May 13th

It was a night of untamed emotions. High melancholy was the temperature, I remember. Several attempts to sleep had failed me and so had the amount of alcohol I had consumed. After rolling over to each side of the bed(what seemed like a few million times), I woke up. Sizing up one's own bed is not very enthralling! What else is Facebook for, if not for times like these? I was convinced that it was the last resort. I reached out for my laptop like the last artillery in my arsenal. Scrolling down the page unheedingly, I looked at the green dot aside a name. What must she be doing so late at night, my mind had enquired. The delirious one didn’t stop there and the next thing I remember, my hands getting intimate with the keyboard. Hi’s and hellos were thrown at each other and what followed was probably the profound desire to rest my case for good. All that was wrong finally made sense. May 13th it was!

The trade!

Imaginary friends and a kaleidoscope

Twisted thoughts and the fear of hope

Shadows; they stay till the end

Never heard of silence, no ears to lend

The calculus of smothering, un-ending reasons

Wait till it finds you, another treason

Trade your love for all their wishes

Lovers are stranger than all the strangers

Peace is on holiday

Swamping thoughts at play

One day, someday you have to know

All you want has to go!

वो आँखें

उन आँखों में थे शायद ख्वाब मेरे 

सवाल थे उसके, थे जवाब मेरे

होठों से लिपट रहा था जो लाल रंग

सिमट गए उन में सब शाम-सवेरे 

पहन लूँ कभी उन बालों का आँचल 

झुमकों ने है ये  मुझसे कहा 

गले का धागा बाँध रहा है 

जन्मों के रिश्ते तेरे-मेरे

जाने कहाँ छिपा है वो तिल

मिट जाते हैं जिस से अँधेरे 

जंचते तो हैं वो हर रंग में 

हर रंग की किस्मत बदल गयी 

देखता रहता हूँ  उनको घंटों 

हर लम्हे की बात बदल गयी!

When it rains, It pours!

I don’t know if I attract trouble or ‘it’ inadvertently makes it a point to visit me on days I would really appreciate its absence. It’s been raining in Mumbai. It’s always raining in Mumbai! Yet, the last couple of days have seen a torrential downpour. I had to travel to Pune and be here early in the morning today. So, for the first time in my life, I diligently planned my travel and even got my bag packed a day before I had to travel. This was Saturday. For the benefit of those who do not know me, I dig the last-minute-chaos in everything I do. Sunday arrives and I am woken up to a strong disapproval by my sister about this travel. From the possibility of a landslide to chances of getting drowned in the Mumbai flood and to the extent that the bus carrying me could possibly topple over and fall into the valley, my hopes of getting out of the house were crumbled like toilet-paper. My fears were beginning to find the light of the day now. My phone alias Black beauty has been acting promiscuously for the last one year, more so, the last few months. She ditches me at times I would need her the most and I knew her alarm will fail me. No surprises it did, Black Beauty cheated on me again!

Even the back-up alarm did. See, I tried playing safe but c’est la vie! There goes half a grand down one of the many Mumbai drains. Its chaos time and my mother has gone into a frenzy which is typically characteristic of all  mothers. Mom is a compulsive worrier and I knew it was time for some serious damage-control. After somehow convincing her that I had until afternoon to reach, I looked up the internet for the next bus I could board. It’s raining cats, dogs and disappointments for me. Its 7 in the morning and the next bus with the shortest route is at 11. A three-hour journey that would avoid the detour of going around the city seemed to my very skeptical mind, the best plan-of-action! Outside, the pretentious rain had not stopped though it looked like it had sobered down since last night. The only saving grace to this catastrophic morning was the fact that I could spend my usual half an hour in the washroom. Old habits die hard but this one, in all earnestness, I doubt. So, I am ready by 9 hoping to leave by 10 but mom had other plans. She decides to throw me out of the house with a sincerity that I had never encountered from her before. “Go there and wait, I don’t want you to miss this bus”, she repeated at least half a dozen times to get me going. I left at 9.30 and the 1 kilometre stretch to the boarding point took almost an hour. By now, I had already thanked my sweet-natured mother a thousand times in my heart. A Thirty-minute wait and off I’d be. God seemed to be looking out for me. A slight drizzle and a horde of people waiting for their rides but next to me was this peculiar-looking guy. For starters, he was wearing his bag in the front which bulged disproportionately. Had he spoken any louder, it would have woken Lord Shiva from his state of ‘Samadhi’ and lastly he taught me a lesson I would never forget for life. And that is, never make eye contact with a person who loves eating a banana. The drizzle turned into a shower but had I come prepared. Faces changed, the rain got fierce and the sky got murkier in the next hour or so. The Maharashtra state transport service does not have a dedicated support-line for its passengers. Meanwhile, I see a bus approaching with the MSRTC sign on its windshield and it looked like the time for my woes to end is arriving alongside it! Well, it zoomed past me like an angry ex-girlfriend who wouldn’t want to see your face. I have had my share of heartaches but this was devastating. When it rains, it pours!

 After having called three different numbers, I had finally managed to get their much treasured passenger-support line which was constantly busy. Twenty minutes later when someone answered, Black Beauty jumped into action, the screen froze and the call got dropped. My sister had earlier told me that I sound like a robot calling from that phone. Another 15 minutes later I was talking to their guy who told me that the bus was late and it would be there, a little late maybea. In other circumstances I would have called it a minor relief but not today. My shoes were completely soaked and I guess today I literally had, what they call ‘A Cold Feet’. I was mysteriously drenched in patches all over my body, the details of which I choose not to get into. Two hours and 15 minutes from the time I had arrived, arrived my bus. The doors opened and I board it to see a policeman driving the bus. Sporting a black aviator, neatly combed hair and a properly trimmed moustache, indeed this guy was a ‘Bhai fan’.
The bus had a lady conductor who had the most benign smile I had seen in my life. Even before I could settle my luggage, she fired at me a few hundred questions or so it seemed, in Marathi. All I could mutter was ‘Hindi’. I think she went the extra mile translating her questions to 'Hindi' because most of them were irrelevant. The last legitimate question that she asked me was if I had my I.D on me and then politely suggested to keep it inside while I reached for my wallet. The highway was jam-packed and it was not long before our Dabbang driver hit a bike. And so the brawl began, with an old uncle deciding to poke his unusually long nose in this matter. By the time this old man realized that the driver was not actually a Policeman but a Salman Khan impersonator, his volume had gone significantly up. The ever-smiling conductor saved the day for us in the end. The scuffle behind us now, we were almost out of the city and that’s exactly when our driver decided, that the passengers deserved some entertainment. And now it was raining the choicest of sad songs one could excavate from our planet. ‘Why did you break my heart, why did we fall in love, why did you go away?’ were some of the questions Mr. Anu Malik was seriously posing at us. What else had you expected when you sing like that Mr. Malik? The quality of the songs kept getting worse and I guess all of us in the bus, silently yet unanimously decided that something had to be done. So I looked around and not so surprisingly found, that most of us had our earphones plugged in by now. Things were inordinately beautiful on the expressway with the clouds giving us company, the occasional sight of waterfalls and the lush greenery of the mountains. We stopped for a bite and everything started to feel a lot better after taking a leak. Had been holding it for 5 hours. The songs were typically from the 90’s when we resumed the journey and I wasn’t complaining anymore. Tumsa koi pyara koi masoom nahi hai, Saanwli Saloni teri jheel si aankhein, Tumhe apna banana ki kasam, Kuch kuch hota hai and the songs kept getting better. This ‘Bhai-fan’ was making up for the torture he had put us through earlier. The conductor had not stopped smiling and by now my jaws had started to ache from all the smiles I had had to reciprocate! I decided not to look at her at all until we had almost reached Pune and that's when I asked her where I should get down. The lady started to talk in Marathi again. Bummer!
I think she had the driver, herself and me pretty confused by now and so I was dropped at a location far from where I should have been. I was rudely greeted by an auto-wallah who did not seem to like me much but wanted me to definitely take his services. So after checking the Uber app which acknowledged that I could only get a ride after 10 mins, I hopped into his auto to be ripped off one last time today. 6.45 pm is when I got home. Pulled out my laptop to see it has died on me. Charging didn’t help. All I hope now is that tomorrow, it does not rain!

P.S. – Pune feels like home, Pune feels like many things.

एक रात की बात

एक अजीब सी दास्तां है ये 
ये किसका आसमान है ये 
टिम-टिमाते हैं तारे यहाँ 
चाँद क्यों परेशान है ये 
ढूंढ़ता है कोई खुद को कहीं 
दुनिया उसकी कभी थी ही नहीं
अरमानों के पुल जलाके
शायद बचे निशान कहीं
रात का समुन्दर ले आता है
जाने कैसे-कैसे याद कई
तैर चलो तुम बादलों पर
मिल जाए शायद वो फिर वहीँ
गूंजता सा है कुछ पहाड़ों में
उसकी आवाज़ फिर है नयी
भूलता भी तो कैसे मैं
थामा था उसने यहीं !

Mirrors for then and now

I must have had an exaggerated influence on musicians. They’ve made songs for all my moods!

Life has strictly been designed for discomfort, deal with pleasure.

Each time I fell in love, it seemed like the last time. The last time I did, it was the first time!

The beauty of each lie is its discerning nature.

I have stopped drinking again. Again, everyday!

If there’s a thing I cannot resist, it’s the lure of the mountains.

You know that you are a part of each of  my random musings. Don’t you?

I had written myself off a long time ago. This is re-writing!

Every woman is a song. A sad one!

I made peace with my losses. Now I have lost them.

It is all a well-fabricated conspiracy. You are always the perpetrator!

Liars and lovers. Such a thin line!

Tell me not to do it and it shall be done!

The trouble I may have always had, could be this mind.

I said I would always love her. She thought I would always ‘be in love’ with her!

I had many friends. Now I know a lot of people.

I don’t know if I’ve turned my back on temptations or they turned their backs on me.

There must be 2 kinds of people. People who carry their lives. People who are carried by their lives. I am the third kind.

It's insulting to be called knowledgeable. Heaps of information being confounded for intelligence!

There’s always this staggering amount of well-wishers who don’t wish you well.

The time for divine-sycophancy seems ripe!

By the way, I see through you, I always did.

Will this continue? Let's see!

Such is Life

It's been a month and eleven days since papa left us. Like most children who grow up believing that their fathers are invincible, I was not any different. But that had changed over the last few years. He had been sick and his pain was chronic. While I had begun to appreciate the truth about mortality and the fact that he was perhaps not invincible, I held on to the ‘Hero-status’ that he had earned since the day I was born. Truth is, I wish I could have told him how much I admired him while he was here. I have always known, that I love him more than I would ever love anyone, but never could tell him that in person.

Such is life!

The first time he went into ICU, I couldn't sleep for days and I wouldn’t weep. The doctors said they could either save one of his legs or his life. It seemed like a tough call  initially but we were never in doubt that we wanted ‘him’ for us. They managed to save both, but at the cost of his mobility. I remember how after he had been shifted to the ward from ICU, I was staying with him for the night to look after him. He hadn't been conscious and I sat by him holding his hands. It was the first time I kissed his forehead and said ‘I love you Papa’. Tears rolled and my breathing was choked. As whimsical as it may sound, I think he heard me that night. I think he knew it all along but never said a thing.

Such is Life!

Papa got well but his struggle was apparent. It took months before he could start walking again but it all seemed worthwhile. It was still painful to see such an independent and free-spirited person had lost his self-confidence. Life wasn’t easy for him as he was hospitalized again just after 4 months of being discharged the first time. Back to the ICU fighting for his life. And he put on quite a fight and got out. So often, when we know we might lose someone, we finally realize their significance, the importance of having them around us. That was never the case with me, though. The thought of losing papa had given me sleepless nights much before he was sick. Yet I lived, selfishly, in my own little world of petty troubles and ephemeral happiness. Putting up with all my demands and wishes came naturally to him. He never complained. While the inevitable stared me in the eyes, I chose ignorance.

Such is Life!

I never really could have a hearty conversation with Papa. While I knew, that he knew everything about me, he never really sat me down to discuss the happenings in my life. He was aware of my self-inflicted troubles and in his own way comforted me. I never really had to ask for anything from him. I did whatever I had to and  would tell him about it if I felt like, or if he had found out. He wanted me to change. Told people he was worried about me and yet never stopped me. I think all he wanted for me, was to be happy. Admittedly, I know he was a partner in all my crimes. The one who silently let me be myself. He was my best friend. We had our share of fights too, but very little and very seldom was something said. There were times he wanted me to spend a little more time with him and Mumma. But I had figured for myself that I’d rather be alone. He hated seeing me like that but I was too lost to notice that back then. My best friend is now gone and I wish, we had had more conversations.

Such is life!

Papa somehow never really judged me. He was a kind-hearted, loving person who loved to help people. A family man, who strongly believed that the family should eat together. Something I never gave him! As caring and loving he was, a lot of people took advantage of his simplicity. He was vulnerable when he saw people suffering. This was something that infuriated me very often. Sometimes making me judge him too. I believe, out of everything he has left behind for me, this is his greatest legacy. The night before he passed away, he called me to massage his legs and back. He was in acute pain. I sat down massaging him for some time and felt heavenly bliss while doing so. He used to call out for me all the time. Called me ‘bauaa’! When I was younger this seemed like a ritual each day when I would massage papa's legs for hours and finally slither away as I watched him sleep. That night I didn't feel like giving up but he said ‘ho gaya bauaa’ and now he won't call out for me ever again.

Such is life!

Shipwreck

It’s a ship!
Swayed by the oceans
Waiting to drown
It sails on

Upside down
There’s the shore
The battle cry
They will survive
That is a lie

Profound courage
Before the wreckage
The mast is lost
Hold on tight
Wait and fight
The end is always near!
 

The known stranger

Another night of being wasted
Another day of life tasted
Those eyes are the sedatives
I miss them like I miss myself
They shine like diamonds

But I can't afford them

The tragedy of losing
All so ever imposing

Having lived so many lives with her

I shall conclude she is without me better

That voice has touched my soul

Made me complete, made me whole
She loves me, but she can't say

But the love is not lost any day

And now all I believe I am

A manifestation of  emptiness

A stranger between all of them

The etheric nuances of me she still knows
She will be quiet and my head bows!