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'.