temples, asked the priests, astrologers about the 'problem'. Anxiety got the better of her day by day. Anchal was worried about her hypertensive mom. So she decided she would go to her Mom's place, stay there for a month, 'see' girls for her brother and then fix one and come back. Her brother was also coming down to India.
                         Rajeev was a charmer. He had many friends who were girls and who even frequented their home. But he never went steady with anyone. Everyone wondered why ? Her mom always thought one day he will announce he's marrying someone of his choice. But that never happened. So Anchal asked him,' What's the hitch bro ?' 'Arey, ghanti tho bajna chahiye na', he said.  When I see a girl, somewhere the bell must ring Anchal.  'Well, you know what Rajeev, there was this Electronics engineer girl who was good looking, worked under Sameer (her husband), stayed with us for a day as she missed her train. And then it was a regular affair as we gelled well and she had no airs about being an Engineer, having a good job. What's more, she was intelligent too. And innocent. said Anchal. Hey ! hey ! just a moment Anchal, where is she ? I would like to meet her. Well, said Anchal, she is a Bengali and I hate to say this, she got engaged recently. What Rajeev said about the kind of girl he was looking for, intrigued Anchal. For one he was a man of varied interests. He was handsome and girls usually fell for him some of whom he had dated too. And what was he looking for ? Innocence. He said, 'Yaar mujhey bholi bhali, seedhi saadhi ladki chahiye'.( I want a girl who is innoent, naive...)
                    That triggered a chain of thoughts and Anchal remembered the day she had started feeling something special between herself and Sameer. Now Sameer had said the same words. He liked her straightforward approach and honesty. What is it with men ? Why do they want the girl they marry or a long term relationship so as to say, to be untainted, pure, almost something angelic ? Like owning up an impeccable diamond..There..ownership.They want to own. And what they own should be flawless ?
Quote Amir Khan about Kiran Rao...I love her smile and eyes....I just love the kind of person she is...She has so much integrity and honesty, that it's lovely.'

The Morning Strot

                         I hurried down the road, calculating the minutes it would take me to reach the Institute where I had taken up a new teaching assignment, I had opted the public transport of bus and rickshaws as an excuse for not exercising regularly at home. You had to walk down to the bus stop or to take an auto. So it served the purpose plus you could enjoy the FM's or listen to your favorite music as you walked down. It was a bit early in the morning though but listening to songs added rhythm to the walk and some songs sometimes triggered a chain of thoughts.
                 '.........kaheen to milengi, baharon ki manzil rahee' played in one of the radio stations. It was good to hear the song after a long time, in Lata's melodious voice. Flawless and sweet, her voice suited the Morning mood. Well, there were a line of autos with the drivers busy reading newspapers. Some places, the people are just not bothered about business. As I explained to one of them where I needed to go, he directed me to the other who pointed to the third auto. Exasperated, I finally managed to get into one of them, which sped past the grocery shops, the owners just opening shutters, the muncipality staff cleaniing the road, the dust shining like gold bathed in the early morning sun rays. The road side tea stalls were just getting ready for the morning 'chai' public. Sometimes the usual routine things which you ignore or which you just pass through, not bothering to even look at, give a sense of normalcy, i.e. a feeling of 'Yes, everything is o.k.'. The expression on people's faces while they start their morning chores, sort of telling you that 'the day had started'. The clothesline (which otherwise was a mismatch at the backdrop of the posh apartments) looked very homely today with the clothes hanging out. The city might grow with fancy apartments and glossy buildings but the 'old city' buildings, homes, have their own charm as well. Somehow they, like our aging parents, assure us of 'not everything will change in this fast paced world, some things are there to stay', sort of giving a sense of stability. The things that age before you and grow old with you are sometimes like the 'Easy chair, where you lean against and rock in peace' at times. A stressbuster perhaps ?
                  

Hello !

                            'Hello !', shouted Nishita on the phone for the 3rd time, still no response. All the why's, how's where...surrounded her mind. Why wasn't he talking ? May be the lines were not working properly. She had sent lots of messages on the phone and mail as well. No response. Strange plight in this 'wired' world. You know someone is out there seconds away from responding but still they don't. Or they preferred not to. Its all the more frustrating. Not knowing the whereabouts  is one thing and bliss, she thought.
                     She sat down to introspect. There had been an arguement between them. Oh ! how much she missed him, Why didn't he understand ? Or may be like her friend said, he may not be interested...cool. Let him go to hell then, a voice said inside. Then she did the crazy thing of tearing the leaves of a twig that was lying nearby and murmuring 'He loves, he loves me not'. Hmm ! what an impact the Bollywood has ! Said another voice. She was sitting on the grass overlooking a stream that went through the campus. Bless the greenery in the University. It was peaceful, and romantic, one more voice added. Oh ! why can't the voices inside keep quiet ? She threw some stones in the water, watching the ripples they created. How far did the ripples go ? She thought of the time when Sahil had been furious about what she had said. They were arguing about a common friend's dilemma. The girl was a Muslim, the boy a Punjabi. Should they marry ? Should they live in ? Sahil got wild when Nishita suggested they should go for live in. She aired her views openely. She was different. Many people mistook her. Strangely that didn't bother her. She thought Sahil was unusual too. He wasn't like other guys i.e. at least he didn't sound like other guys when he spoke. There was something original about him and she wanted to believe what he said sometimes. So she was surprised about the way Sahil got up and said 'Let's stop this here'. Guys get old fashioned when the lady speaks out her mind !
                     Fine she thought, I am what I am. Let him come if he is o.k. with that otherwise, I better move forward. She had an offer to go to the U.S.  That was something she was looking forward to. She reached home to find the appointment letter and she felt she had touched the sky. She reached for her cell and dialled 'his' no. again. Dammit. She cut it off before the call could materialise. She was happy she was in control at least for the first time in her life. She won't call him she decided. The heart can be convinced yes. She put on her favorite music and started to pack stuff. The flight was for 15th Jan. A good New year start....

The Escape

                          Mythili started her day as usual : share a cup of coffee with the hubby, send off the kids to school with their 'tiffins' and 'water bottle'. Then the man of the house left. Enter the maid, share a cup of tea with her, before both of them resumed their work. She then left for the bank where she worked. The older of her kids was 11 and the younger one 8. Things were going on as they do in most normal so called 'happily married couples's life'. What was different today ?
                    She had been feeling like this from past one and a half years. She wanted something 'else'. What was it ? She hadn't been able to figure out. She had good friends with whom she could share everything under the earth. But still that hadn't really helped. She had told her husband also. He just told her,'It happens at times.. Don't worry, things will be alright' plus n number of suggestions, he had given her. Men and their solutions ! Can't they be better off in this area at least after John Gray's famous Mars/Venus book ? Well so she had herself to blame for this unusual what would you call it ? urge ? desire ? need ? want ? The urge to be free, the desire to do the irrational/absurd/go wild, the need to be recognised a bit more, the want of a meaningful life ? Well she wanted all of these and at times only some of these. But it was the last which she wanted most of all. Why all of a sudden this when she was supposed to be 'happy' in the conventional sense ? Sweety heard her and had a hearty laugh. She had suggested going on a long drive, with a couple of girls and have a blast. Which they did. My ! an awesome time they had giggling and laughing till their sides ached. Ya ! that had been wonderful.
                     But can't it be like that everyday ? Oh ! this thought was eating her up. For once she even thought of contacting a counsellor. She had googled a lot too. What did it say ? Middle age crisis ? She didn't know whether it was that but she desperately needed to find a solution. One morning while she was taking the regular walk in the garden near her house, the idea popped up. She thought of taking the 'all women' trip organised by some travel agencies much to the chagrin of her husband and kids. But she managed to convince them  and went for a heavenly fifteen days get away to a hill station and surroundings. The first few days were exhilarating to the spirit, the mountains, the fresh air, the birds, that bliss called life in various natural forms. But day 8 she started missing her folks back home. She felt a bit guilty of leaving them behind. Why this escape from the people she loved, she asked herself. She had no answers. The need to be alone, just be oneself was so overriding that she felt it was worth spending rest of the days nourishing her soul with what she liked to do most. No sin there.
                        She came back rejuvenated, perhaps for a while. There would be answers like these in future too.

The Trip abroad

                                  'Finally the tickets have arrived', thought Kim. She felt exhilarated as well as apprehensive about the trip she was goiing to commence next week, with her son. It was going to be her first International trip. She always had the little voices of doubt squeaking inside but which she always managed to overcome and come out a winner everytime in any situation. Her sister had told her a hundred times over the phone how to find her way out of Dubai International Airport if there was no aerobridge available. Her son had almost memorised that. So she made sure she noted everything in a small diary, She had shopped a bit for the travel. The flight was at 4 am on Monday. She returnce from work on Saturday to find her son not feeling well.
                                 Heck ! Now what she thought and took him to the doctor who of course prescribed medicines. Poor li'l chap she mused. He looked down as against the peppy look he should have had on his face as he was so excited ! Anyway, the D- day arrived. They were at the Mumbai international airport which was four hrs drive from the township they lived. They were there by 1.00 a.m. (3 hours before the departure, all internationsl flights, her son reminded). Though he wasn't his ususal self, he didn't much groan about the throat pain he was having. Then started the 'Q' ordeal of immigration check. She read the form she had to fill up. Keeping the bags on a side, ( no coolies here to have the luxury of someone carrying the luggage for you, how convenient train travel is, she thought). Her son started grumbling. He was tired of standing. She asked him to sit down. 'Where ? On the floor ?' he said, 'No, Mamma, I won't'. Oh ! god these kids !, she was feeling as it is jittery.  She said,' C'mmon baby please co-operate. Don't get on my nerves. Sit down on the floor. It's o.k.' She didn't like to tell him sit on the bare cold floor with the state he was in but no choice. The price to be paid for international travel. Why can't they keep some chairs here, she thought. So she continued with the queue and her son kept on walking/sitting moving side by side. The immigration form filled, she looked around to check what fellow 'quemates' were doing. One guy behind her was struggling to read the form. He appeared lost.So many out here can't understand English at all, she wondered. Since she had to kill time, she asked the guy if she could help him and he like a core Martian replied 'No'. She said. 'O.K.' and once again pondered over 'Men mentality' ! After five minutes, the guy asked her if she could fill the 'Ration card form'. She told him, it was an immigation form and explained its purpose. To her horror, she found, he was bound for Riyadh and had to go en-route Dubai, but he had ticket only till Dubai. She asked him and he said he was going to take up a job in Riyadh and an agent had arranged. Meanwhile her turn came for the Immigration check and she guided him to approach the help desk. She was asked to go through ...6. She only partly heard that but instead of clarifying, went ahead in the line. She asked her son where the numeral 6 was. She couldn't find any sign board up. He said,' Mom, look down on the floor there'. And there it was 6 written within a circle on the floor. Children can be so useful at times, she thought. Moreover, her son was sitting on the floor. Well they were out through the gate and into the Boeing 747 of Emirates and her son was an altogether a transformed personaliy. He got busy checking the T.V. found that he could log in and stuff and very happily chatted with the Air hostess, tied the seat belt as if he was an Emirates regular. Hey ! Nick, few hours before you were a sorry face and what happened now ? The joy written all over his face, wiped off whatever nervousness she was having and he said,' Mom ! I am hungry. When do they serve us breakfast ?' Boys will always be hungry ! She laughed at his question and sat down relaxed with her son at the window. Nick wanted her to shop online on board. She said no.
                                 Well the flight took off and the food served was good. Nick was elated about the information on the TV screen about the height they were flying at. He chatted non stop and she wondered where all his throat pain had vanished. Anyway he was happy and she felt at peace. The giant started descending and she looked out of the window apprehensively ( she was scared of heights ) and saw multitude of twinkling lights. Dubai was waking up to yet another morning and she was touching a foreign ground first time. Wasn't it a special feeling ? They got into the bus after alighting and her son held her hand when it stopped for the transit passengers to get down. 'Remember, what Maasi told not to get down at the first stop, the bus takes ?'. Well they reached the gate and the 'Marhaba' service was really good. You need to pay extra and you are escorted out by a staff who does all the paper work,  issues the visa and leaves you right where your folks have come to pick you up. No hassels. She almost ran on seeing her dad and sister.
                             Everything looked beautiful and clean. The Sheikh Zayed rd, the Marina, the Burj Al Arab, the various cornishes, the gold souk, the Crown plaza, geysers at Al Ain and most of all the Desert Safari apart from the various malls to shop around. Her son enjoyed the Ski Dubai the most. She wanted to stay back forever. Now that the Burj Khaleefa was ready, as she reminisced about her last trip, she wanted to make one more trip to see the giant.

I am...

                        Siddarth Bakshi, said the person next to me, while introducing himself at a conference hosted by the University where I worked as an Associate Professor. 'And I am Sneha Menon', I said shaking his hand. He was the Director of a Pharma major, 'The Global Med'. The conferences were a kind of respite for us, to mingle with people, some of them interesting and some of them very serious like the research papers they presented. Well free food throughout the 3-4 days or a week if it was an International Symposium, with nothing to do but to look important by pinning the VIP badges, supervising certain things and best of all breathe tons of fresh campus air instead of the classroom-air circulated by generations old ceiling fans that had yellow blades. The students also looked sharp, well dressed and behaviour at their best, scurrying here and there, ever ready to be of help to any of us, eager to do what was said as compared to the submission of Assignments on time. For once we were all comrades all set to welcome our guests, make them feel at home in the academically charged environment.
                Well, Siddarth was saying something like, '..........Its a Hirani-Abhijit Joshi film...no questions....' and I came out of my reverie.
Me- What did you say Siddarth ?
S- I was talking about the famous '3 idiots'...Its only 5 % of Bhagat's '5 poing someone'.
Me- Well, I disagree. I have read it. I watched the film too but sorry, I didn't find anything new in what I saw. It was as if the book was being picturised with bits of Hindi cinema gimmicks thrown in.
S- Hey ! do you know what goes into writing a script, creating the scenes, directing it etc. ? In fact Hirani had the idea  earlier in his mind. So '5 point..' provided nothing but the typical college campus episodes.
Me- Well, I don't deny the efforts put in by script writer-director etc. but for me who watched the movie, I would say the book does have a major influence on the film. In fact you feel the spirit of '5 point someone'.
S-That's what happens when one reads the book and then sees the movie. See how much you have been influenced by the book.
Me- Excuse me ! I thoroughly enjoyed the book while I read (except for the four letter word used generously throughout the book as if to give an 'Angrezi' appeal, wonder if that is a hallmark of IIT-IIM students ? ). And who but a student in the campus can give the real account of what happens in the psyche of a hosteler in the Technological institutes. Its easy to write a script once the nitty gritty is there...
                    And it went on. I mean the discussion. While Siddarth stuck to logistics, I couldn't bring myself to neglect between the juicy entertainment the book supplied while reading and the same episodes being shown in 3 dimensions. I mean I think I ought to see the movie one more time in order to appreciate the film in terms of direction etc. Chatur and Phunsuk Wangdu are Hirani's wonderful creations. However one feels the essence of '5 pt someone' while watching the film.
                   

That something...

called 'Pain'. Am not talking about the physical pain, it has to be endured or relieved with man made stuff. The pain that happens to the psyche...hits the core...Victor Frankl says that gives meaning to life. Somehow I strongly want to disagree but that's the truth I have to affirm. I had this notion that life was all about 'Being Happy' all the time or at least most of the time. But 'Pain' teaches many things...the journey from 'not having' to attaining...having finally, and then to feel satisfied. One has to keep his cup empty or near empty if he 'craves' 'something'. And pain does that I guess i.e. makes one's cup empty so that the need gets created once again. The Need, the desire is beautiful. It gives meaning to life...Its not strife that counts but the steps taken during the process, the baby steps is what matters.