Just be

It had to happen
  some day
and it did now,
I love you,
the way I loved no other,
(I sometimes wonder how)

Knowing your love for me
does not, may not,
be long lasting,
Easily breakable
by the fancies
Of the world you live in.

This time
I don't want commitments,
I don't want permanances
I don't want honesty either,
Nor do I greedily
want all the glances.

I don't want
shared meetings,
Nor do i want shared time,
I do not want
to play the games
Mind games
that were previously so mine.

You are a natural,
and perhaps
that has rubbed on me,
If at all, I want something,
It's this, I want us to just be.

A letter posted

This time,
I have put the right address
on the  letter written long ago
and posted it too,
I have  put the ball in your esteemed court now,
handed you the power to hurt me,
advertently or inadvertently,
for I have decided
to take my life in my hands
to finally face the
the fear of a long uncertain wait
or no reply at all..

I have decided to grow!

When Harry met Sejal

So how do you manage to create a love story with a heavy duty self professed womaniser boy, and a wet behind ears about sex, and engaged and about to be married girl?

Answer is When Harry met Sally, sorry  gijjuben Sejal.

Bollywood had moved forward somewhat, in the sense, that if Mere jeevan sathi of the ever popular 'o mere dil ke chain' showed the hero as a womaniser but also secretly had to do  loads of charity by the side, in order to come across as eligible in order  to win the heroine's heart,  our current Harry hero no  longer requires such cheap props.

He is clear about his sex addict status, (though may not be too happy about it and that too, only because the image hurts his career prospects badly).

It's not clear why Sejal opted to tour the whole of Europe with the self proclaimed 'pervert', except for some vague last liners from Sharukh 'you were not searching for your ring, you were searching for me' mush crap,

And it is also not clear why the movie tries to sell monogamy, when the hero  so clearly  is not!

Imtihaz Ali, as usual, creates interesting characterisations, but the stories end up in typical lame tame Bollywood territory.

It does however raise  the still interesting (has been first raised in DDLJ) question as to why would anybody in his right mind opt for an 'untried untested sexual arena' marriage, when everybody knows it is an important component of any long term relationship.

Anushka plays  the girl who plays the curious girl who wants to know the exact price of womanhood,  and it must be admitted, that  after all these years still manages to retain most of her freshness

while

SRK seems to be heavily stuck in middle age angst, because he can no longer play the head in clouds optmistic about love  teenager, and has to undertake  the heavy task of a polyamoriser selling monogamy, which he has not been able to do too well.

The ending between the loverboy and sweet gal seems contrived.

Finally the initial song tells it all..

I am stuck in a forever  journey,

which is how the movie should have  ended in my humble opinion.

Memories

One of my most cherished memory has to be the one month vacation we had when I was about nine, in May, 1975, to my native place in a small village in Kerala.

We are are Mumbai based and for some reason, we siblings had never been to Kerala or to my grandparents place before that. So it was my very first visit to a village.

As far as I was concerned i was reluctant to go initially, because it would mean losing out on play time with regular city friends.

But once I got into the train to Kerala, the magic began to play!

What more could a child of eight, with an over active imagination ask for, than a tiny house on chugging wheels, for 36 hours almost non stop, how so ever meagre it was. A house that gently rocked you while you ate and slept!

My dad was a strict person, so normally we were these ever obedient children, never upto any intentional mischief, and this journey was sans dad, so we suddenly learned the wonders of instant freedom from his brand of hard discipline.

Once we reached quaint not so symetrical home, I was blown at the huge size of the house my grandparents lived in, compared to our small apartment in ever crowded Mumbai. The highlight was a particular room which had walls on all four sides.

Then, one by one, further magic began to unfold!

The grandparents had hens, along with a tiny but proper hen house, perched high up out of reach of wolves, which laid eggs daily, and it was with a huge sense of wonder that I handled those tiny things when granny let me help her collect them each day.

They had a goat, who simply loved greedily eating the hibiscous flowers in the courtyard, they had cows which gave milk, and who I tried to milk, and which lived in a quaint shed close by, and one day one of them gave birth to a calf, right there in front of my wonderous eyes! Trying to milk then was fun.

The coconut trees which gave tender coconuts, the mango trees which gave mangoes, like wise the jackfruit trees, and the cashewnut trees, and the chilly shrubs and and colourful flowers so on and so forth. And best of all, the whole thing was free! No buying anything.

The first day, evening time, it was getting dark and I ask granny, where are switches to the light? And Grandma grinned. Come I'll show you, and she began lighting one lamp after another! It was playing with fire..rather the flame! another no no in dad's Mumbai!

Same with taps. No water taps. All water came from the well outside the house. Trying my hand at drawing water was one interesting routine.

Their toothpaste was charcoal, their tongue cleaner was the stick part of the coconut leaf. They used jackfruit leaf neatly folded in a particular fashion to drink their rice gruel.

And imagine my secret delight, when I knew my feet needn't use sandals to walk around even to distances fairly far enough to be covered by local buses, because people didn't usually wear footwear in those days, except for very special occasions.

In those days they did not have a bathroom and instead bathed in the house pond, and deficated in the near open. Even this to my childish mind was nothing less than pure freedom!

Then there was the village temple festival, where we saw elephants and elephants all decked up granderously.

And last but not the least, of how they would not keep stuff Indoors or strictly lock the doors before settling for the day. And that too it was more to avoid animals like snakes, than any fear of theives and robbers.

For me it was all about unadulterated freedom from all kinds of disciplined tyranny, including parental, mental, physical, school teachers, tirany of a city life, and when villages in Kerala had still not lost the art of being close to nature, and simple living!

It was my very own Alice in Wonderland month!

Exuberance

Today as i take my daily walk to the station,  and reach a  short cut, consisting of a narrow lane, so narrow, that only one person can comfortably pass through, I see  this young pre primary school girl, yellow blazer, smart light blue denim knee length skirt, hair neatly pony tied, both sides, and an umbrella doubling like a walking stick, with her grandfather.

She is a bit ahead of her grandfather, I cut cross her grandfather, and want to pass her too, but she quickly quickens her steps.

She is tapping the umbrella, and humming a tune, even as she is doggedly keeping ahead.

I love it that she is totally awake, ( unlike some sleepy weepy kids I've seen, other times), and somewhere where the lane ends, she turns back to her grandfather..dadduu, you are slow.

I am old, he mutters.

I am grown up now, she says!.

Reminds me of me at her age, a person raring to go!

I wonder how long will they let her be this wonderful person.

Before they try and  eventually manage to pull down her natural exuberance with those million rules. As though no person has a right to be happy going to school.

Or like my bosses reaction at my exuberance on my first job..office is not a picnic, just get that! He had exasperatedly said. (You are not supposed to be happy working, dammit..).

Marriage should  mean responsibilities, not fun, running to and fro to Kerala, every two months...... This my mom.

Though I would have loved to walk three steps behind the girl, till she reached her school, I have a deadline to keep, so edge past her ahead, after mentally saluting her spiritedness.

On giving birth

It really started on 17th, at about 11.30, after all around had settled for the night .

But inexperience made me think it was indigestion, By 3 am, I was worried it was the thing..

My sister who woke up , to see me agonising says..., oh poor you, didn't you sleep? .Wait, il call mom.

Mom had an anticipatory smile, yeah..It's time she says.

My fast asleep bro, irritated, to be awakened so early, cries, of course not, it can't be time, don't be silly ..Let a guy sleep for God's sake.

Dad's away on work,  hubby at his place, so neighbouring uncle steps in, and off we all go, to the hospital, as precision planned.

A small hitch....  my regular doctor is on vacation.
Oooops, its a  male doctor who walks in.

But at least, he looks nice and comforting..I'm shivering with cold,( the huge matron scared me into keeping the fan on, after I had switched it off twice..Who is switching off the fan, she had roared, while I had pretended not to hear).
Right now all I  want is it off..Badly ..Very badly...If only somebody stood up for me and switched it off, right into the matrons face, I would be fine,  I think..

My new doc, asks me what's wrong..I'm cold, I whimper,  and she won't let me switch off the fan.

She is stupid, don't mind her, he says brightly, switching off the fan for me.

I am glad..I have my saviour..Now nothing can go wrong, I decide.

Three or maybe five hours later I'm not so sure..The struggle is just not ending..I remember the pact me and hubby had...If it's a boy, we opt for another, or we stop at one.

To hell, I  decide unilaterally, boy or girl, this is the last!......I'm through with making babies for a life time.

As if on cue, the imp  pops out, victorious!

The waiting

Waiting.

Is it about me,
when it's about you,
or about you,
when about you,
or is it about only me always,
while I wait,
and wait for you?

The adult knows
it has to  wait, patiently,
saddened or not,
while the child waits
Isolated, lonely, fearful
the wait may last not too long,
or long enough, or forever,

Or maybe
just about until the child finally  stops waiting.

Steel

You claim
to love me,
And I know
you do
In your own way..

But your love
is vast, huge
like the skies
its bends benevolently
towards many.

Me small in stature,
Can't gauge the depth
Of  your unbridled love,
So Ive decided,
I rather walk alone
than  be a tiny speck
in your motley crowd,
The steel in my heart
has finally  made up it's mind.

A paper boat in the rain

You are this paper boat,
I set sail
on the tepid waters,
I so want  you to
sail far far away..

And you
as it is always meant to be,
drench,
struggle
weight heavy
and drown,
while
the child in me,
looks for another paper boat to sail!

Silence

I had to admit, to myself,  that talking is overrated,  after being lodged  in a no talk zone at a Vipassana centre at Gaya Bihar,  for almost ten days and nights , with total  strangers.

For a person who has always believed that communication was the corner stone of any social interaction, and happiness and pease and calm and all such stuff,  between two or more homo sapiens, it was during those days I realised during those days, how  unimportant verbal and non verbal chatter actually is.

After four days or so, the advantages started  becoming more and more apparent.

The very first advantage being tiny little noises by the various birds and insects, which is usually lost in city din, become  clearly audible.

But more importantly, the  advantage of conservation of  daily energy. Since you don't talk, your mind is relatively clutter free, it needs to address very little of the unnecessary regular stuff you otherwise have to deal with, on a daily basis.

Like there was this woman who kept cleaning her rooms at night.  If it was a regular place, I think I might have asked her to stop the din, perhaps sharply,  and she might have said something back  and then it would have been a rather free for all after that. But since 'no talk',  I slept through the din, and by morning it was not even important.

Or the  other stranger  woman, who tried to make uncalled for, eye contact,  and for a while, I was angry with her, till, I realised she had some genuine serious issues, after which I was glad, that the no talk rule saved me from having created some unnecessary negative vibe.

In the retreat, the system of asking the inmates, to assemble in the meditation hall,  was by ringing tiny bells, at appointed hours.

It was such a pleasure to watch the inmates silently troop into the meditation hall, one by one, whenever the tiny bell beconed.

The first ring, and people would  start starting trooping from their respective solitary rooms.nobody taking care of the other, but every body taking care of themselves very easily.
It was like watching tiny ants going their respective ways in organised slow motion.

It was so invigorating, that I am tempted to propose that cities have silent zone parks or retreats too, where the only rule is silence.

Vipassana

My 10 day Vipassana impressions.

Though I had been toying with the  Dammagiri's 10 day course for almost 20 years it's only now in 2017 that I finally got to doing it.

I had heard a lot about how people lost weight in ten days,  and became totally​ better people' after the ten days.

My prime worry was not as much about the the solitary cell,  ten day vow of silence,  the lack of dinner, or the 9.30 pm lights off, as much as the  pain in the knees and shoulders, which had been a constant companion for quite some years now, and my sleep needs which is a cool anything between 7 to 9 hours daily.

I had also read Ashwin s note about how the first three days were tough. In that sense I was fortified. I was pre warned that I had to survive only the first three days and the rest would be easy.

Day one 1 wake up call at 4 am was  the most difficult, so much so, that I woke up, and fell asleep right back on the bed, till I was discovered sleeping,  by a wide  eyed young sevika (helper), who asked me in a serious voice  if I had any dikat( problem) going to the common meditation hall, like the others.

Bit my tongue on that one!

Day one was all about watching my natural breath, eyes closed, for almost ten hours.As expected, the shoulder blades the upper  back and the knees gave away within 15 minutes, and I was mostly shifting my posture, to least painful positions, for the whole day.

Best part for me was the one hour 'Damma' talks, discourse given by the Indian  founder Shri Goenka, because it gave almost all clarifications regarding doubts  that had been in my head.

Day two about watching the incoming and outgoing breathe, which is basically an extension of the first day meditation.
By now I had started noticing small small things about the others who were taking the course

. Like there was this bunch of young student girls, from Darjeeling, who had decided that the wow of silence was not for them. They were like little  restless monkeys all over the space, much to the annoyance of many. Their youthfulness however  made me grin. 

Then there was the lady by my side room, who seemed to an OCDer, and cleaning her room loudly at 2 in the night for at least 20 minutes at a stretch. She even sobbed the second day.

And then  there was this another woman, who somehow threatened my space, when she tried to make naughty eye contact with me on the first day, let's break rules kind, which had offended me terribly then. ( Later transpires, she had issues, she could not sit still for more than ten minutes ever, and kept running away from the meditation hall always)

By day three for the first time, I started  felling that  most women in the course,  were odd nuts, and a wee bit crazy in the  head, and it almost made me wonder whether I was in a totally wrong place.

Third night however was the oddest. I woke up at 11.30 pm ( the terrible back pain made me settle in bed immediately at 9 pm sharp)   to the loud blaring chanting of Shri Goeinka, and when I looked across the room, I kept seeing 'sabja' kind bubbles.

This time ,I got scared..what kind of racket have I got myself into? And I am not allowed to talk about it too... I wondered as I shut my eyes,  forcing myself to sleep over the din.

Fourth day meditation, for me, hit a plateau as I kept seeing colours the minute I shut my eyes..blues and yellows and whites smoothly effortlessly flowing blending Into each other in a continious stream)
For the first time, the finger pointed back and I wondered if I wasnt the stark raving mad person here esp after the previous night thingy.

However, the lady teacher didn't make much of it. She  told to open my eyes if it happened again.

Immediately after that, though I started seeing Nalanda Ruins in it's full glory ( I didn't tell the teacher that though). As I knew the solution..
open the eyes!

By the fifth day a wonder started happening. My back no longer hurt as much; neither my knees, and surprisingly,  it was an almost a 90 percent improvement. And then I realised what Goeinka kept chanting..

Anicha anicha. (Everything is impermanent) and the pain suddenly became something interesting thing to watch.

After that I went from strength to strength, and the whole thing started making sense.

My lasting impressions?

Meditation works for me too... ( I always thot I was not the meditative kind), I hoped it had unknowingly made some personality changes in me for the better.

Most of all I was convinced of the selfless ness of the organisation.

And not to mention the interesting people I interacted with on the 10 day, which included a sweet yoga teacher, Vanessa from Switzerland( she was kind enough to teach me how to braid my hair in a particular fashion) a sweet French woman also named Vanessa, who again was more an Indian by heart, than I was..she was living in Puri for seven months now, could speak Hindi well enough, and wore salwar kameezes like a native.

And those sweet naughty girls from Siliguri, one girl Rinci in particular with her Gundi like walk and steady stare back in the eye, when I had stared at her one day.

And Pepsi girl Madhura and the Vietnamese nuns who smiled for communication.

Most of all, among the good parts are those  wonderful memories of those 10 Bodh Gaya days....

Would I want to do it again? Sure.

Would I want to become a sevika? Yes I think.

Tamasha

Tamasha' ...

Removal of .the mask.

I finally catch up with Imtiaz Ali's Tamasha,  on television.

To me at least, It speaks of how innate dogged  non compromising honesty of one person,(Deepika)  shows another person(Ranbir) the right way.

A very careless young single gal, who dares to lose her passport in a strange land, is helped by an equally strange single lad.

The lad is strange, because he is not playing any pre conceived role. He has no mask. It automatically frees her of any possible masking too.

As they exhilarate is their rare ability to communicate without masks, the gal knows life will never be the same again.

No more masks. They suffocate, and kill.

The guy does not know this. yet.
He has got his mask stuck on for so long, that he doesn't realise it is a mask. Strange lands help him lose it, but not quite.  At least not yet. As of now, he still mistakes his mask for skin. And skin for mask!

She is saddened. Cause she knows it's a wonderful opportunity being lost.

She does not intend to save him, its not her job, but for her to be saved by him, he has to be  saved first!

She tries her best.
Why do you want to go West? We are supposed to go to the East.

All are going West. He says.

Not us. We have to go to the East. Our happiness lies in the East.

East is dead end.all are going West.

East maybe dead end, but west is death.

How do you know? Why should I trust your judgement?

I just know! Four years is a long enough time to know!  ( they had caught up again,   after a four year gap, after the holiday week in a strange land).

I am West bound. Come with me.

No, I won't go to the East, without you, , but I won't go West with you either. Instead il wait for you to be ready to go East with me.

The lad fights his battles, tears off his mask, bloody but victorious.

One day, as she had hoped, he come unannounced!

I am going East! Wanna join?!!!!!

My date with the Buddha

My date with a Buddha.

Siddhartha Gautama had always intregued me right from school days.

As an adult I could appreciate him even more. We are more or less  similar personality types...Perpectual worriers.or  Over thinkers, as it is labeled these days.

But over thinking, did gave him his answers. And answers for the whole world too, in the bargain.

So when I got a chance to be in Bodh Gaya, I Grabbed the chance with both hands, and I was finally  standing where the tree of enlightment stands.

Now though Buddha is  worshipped by practicising Buddhists  all over the world, he is still different from others ie  a Hindu God, say a Rama or a Krishna, because it is known that they are  Gods in human forms.

Whereas the  Buddha is worshipped as a human in human form.

And while I stood in front of the tree in silent contemplation, it was of course  a serene moment, but it was  when I saw stones, just near the tree,  labeled, the place where Buddha stood to meditate, that   his  humanness hit me hard like a burst of cold air.

That I  was actually standing and breathing at a place where the Buddha would have breathed, have  stood or walked 2500 years ago, was mind blowing overwhelming.

And my sense of wonder, at the realisation, remained unabated, till it was time to leave.
For a change I didn't feel the need to collect pepal leaves either

Pune diary

Pune diaries:

Friday evenings, for me, is usually a rush rush affair these days. No no not TGIF, it's about the trudge back from Pune to Mumbai city.

I need to leave office in respectable enough time, take a brisk walk to Pune station, wait in a  small line to book a  general ticket,( some compulsively slumming  tardy person Inside me simply refuses to book my tickets in advance each time
. Next time for sure!) and  still be in time enough,  to catch a seat on my regular train.

This Friday, however,  things went a bit more  wayward than usual,  and by the time I reach the station, the train had already pulled in, and all the doors overflowing with people trying  to push their way Inside the general compartments.

My heart sinks, cause it seemed impossible  to push in, and the next train is a cool one hour later,  till i spy a less crowded entrance. I rush in,  and to my utter surprise I even find an empty seat, which of course I  capture in a blink.

Once settled, i look around  and observe a middle aged woman  sitting on one seat, her feet placed on the opposite side, obviously guarding the seat.

She makes fierce wierd shrieking noises when another woman tries to remove her legs, and then the penny drops... This was the reserved  handicapped compartment, and the woman is yelling cause she can't speak.

I immediately cross my fingers, and though I feel guilty, I feverently  hope no TT checks my ticket and throws me out... ( no way I am  leaving the compartment at this late stage.).

The middle aged  guy, in front of me observes the shrieking woman with disdain. The other lady gives in to sheer lung power, and goes to hunt some other seat.

While I am, finger crossed, desperately waiting for the train to start,( once it starts next stop is Lonawalla and some part of the journey is over at least) I see a strange transaction.

A man approaches the shreiking woman, who then immediately gets up to offer her  seat to him,  with notes discreetly exchanged!

The guy, with the disdainful expression (who I then understand is a Police Walla)  says angrily,  I knew it! that's what she was upto...she sells seats.. and just creates a rukus.

I am amazed! The victim look on her face now  has a 'I know nothing' look.

I on my part heave a sigh of relief, as the train starts,  and I feeling a lot less guilty too.

All the people in the bogie, without any exception, I decide, including the dumb woman  are tied by a common thread..we  are all regular Indian travellers,,  simply trying to  survive one more regular grind in an over populated country!

Liberation

What are you hiding, dear child?
I am hiding my glory, I answer,
In modesty lies my virtue,
or  so I've been taught..

Whats there to hide? The mind taunts,
Is there any glory
that needs to be hidden at all?
style is no substance, you know..

Teach  me, my mind
to  hanker not
for substance or style,
without both, I  are still uniquely  me
that is the  liberation I dream about
that is the freedom I seek..

Bliss

And then there are some tiring tedious moments, lurking in some days, when nothing, absolutely nothing works.

You feel lonely, In a crowd,  In a bus or a train or even a lift  filled with people. In a room filled with 'friends'.
You have exhausted the mandatory 7000 words, but the heart is vacant. Alienated alone. All alone.

Mainly because the heart still  feels empty. It wants to feel something.....something strong, something moving, as in something not static, like something  hmmm something blooming, something vibrantly alive!

Or Someone who makes you feel. Feel all that, or at least some of it. Some one who makes u feel as if you belong, who makes u feel wanted in  the world's scheme of things. Someone who makes you feel camouflaged, safely hidden, harmoniously blended, all things miraculously in place.

Some one who reminds you that you are not a sore thumb!

And then sometimes, breaks the bad spell!

At times, its just a familiar smile or look from a stranger, other times a rude awakening by daily trivia, but it pulls back to routine, and sometimes  makes you feel replenished all over again.

At well at least Till the next bout!

And then there are those other moments in other days, which ordinarily should be have been as drudgery, but surprisingly are not.

The break in sleep the previous night, which cause a ten minute delay in all aspects of the morning,  which then translates to ten minutes late, every where,  including the tube train which forces you to take an un regular, more crowded train, and the struggle to wiggle yourself into the sardine tight  compartment, with an added worry of protecting  a very loose almost, but not fully shed, thumb toenail on the left foot, from being  permanently pulled out, through unintentional yet expected trampling, and then you stand waiting thirstily for the ten odd stations to glide by to your work place, as you  remember you have forgotten to carry your water bottle, and yet,  somewhere the magic begins its work.

You are not sure when it  starts rubbing off on you. Is it while you were watching three brown  happy tribal teenage girls with their numerous ear piercings  (which would have been maddeningly cool in different circumstances ), gaily chattering on the now relatively empty footboard, or the uniformed blue collared employees diligently oiling the railway tracks, in the piercing sun, but u feel a burst of life.  Like  some new budding  leaf still folded tenderly.

Your inner child is suddenly floating free, and she looks empty minded, at the railway tracks, winding and quant, bordered by concreted bricks, imperfect and yet fitting the scene perfectly, the green in the grass, the exact shade it should be, the tiny wild flowers growing around, swaying the exact speed they should be swaying, u feel unfazed by anything, at that moment, not because u r brave, but because there is nothing to feel fazed about,solitude never felt so warmly embracing!

every thing of everything is a perfect part of a perfect whole, and you too are a perfect part of the same perfect whole.  And life is beautiful!.

Wings

She falls
into the cold deep waters
gasping for drowning breathe
desperately flapping her wings,
trying to swim furiously,

O wise one
Teach her that wings
are made to fly!

Cynical love stories

Cynical love stories

The  perceptive eyes
had long back seen
the road far far ahead,
And the weak heart
had been afraid,...
the mind too
had bravely tried
to hold on
to excuses
to externate thee
From the deceptions
you  had  perpetuated,
it just didn't work.

How does one get over
this current bout
this  hump of
unloving you
for seeing in you
more colours
than  one  had
ever wished to see?.
and go back
to loving thee
like the very first time?

One for Deepika

I have always liked Deepika Padukone.

She is in fact,  a person, whom I liked from second(as in time) one, ( other being SRK and Mohanlal).

There she was, smiling away, on my TV screen, twinkling eyes and all, in a regular toothpaste advt, and I was all at once in love with her. The sense of fun, her eyes gave away, was simply infectious.

For a woman, who is the daughter of a famous personality, in his own right,  Prakash Padokone (for the uninitiated, a famous international level badminton player of his times) she is very grounded.

That she chose to make her name in moviedom, on her own standing, instead of piddling on her father's shoulders, for whatever it must have been worth, is largely commendable.

Her immense beauty, has of course helped land her first advertisement assignment (Atul Kasbekar, no less), and then straight into the lap of the big big Khan, SRK.

But here too, she held on her own, and didn't use the SRK shoulders to win the game, as tempting it would have seemed to any lesser person.

Like, there are these Amisha Patel, Gracie Singh, Sonakshi Sinha types who had great first and second movie hits, but simply could not live up to their first / second movie hypes, mainly because they sailed on the charm and charishma of the lead actor. Deepika managed to steer clear of that.

Her choice of movies, shows her, as a rather unintentionally naturally street smart ( in a nice way) kind of a person. She did not need real author backed roles, like Vidya Balan to make her mark. She climbed to the very slippery top on the much tried and travelled 'hi, I am Rita' roles that ever other regular heroine had tried before her.

Each of those movies she did ( except perhaps the Chandini chouk thingy) gave us a chance to notice her, for herself ( Cocktail, Love Aaj Kal, kartik calling kartik, that one movie with Aamir khans's nephew) and not for the story line or hero or her makeup or her outfits. She stood out on her own.

The X factor was clearly loud and shinning.

From these early movies, she easily managed to create (and combine) the persona of the girl next door types, graceful, elegant, yet a high flying corporate type girl, single, knows her own mind, go getting, and definitelyselfish enough, but for her own good, no body's doormat, ie not at all a self sacrificing heroine, and yet kind heartedly extremely warm and humane enough, and lastly not leastly, proud and standing (six feet) tall, and all on her very own. …a difficult cocktail combination, ( Maybe that she is exactly like that in real life must have helped.)

And after creating this winning personality, she still opted for rather unsafe movies( for the kind of hits she was giving) like Finding Fanny and Piku, which speaks of a certain warmth in her selection of roles along with sheer hard nosed business sense.

Another thing I liked about her, early on, and I always quote to any youngster who is ready to listen, is her extreme sense of discipline.

Given the profession she chose for her self, and the city she settled in, it would have been so so easy for her, to get lost in the glamour and false sheen of late night wild partying and drink binging and so on and so forth, but she did not, and it's more so commendable, because she did that with no guardian figures around, keeping tabs on her.

Instead she chose to remain grounded by exercising an hour daily, which ever part of the world, and tucking good girl self to bed at nine pm, in order to be ready for work next morning bright and shinning.

That she chose to make her depression public was a brave move, and though some seemed to think, it was just a publicity stunt, but if look it this way even if it was ( which I personally think it was not) …… it was a high risk game, which could have easily gone both ways, and she managed to come out a winner here too.

Her love affairs..given the sheer number of men she has been with ( dumped a few, and got dumped by a few) , it must, I guess, have been tempting, and, she could have easily played the victim game, but she chose not to.

Which again speaks volumes of elegance and inborn class.

Yes, that's what Deepika smells of…

A sheer elegantly classy tall beautiful single woman, who made it all on her own, in a world known to be dominated by chauvinistic men!

PS. Even Aishwarya Rai, with her equally formidable world class beauty and middle class upbringing, couldn't do it as much elan, as Deepika.

An unchartered Journey

It was
an unchartered
journey
no rules kind

long, adventurous,
voluntary, sometimes involuntary,
welcome, unwelcome
some easy, some hard
learnings galore

as we trudged together,
your happy  hands,
in my happier ones,
on the winding  roads of life,

wasn't it always
strewn with
shrill songs of childlike laughter,
and love?

where the only rule was,
and is....
abundance.

On your new journey,
Where I am not there,
to hold  your strong  loving hands,
Off you go, my love,
and come back soon,
for I already miss you, man!

Online Friends

Met an old friend today.
My first online friend in fact!

Then he was around 18 and me 38!

Cant believe almost 9 years passed us by!

Thats one thing about online friendships!
We dont need regular factors like, age, backgrounds, looks, status, class etc to start a friendship online! They just click , and remain, if wavelengths match!

About gratitude

Thought for the moment:

What must be worrisome to people about being 'in gratitude', is the conditioning, that it has to be based on a favour received, and hence a favour that needs to be reciprocated.

If being in gratitude didn't involve such mental mathematics, people would be more in gratitude, than not.

Iife?!

So what's life?

It's something which goes on, all around you, within you. Like in the instant minute, you are pushing querty keys, breathing and yawning, lazily wondering whether it's too cold to begin your daily walk, or make yourself that perky cup of tea, to get started, or wait till your spouse returns from HIS walk, so that you can have that added bonus of getting to share the warmth of a shared cuppa.

Elsewhere you are vaguely in constantly underlying awareness of your now rather aged parents, your even more older in-laws, their siblings, your siblings, their spouses, their children, their lives, their stories, .....All living their individually wonderous or torturous lives, whichever way they are letting you perceive it.

Somewhere far away, your only child is striving to find his bearings, as you watch from afar, sometimes fingers crossed, sometimes with an owner's pride, as he is walking life's streets alone, unchaperoned,  and outside your immediate control, where as elsewhere some old dead friend's teen children are now entering into adulthood, which you are sure is going to be fine, and yet some where else,  friends making buildings, friends running ports, friends battling tumours, friends lunching with you, friends working with you, the list is just endless.

And then there is this whole wide Web friends, in different stages of their life..,some who have retired from the prime of life, some still in their prime, some students, some new parents, ..All people who let you  share snatches of their lives with them,  through their posts and pictures, their likes and comments....

Yes that's life for me......A caravan of people. and their lives, which glides on, today,  tomorrow, even when the date on the calendar on the mobile changes to 2017.

Good morning to the last morning of 2016.

Imagine

Imagine,

women tying  rakhis to all random men on the roads, offices streets, just about anywhere.

wow...the men will be forced to remain home,hide their faces, never come out,  just so afraid to walk in the streets!

and hey pestro, no rapes no eveteasing..

come on women, we have nothing to lose  but our chains!

Elphinstone Road

June 1987: me wear 'working woman' shoes.
Temporary vacancy kind. Me love WWS

me discover love for local trains too!  Also, a love forthe quaint railway station I alight. Actually, for most part,  its British name.
Elphinstone Road. Apparently
Named after Mountstuart Elphinstone,Governor  of (when it was still) Bombay.

What follow is a daily routine......A quick look to the left, hurriedly Cross the tracks, slip through a hole in the railway wall to reach the other side. In short, a short cut.

1995 to 1998: back to alighting at Elphinstone road for another job.
Same short cut!

2001to 2003 and 2006-07: nothing has changed.

15.01. 2015: as my eyeS seek the familiar short cut, i see a whole over bridge carefully constructed by the railway authorities, where the hole was.

Well, have to admit,though late, very late, things do change in India( other than the mandatory change of names of landmark places of course) and sometimes for the better!( and that too in this case, unlike some other unlucky guys,  managing to escape  a change of its' british heritage' name!)

Mothers day

It really started on 17th, at about 11.30, after all around had settled for the night .

But inexperience made me think it was indigestion, By 3 am, I was worried it was the thing..

My sister who woke up , to see me agonising says..., oh poor you, didn't you sleep? .Wait, il call mom.

Mom had an anticipatory smile, yeah..It's time she says.

My fast asleep bro, irritated, to be awakened so early, cries, of course not, it can't be time, don't be silly ..Let a guy sleep for God's sake.

Dad's away on work,  hubby at his place, so neighbouring uncle steps in, and off we all go, to the hospital, as precision planned.

A small hitch....  my regular doctor is on vacation.
Oooops, its a  male doctor who walks in.

But at least, he looks nice and comforting..I'm shivering with cold,( the huge matron scared me into keeping the fan on, after I had switched it off twice..Who is switching off the fan, she had roared, while I had pretended not to hear).
Right now all I  want is it off..Badly ..Very badly...If only somebody stood up for me and switched it off, right into the matrons face, I would be fine,  I think..

My new doc, asks me what's wrong..I'm cold, I whimper,  and she won't let me switch off the fan.

She is stupid, don't mind her, he says brightly, switching off the fan for me.

I am glad..I have my saviour..Now nothing can go wrong, I decide.

Three or maybe five hours later I'm not so sure..The struggle is just not ending..I remember the pact me and hubby had...If it's a boy, we opt for another, or we stop at one.

To hell, I  decide unilaterally, boy or girl, this is the last!......I'm through with making babies for a life time.

As if on cue, the imp  pops out, victorious!

HBD AB!

Batman and Joker

Flash:

What the soul yearns most is the need to communicate freely effortlessly with another bare soul, without pretences, without prejudices, without fear, without conditionings.

Which is why I think  Batman and joker can never let go of each other.

Games people play

As a kid, I was rather good at this game of langadi...trying  to one leggedly  catch other kids running on two legs.

In fact, third grade, I was so good, that I soon had kids bribing me before PT class with chocolates and felt pens, just so that I would spare them.

One day it reached a stage, where all the five in the ring, had bribed me, and there were no Indians to cook, so as to speak,  and I had to leave the ring half way, shamefacedly much to the total amazement of the other kids. My reputation of course lay in tatters. I was no longer infallible in their eyes.

It was a lesson well learned.

I realise this when I see FB throw old posts every morning at me. How much I used to write my candid thought in those days.

It's only now, that I've stopped writing my deepest thoughts and fears because I fear it be recognised by the people who have caused the thought to occur, and maybe create unsolvable ripples in the relationship.

I realise it is entirely my loss. I need to write more often without fear of fear.

Memories

Life is all about memories!

I  am a kind of memory keeper.
That means, whether I'm in touch with a person or not, I keep their memories safe with me. When I miss them, all I had to do   is dust the memory box out of the closet.

This system proved useful when one of my  friends expired last year, around this time. He was one of those in the  'thick at one time but no longer in touch' list!

His now adult daughter, when she knew we had worked together at one time, wanted to know all about him as a colleague! The place where he spent almost 8 hours of his life daily, according to her.

I  gladly upturned my memory box, and handed over all those gems I had  collected over 7 odd years, and stored for another 12 years.

Sometimes the best gift you can give any body is these precious unknown memories of their loved ones.

I love  the  memory keeper part of me.

Validation

There are so many people in this wide  world, to love....One of them is we ourselves.

How many of us can take a deep look at ourselves and describe ourselves, the way we see ourselves.

Without our excuses, alibies. Just the way we are.

Like I am a person who doesn't like my mom., Or my dad..Or whosever we r supposed to be in awe of....Without the immediate rush of justifications.

Once we isolate the person that we are without the justifications, we can love our pure selves..

Then maybe we won't need anybody to love us. Cause we already have someone who loves us dearly. And that is none other than ourselves.

Once we ourselves validate our selves, we are self sufficient.

Celebration

Today's jumbled thought:

Is being happy dependant on life being a daily celebration, or is life being a daily celebration dependant on being happy?

If we think about it, on festival days we are happy inspite of our so called life situation, because we know we are supposed to celebrate the day, as it comes only once a year.

Why can't we celebrate every day in the same Spirit?

What say Ram?

Our babies

The first time they are out of sight, (am not counting the ten odd hours where you yourself  are out of sight, due to your job compulsions) for long continuous hours must be when they first go to play school.

Once it's proper school, you get to see them for regular hours  only on weekends, which is again taken up by homework and ever present, and never complete studies.

Then begins those night outs, those over night picnics , those weekend treks, and they keep disappearing for longer and longer hours.

And so time keeps flying.

Until one day they go far far away  for further studies. And now you measure the 'distance time' not by weekends or weeks,  but by a year or two.

And finally, when they find jobs in cities other than the ones they were born in!.

You automatically assume,  it's still temporary like all the other times! ( Unlike daughters where you at some level know they have to leave you some day).

Until, one day it hits you, like it hit me today. This time it's permanent. More than less. They have finally flown the nest! And you are now just consultants, advisors, well wishers in their lives.

And you just hope you have given them enough skill sets to fly high to their own version of what their life is!

Dedicated to all those Indian mothers from all ages whose sons end(ed) up staying in cities not their own!

Never say die

It never said die!

This kadipata shrub, which hubby had brought and tended with great care more than a year ago, (he is a natural nurturer of plants and animals), shriveled due to neglect from my constant forgetfulness to water it daily, when he was away in Kerala, with his dying mom, for more than a month.

It somehow survived. With new shoots today.

I feel  greatful, releived, (as also  guilty) towards both, it and hubby.

Desire

Desire

Problem with desire is that it is a double edged sword. First that it sends you on a wild good chase, until the actual fruitation of the said desire.

Going on a wild goose chase by itself is harmless, but if you are fixated on the object of your desire, you have lost all peace and calm of mind in striving to achieve it. Along with dejection of varying degrees if you don't achieve it.

But even acheivement of desire creates it own problems, because even when you get what you desired, or are sure of getting what you desire, you are suddenly surrounded by the fear of losing, what you got,  or what is well within your grasp.

You then start fearing or worrying about each shadow that threatens to take away the object of your recently won desire. Until of course,  you lose interest in the said desire.

The whole process is wrought with worries that don't let you be in harmony.

So what's the solution?
In my case I am normally ok with easy  reconciling about not getting my desires fulfilled, as somewhere I am sage enough to leave it to time.

However I am not able to be  free, once the object is achieved. So what's the solution? Remembering that even Kings and emprors have not been able to fortify their winnings?. Or believing in carp diem?

How can you not fret about not recognizing that tipping point, where proaction on your part would have prevented the said loss, and your failure to recognise it, before it got too late?

That's i guess is the worse part of desire.

The not knowing when to stop....

desiring!

Clocks and more

And then, for all those times when a single image captures a vague shadowy truth running around in circles inside your tired sleeping mind( oxymoron  i think).

One of those mornings, when I wake up early, read a bit of Frued  and Jung, ( for goddamn Sunday's examination)  only to fall asleep on the couch and wake up an hour later, with a slow motion image of the workings of a tiny wrist watch!

As a kid I had countless times stealthily checked out the insides of  watches of all kinds.. Time pieces, wrist watches, wall clocks( dad  repaired watches  in those days), and if a clock was on the road to mend, it was a real visual to watch, for a week at least, cause then it would hang on the wall ,  a naked, de-dialed skeleton, all  secrets open and bare.

Back to the image I woke up with! That  of these  various wheels of all sizes, of the wrist watch,  some big, some small, some moving clockwise, some anti, some with fast ticking ferocity, and some so slowly that you could easily stare for an hour before it showed some semblance of moment.

And then the realisation! . arent the Insides of a watch a reflection  of our interaction  with each other also?  We are all wheels, some big, some small, some moving clockwise others anti, fast, slow, but all of us rubbing and grinding into one another for certain lengths of time depending on our speed and size groves snugly fitting into groves,  all of us on our individuals  rotations.........we think we are together, but in reality we are just rotating on our individual axis, moving on from one circle to another, with clockwise precision, in order to keep a particular system robust alive an d ticking.

Loving you..

Loving you.

Loving you
Made me realise
that to love you
I had to love
all bits of you
including parts
I was not okay with.

And once I learned
to love
those pieces
a wonder happened......
I learned to love
those parts in others.....
and   in myself too.

and
thus loving you
taught me,
mostly
to love me for myself...

Love Transactions

This business of love,
It's tougher than I imagined,
The price you quote
Is beyond me,
Never mind,
I had wanted you at any cost.

Goodbye

Ive only guessed,
Not  seen,
the immediate fork
in the road ahead,
and here I'm practicing
already,
furiously in my head,
my polite good bye lines
to you,
non challant, no tears,
Ever smiling as ere,

I don't wanna 
be caught unawares,
British Stiff upper lip
is how it has to be!

The heart's song

And the heart break into a song

The chains are man made, al
be it hate, happiness, even love,

The journeys
were always meant to be alone,

We confused it
with rigid community compulsions,

the day you know, you know,
the heart break into a silent song
and then  you walk free, burdenless in gratitude!

Abandoned

Abandoned

Today
she let herself weep
gently
for a little girl
of five
who had sat
everyday
On the last bench
of her classroom
waiting for her guardian
to pick her up
always an hour later
from the now empty class
which would be teeming with life
just a little while ago..

Today,
she permitted herself
To  acknowledge  the bravery
Of the little girl
who had refused to cry then.

Pune diaries

Pune diaries

Having lived in homes for the best 50 years of my life, keeping everything, important, or not,  under lock and key, in hostel living,  turns out to be not so easy a task! Needless to say, I gave up after a week ( it's easier to trust blindly).

And locking  the room door everytime, you leave the room,  even if it was just to visit the  common washroom, is a bit tedious.

I thought I was the only one who must keep forgetting  things, whole climbing down to the mess.
Either I've forgotten my glass or spoon or water bottle, or soap  or like today I even forgot my  plate.
I had even started worrying if it isnt onset of dementia.

So  just now, I was secretly thrilled to see a young girl first  truge down the stairs and then immediately the same head bobbing in an upward climb.

Forgot something? I ask with a kind maternal look.

Sheepish reply: I think I may have locked my roommate out of the room. She was in the washroom..

Yaay,  not dementia at least for sure !

Chimera

that you are
a chimera
becomes clearer and clearer
with each passing day
yet
something compels
me
to patiently wait
for ever passing time
to take it's regular course
and
boldly underline
in harsh
black and white
the illusionary  nature of us!

Two cities.

(Pune diaries!)

Two cities........Mumbai and Pune!

One I've lived (and passionately loved, right though its bad phase of communal riots, and  rechristenings, and bomb blasts and cloudbursts ) my entire life and one I'm living in right now.

Comparision is of course inevitable!

The first thing that majorly  catches your attention about Pune  is  the people.

The average Punekar  is naturally more relaxed, more accepting of any circumstance,  more rule abiding, and basically silent as he goes about his daily chores with a somewhat clockwise precision, unlike the  hotchpotch Mumbai pulse.  ( I sincerely  secretly fear I might  permanently contaminate the city, for the worse, with my super hyper anxiety energy)!

I'm purposely  refraining from using the term laid back, though sometimes to my Mumbai trained mind,  it does seem so, almost as if Pune was the heaven for Mumbaikars, who just  couldn't keep Pace!.

Here, other than the vehicles, both two and four wheelers.....I  got brushed by a bus almost immediately on arrival...... nobody is in a hurry  to reach anywhere. And maybe because of that,  everything everywhere  seem  more spacious, more accommodating, more accepting,  and hardly  claustrophobic,  unlike Mumbai where the roads, the shops, malls, theatres, railway stations, all of which are always always   crowded and over crowded with people,  people, and people!.

My first experience of the slow and steady mantra of Pune came to me when I went to purchase the mandatory bucket, mugs, soaps, toothpaste and miscellaneous stuff usually needed when you set shop, rather a  new house in my case!

The oldish​ guy at the counter has all the time in his plodding world. He takes his time to select each item I requisition with individual care that of course, makes me rather impatient.

The Mumbaiya in me, ​ slides open the  display shelf, to select the tiffin box he seems not inclined to show me..(he has already shown two) while he exasperatedly( even this is slow motion btw)  says...Why do you think I am here. That's my job. Relax and let me handle it.
I let myself lose my urgency,  which if you think about it, is more of a habit than a need,  and decide to go with the flow!

First lesson learned!....

There is absolutely no need to rush mandatory shopping( which is  unlike window shopping which is deliberately slow, which is any ways is more of retail therapy, than a need,  for the ever stressed Mumbai woman).

In Pune,  mandatory shopping can be retail therapy too!

And I must grudgingly accept, Pune is growing on me, minute by minute!

I see...

I see
When I involuntarily mumble,
I love you, yet again,
in my gushing imagination,

a non committal look
that  knows not
what to say or do
how can the tender remain unscratched?...

a look
that which has stopped weighing intentions,
life lessons learned long ago..

But most of all,
I see ( and love)
Your richly amused smile!

Tell me

Changed.it a bit.for FB

Tell me
she asks gaily,
with a teasing  careless smile,
a smile
that one can die for
every time
it's spreads
Across that face,
Why should I love you?

Why? 
he echoes ,
because
as much as you
may have been loved,
By many ere me....

tell me
truly,
did anyone love you
right from the grey
in your wordly wise hair
to the painted ten toenails
of your tiny dainty two feet?

to the tiny nipples
Of your life giving bossom,
on your loving chest,
which hides your lovely heart
Tucked safely
Inside ?

Was there ever anybody,
who has loved
every word
that fell from
Those lovely red  lips,
and every longing look
your soulful eyes bestow?

Anybody
at all, my love,
who found it
so babylike easy
to love your ticking heartbeats,
and to be in perfect harmony
With your every breathe
and  soul?!

Losing

Tongue tied,
morning to night
I watch myself
Fall out of love with you.

My eyes 
Mildly moist,
but only just so
hopes 
to eventually see
differently...

but right now,
Silently it watches
you fumble
as you keep losing
bits and more bits of me
and us
keeps getting
smaller and smaller,

My heart
sorrowful
in the impending void
Before life
fills it up again,
As life usually does......
nature abhors  vaccums...

Ah selfish mind,
losing you hurts less
watching  the unknowing you
losing us somehow hurts more.

First day of law class

'6.59.. do u wanna go to college today or not?"
hubby shakes me awake rudely.
i rub my eyes. Its a clear day today....that being the first condition for me to be able to  attend college..(the burns  that i sustained about two weeks back , and the untiring  Mumbai rains kept me grounded at home for at least ) 6.59 am doesnt give me time for much, i think, as i need to leave by 7.15 at least to reach by 7.30. the college is just a drive away, some solace that!.

i idly wonder if the students wud think i was an unmarried  eccentric old lady,  since i was a skirt(courtesy burns). nobody seemed to notice, or at least nobody asked anything.

while most parents, father or mother were standing at various roads, waiting with their wards for the school bus, my son gave me a piggy back on his bike to reach me to my alma mater, 7.30 sharp.

just like that first day in  NM college in 1983, the whole class is filled to the brim. but unlike that time, the last benches were taken..the first bench was empty. i plonked myself on the first bench close to the exit wall, and turned to the lady behind..have u been attending the lectures last week?..
she grinned . my first day too..here's the time table, and the teachers...i just got it from the guys behind me..i grin back , as i copy the timetable, in haste.

enters one sir, (whom i had seen on the ground floor.), and i wait in eager anticipation for the first lecture.

imagine my disappointment, when i realise that the place from where i am sitting, the board is shinning...some things never change, do they? also, i cud hardly hear anything he was teaching, and not at all helped by the whole class buzzing with conversations.

i was almost ruing having this college, when I took courage and told him i cudnt hear much of what he was saying...that is when he said..........ur teacher is not here.

oh, wow, first lecture free lecture!.

i decided to visit the canteen,  and found four girls also wanting to see it, and since as  a good student in 83-88 years, i had not stepped in the college canteen for more than 3 times in five years,i was determined to correct it, this time at least.

though the canteen was an apology, i was still thrilled enough, to use my BB to send a pic of it to my friends.

i also inquired about the college library.im thrilled, three continious  years of books... 5th floor. somebody says,...lift not for students..ah, il check it later, i decide, when my leg heals.

then the topic turned to reference books to be brought. when somebody spotted the topper of the college...he will give a good idea of what books we need to refer to...the girls rush, i follow lazily....other guys watching him being serenaded by 15 odd ladies.

then its time for the second lecture.. the sir for labor laws, is not good, the girls insist, im sitting anyway, i insist, and they  follow me, and i firmly change my seat to a first bench where i can see the blckboard clearly and hopefully would be more audible.

the sir started dictating notes on I D Act 1947 (industrial Disputes Act..for the uninitiated :P, and im  back to taking notes in a so so handwriting..and believe my fingers started to ache.

though class wud finish at 10.50m i leave at 10.30, I call up son to leave me at Kandivali Stn for my job.

and that ends the first day of college.

Vigils

When nothing is really wrong
And nothing is too right either
When you want to wisely hold on
But also wish to smoulder

You are afraid of breaking hearts
But  can also hear you heart break
Is this the right feeling, that's taking over
Or is it just another trying fake

What's the right action, is it inaction?
Will  doing nothing, make it go away,
Or should the crazy thoughts be vocalised,
What is the most silent safe sane way??

Morose, listless, despair
the minutes of the days just go on
Nobody knows enough to know,
Nobody sees anything wrong.

Oh selfesteem, what your worth,
Why do you seek an alien eye,
Can't you know, you need no other,
You are your own guy.

So this too will pass,
And   there will  be sunshine instead,
Ah, all i need to really really do
Is to keep up the vigil for ahead.

Peep into tommorrow

Today
It feels
like  sunlight
On my open window
Endless
rays and rays
Streaming through
I beam
At the spreading
Brightness all over....
This freedom from you!

Tommorrow
is another day,
And I may not
Feel the same
So let me watch
it in awe today
Soak in the sheer joy
Of this lack of your shadow
Today,
this day!

The gazers...

It was one of those quentessential office triangles.

Till Medha  had walked Into the picture, Neeta and Raghu had a tiny thing for each other, expressed though friendly gazes. But after she entered the scene, their equation developed a slight change, and the three of them together became an awesome threesome.

Raghu was a master of gazes!. Both Neeta and Medha thought they were good gaze guessers too!. Often all three spent wonderful evenings talking less and gazing  more at each another over drinks and food.

Raghu progressively began to vacillate between  both of them, first with an over confident swagger, then with halting wary steps and lastly resigned dejection, and the whole thing turned out to be a huge  deal breaker for all three of them. 

Unfortunately for him, neither girl wanted him, once his shameless truth was out! Of course mostly gazes, lesser amount of words were used to spell the new equations out.

However, since there was much more than jealous bickering amongst him and  the girls,along with  some real good time bonding, after the initial melt downs and show downs, they  still managed to remain friends.

Even after they had moved to different jobs in different parts of the  city.

Though the girls never met  Raghu again, he always made it a point to call Medha once a month. Neeta also called  every fifth day  to also mention of how Raghu was still in touch.  yeah,  I got a call too, Medha would offer, but later she gave up, since she felt that it upset Neeta, for not having  that one extra shred of love.

And anyway Medha realised, not every time he called Neeta, did he also call her. so then the vibes Neeta wanted to give her..listen. You are important to him, but I am more important, was perhaps not too wrong.

And finally, since nobody was technically Involved with the other, after the initial irritation at the subtle one up manship, or firm conviction,whichever way you see it, it really didn't matter  to Medha after  a point!

That particular day, however, Raghu was in Neeta's side of the town, and somehow found time to meet her. One thing led to another, till an impromptu meeting of all three was fixed.

It was sheer joy, catching up, all past trespasses forgotten and love overflowing. Till it was time to leave.

Raghu offered to drop Medha home,  but Medha refused. After all, she gazed, somewhere Neeta is more important to you.

Raghu gazed, no, where did you get that from?.  But Medha' gaze insisted on playing martyr.   Raghu gazed hard one last time,  before they dispersed.

It took Medha almost a week to read Raghu's last gaze...who allotted you second spot?  It was not me. You are hell bent on acting on a grading which was decided between yourselves, without consulting me. I am not going to rescue you. If you had cared enough, you would have faught, not caved in so easy.

So, then don't forget,  It is  you, not me!

Not myopia.

Right now
I am
too close

and
blinded
by your dazzling
brillance...

and
I cannot see clearly..
Nor can I
easily breathe

and
I need
To see things
more clearly.

So
I sniff out stuff
That helps me
form links
to the Chain
which is  my tight hook to you
Go further and
further away,

And
one day
When necessary
I will have
successfully
Unhooked myself from you, my love!

Relationships

One interesting rule about successful relationships.

No two relations can be of same intensity. There has to be one person of larger intensity and the other of lesser intensity.

Usually,  between two people, both know it instinctively. And the one with the lesser intensity usually makes up for his lack of intensity 'units' by being nice to the other person. So the balance is complete. And the relationship thrives.

There are some people though who cannot be intense,  they think they are, but for some reason, they just don't measure high on the intensity  scale, but  they also know  nothing about being genuinely nice  either, and this causes a further imbalance in the relationship.

Lips

Don't bite those,
fair skins spill
amorous secrets
to the careless
inquisitve world,

they give away
delicate tales
of endless passion
meant to be kept
between just two!

skins cant bear  torture
And not breathe a single word,
They cant bear pain galore,
And still go unseen, unheard,

Instead let lips trace
on  thankful delicate skins
Random poetry,
Redo able
readable
on future lovely evenings.

Giving​ legitimacy to mindless rituals

Rituals and stability...Understanding the importance  of rituals.

From the time we are born, most of the things we do, or are taught to do, are rituals. Some rituals are important and necessary like the doctor slapping your bottock to see if you cry. Other rituals like nimbu Mirchi are not.

Most rituals are a pain because they are thrust upon you, without any explanations, or understanding, with just a standing order, because I say so, or because that's how it's done.

The guy, who half naked, fresh out of bath,  raises his copper pot towards the sun offering water droplets is following a ritual. He has been perhaps told, that there is a some godly  gain, so that he doesn't find the ritual cumbersome.

But unknown to him, the real gain is that it gives him a sense of purpose, a sense of daily acheivement or control in at least one aspect of his life, and the remaining instabilities of a day's work, may shrink, due to the fortification of the stability of the early morning ritual.

The trick is know which ritual serves what purpose. The purpose of the ritual of interaction with family on a daily basis is not to update your people with what's on with you, as much as to keep the feeling of 'family' alive. And it needs to be kept alive because finally man is a social animal, and NEEDS human interactions, other than books, music and movies kind.

A prediction box

The days
these days,
my love,
they flow
from one to another,
satin silk smooth.
sleep walking
in slow motion,
they are no longer measured by time.

Treasure them
my love,
for these are the best days,
of our love!

Soon, very soon, you know,
the mind is working hard,
to discover
more and more
about each other,
and then
we will smother
each other into
predictable relationship boxes!

Omens

Its only
when i extricate
myself from the
colorful heap
of your now dead promises

and free you
from the  burdens
of your once
precious  potent words
now lifeless, useless,
and incapable of any  performances,

that i free myself
to soar on to
higher horizons.

and though
i know
im not there yet,
i know
the thought is indeed an auspicious start!

Enroutes

It was
an unchartered
journey
no rules kind

long, adventurous,
voluntary, sometimes involuntary,
welcome, unwelcome
some easy, some hard
learnings galore

as we trudged together,
your happy hands,
in my happier ones,
on the winding roads of life,

wasn't it always
strewn with
shrill songs of childlike laughter,
and love?

where the only rule was,
and is....
abundance.

On your new journey,
Where I am not there,
to hold your strong loving hands,
Off you go, my love,
and come back soon,
for I already miss you, man!

Only yours

Please don't look at me
I am not the answer
To your life's questions
and
I don't have any
answers either!

Your questions
are yours only,
And  your answers
should your own too,

and though
my shoulders can
hold your tears,
and wait
with you
till they stop
their incessant flow

the emptiness
In your heavy heart
that's a different matter!

Life's lessons
Even though
just half learned
by me
tells that, maybe
while
I can stem your sorrows,
but in the end,
they are
yours and  yours only
to destroy!

Expectations

Expectations,
unknowingly
captured and kept
in a sealed envelope.....
open the cover,
and let it go...
free

you can't store sunshine
In a tightly shut room
go on
bravely break the  walls
of tiny fragile desires
and see your self
walk away
free free free!

The bird cage

A tiny fragile feathered thing
Came one day
to my  window sill
and marked its place..

I got it a cage,
for that's how it's done,
wonderstuck
I watch the exotic creature
all my waking hours
Observing, studying, memorising
Its  mesmerising
delicately structured strutter,
and the soul stirring flutter
of its multicoloured wings
while it aimlessly twittered
though the steel bars
those strange undeciferable
Intoxicatingly
melodious sounds
In a foreign language...
addictive, loving, giving!

I feed it choicest grains,
I feel so loving, giving too ....

Yet I fear for the day
When it may  fly away
from its adopted place
as suddenly as
it had come
And perched itself
That day
on my hearth...
and perhaos soar
into the mighty skies,
Its real  home.
Or maybe to
just seek  another window sill
And maybe Ill  look
for another bird to love,
And give and take love......
The cycle of life  always goes on.

Flirtations

The inviting curve
Of your temptrous lips,
That had me enthralled then,
It still hasnt lost
any of its potency...

And though I know
I am not
the only one
Your smiles are squandered for
it still
makes me feel good
To know
I matter too!.

Yet another goodbye

Ive Seen
enough good byes
this life time
not to know
when one begins

This morn
when you came back,
and spoke sans your smile
sans  real  words
and all
pretended
all was normal

That's when I knew
I was looking
at  the beginning
of yet another  end!

The whirlpool

The whirlpool.

She was the first thing his eyes saw when they opened. For a few moments, he was lost. Who was this? Then he remembered.

She was the woman, goddammit, he had spent the night  with. The flashback to the long long  wild love making, made him hot and excited again. The index finger of his left hand traced an Involuntary line across her body neck down wards. She stirred in her sleep, mumbling but did not wake up.

What a surprise packet she turned out to be, he mused. She was not a virgin, of that he could be sure. He, of course was not..If anything he was opposite of virgin. He had lost it eons ago, and been with many women in his eventful life, but today, for once, he found his mind going back to his first love and the first time, they had sex.

For him, it was real as real could be. They were  both  virgins. The courtship had gone for almost eight months, before she was finally ready. He had patiently waited till then.

After that there was no stopping them, and if he did not have to leave town, two years later,  for his first job, perhaps they would have been a proper  married couple.

But it wasnt meant to be. One  unusually  harried day, when he was doing too many things at one time, she had called him, to complain about him, once again, and created yet another scene.

You don't love me, if you did, you would keep ignoring me the way you do... her high pitched voice from the other end, had sounded exceedingly desperate. It was helplessly painful in its sharp histerical accusation. Some where in that mostly one sided  conversation, he knew they were not meant to be. It was just a matter of time, before they finally broke up.

Years later, he had often wondered, if he hadn't been so embroiled in his job at that point of time, would they have survived?

He couldn't be sure. What he was sure about was that he never fell in love again. Not to the endless depth he had the first time around. After that he had always played, keeping his heart safe. More or less.

Each later woman, taught him the wisdom of putting less and less intimacy into the relationship and  It even got easier with time.

She, on the other hand, was somebody who also had her fair share of sorrows in love, but had that unique quality to raise from the ashes, like the proverbial pheonix. The passion she poured Into each of her relationships was awe inspiring, if it  wasn't scary.

He instinctively knew, she was one of those, if he kept meeting,  would suck him into the whirlpool. Her fierce loyalties, her fiery love making, her spontaneity all amazed him. he could see that she had the ability to put herself fully into any relationship, mind, body, soul, without being effected by  lack of equal participation from the other side.  It was bound to become infectious. He would have to get away, before he reached any close. But he also knew that the whirlpool was still far far away.

She woke up to see him staring at her absentmindedly. As if reading his thoughts, she said, don't worry, it's not a trap.  that is how I am, glorious, when in love,  I can't be any different, and neither can you. And for us to remain happy, both of us need to remain us. 

He smiled, his conditioned polite smile, while his heart leaped a little. Perhaps, he could face the whirlpool.  Maybe just this time, maybe, he would get  the right blend lucky. And maybe finally, fall in love again.

On.loving

So
today
I want to
try something ambitious...

I want to love
in such a way
That I have never done before

A love that
Seeks nothing....

Is not a want
meant to fill  unoccupied time

that which  does not demand
any regular ordinary needs
Which love claims it's entitlement

that which
simply watches from afar

that which  does not demand
any kinds of reciprocity
how so ever tiny...

a love,
that is truly Independent
of so called love!