Moments...

Nor an escape from the past

Neither the promise of a future

It’s just for here, and just for now.

In the moments, at this  hour

Just like the handful of sand

That will escape the fists very soon…

Not in the tears, nor  in the smile

Just for those looks in the eyes for a while…

Not for the eyes that stare,

Nor for the eyes that speak…

But for those eyes that play hide n seek

Not in the music, nor in your words

But for those silences between the lips

I feel like being with you.

Give me those moments…

Those moments of peace,

Those moments of love

Those moments of life

And I promise to live an eternity in each.

Life Is Lived In Transformation

For after long... very long

I've realized the fault

I’ve realized the truth

The fault of killing my soul

The truth that I was not myself

The simple fact that I have changed...

For after long... very long

I've felt this urge again

I've felt the drive again

The urge to live my life again

The drive to laugh at every joke

The simple fact that the heart still beats...

For after long... very long

I'm scared to admit it

I'm scared to own it

Admit that too much has been wasted

Own that I can count the years

The simple fact that life won't be forever...

I lost so much in translation

I lost so much in transgression

I lost so much in the tears I cried

I lost so much in those fake smiles

How much more can I lose from me

Until I lose something called 'me'?

Do I have the strength in me

To make someone smile again?

Do I have the guts in me

To make someone live again?

Do I have any tears left over

To cry if someone hurts again?

Yet I will laugh, and I will cry

I dare to love, I dare defy

My hopes are high, I dream again

To swim the ocean, reach for the sky

I have emotions left for every occasion

I know, LIFE IS LIVED IN TRANSFORMATION.

SAFE...

The room was illumined, not with lights, but with the afterglow. The darkness was softened, by the presence of the two, who now lay beside each other. Her head rested on his chest, and he was playing with her soft curls.

HIM:  Hey?

HER:  Hmm…

HIM:  How do you feel?

HER: About?

HIM: Now.

HER: Right now?

HIM: Right now.

HER: Safe, very safe.

HIM: Safe!! Why?

Her face lit up with a mysterious smile…

HER: Because you have a  broad chest, fatso!!!

She started tickling him, and they got into a pillow fight…

Moments later, they were snuggled up against each other again. She loved to sleep, her head rested on his chest.

HER: Hey?

HIM: Umm?

HER : I feel safe, coz I can hear your heart still pounding. I feel safe coz I still feel your hushed breath brushing across my forehead. I feel safe because I can still sense the warmth of your skin, the blood racing through your vessels. I feel safe coz you still move, coz your arms still embrace me, and your limbs still entangle me.

I feel safe coz you will still frown when I wake you up tomorrow, I feel safe coz you’ll promise to come back from work early; and in the evening when I open the door so eagerly, you’ll be standing right there, with a smile across your face, saying, “Honey, I’m home.”

P.S. : Fiction yet again...

to live for you and die in your arms...

The ECG machine denoted that the heart was still functioning, the clinical evidence that I was still alive. No one would, I know, believe that one can fall in love at the death bed; but yes, I did. I fell in love with you, when there were no hopes of me surviving the fatal disease I carried within myself; right at the place inside me, right where life dwells.

You came everyday, thrice. You checked my pulse and made sure I was still inhaling and exhaling, to confirm that my heart was still functioning. Only I knew, I was breathing again. Only I felt, that my heart had started beating again. But even amidst all the care you took to see that my heart was behaving alright, even after all the medication, my heart malfunctioned thrice a day; every time you held my hand to check my pulse, you never knew, but my heart skipped a beat, and it still does.

After the fifth day in the ICU, you felt it was a miracle that I survived the third attack. You said I was brave enough to fight it. Everyone said it was God’s grace; but I knew it was the power of love. I remember the time when I was sinking, and that is when I saw you; and I knew my heart had some last emotions to feel before it stops throbbing.  I rose, from that deep delved pitch dark hole into which I had almost disappeared.

I was placed in a cabin, small but neat, with a window just beside my bed. They wanted to take me home, because all of them, including me knew that my lease wasn’t for too long. I was here among this world only for a very few days now. But I insisted on staying back; I said I feel safe here. They let me stay, considering it my last wish. I stayed back, because I didn’t want to survive, I wanted to live the last few days of my life; live for those moments, when my heart could skip a beat.

Every moment from then on, I have lived to wait for you, thrice a day. Only for those few glances of yours, I would spend the rest of my days in this small hospital cabin. I know, my heart is weak, and I do not have time and strength enough to offer it to you.  I know, and I never dream of spending my life with you. But I am holding on to life, with the only hope that I could die in your arms.

P.S.: This is just a piece of fiction. I am a healthy person with a healthy heart.

FRIENDSHIP

Friendship, just like love, is not gonna stay with us for a lifetime. This is a fact I had accepted, though with much reluctance. That morning, when I woke up and saw my luggage all packed, I felt a pang in my chest. I was finally leaving the country. I latched the main door and handed over the keys to my landlord and walked towards the gate.

As I opened the gate, I took one last glance at the house… or home? I thought, “Should I be crying?” But then again, I felt, “Why should I?” I mean, in movies and all, they do cry in such scenes, but that is because they are sad to leave something behind. I was taking all I have along with me, packed in the suitcases. For once, I felt so convenient about not having a family, coz that would have made my packing so much complicated. How on earth would I have managed to pack a pair of mom and dad and a bunch of siblings into the suitcases? It was perfect that I was alone.

Alone? Not really until before a few months back. Ashwin was there since I was sixteen. And Anjali… Anjali was there from even before. She helped me pack every single thing that belonged to me when I finally moved from Mamaji’s place into a home of my own. Though a rented one, but for the first time, I would cease to be an undue burden on grumpy relatives. And when I moved, I made it a point to bring back everything that belonged to me, I never liked the idea of moving ahead, leaving my things behind. After all, in every single thing I consider mine, there dwells a piece of me in them.

But those were past… Ashwin was gone now… for some better prospect. And Anjali… she too was gone. Who the hell ever said friendship was for a lifetime? All those moments of childhood and teenage to becoming adults… we had shared them together… and all were gone in the blink of an eyelid? All for that guy… what was his name? I just forgot, pardon me. Oh, wait… why am I even asking for a pardon? He was not worth her. I told her that, but she never believed me. She said I was speaking against her guy, coz I was frustrated about losing mine? Heck! I agree I was frustrated, but that wasn’t the reason for my being negative about her guy… 

Anyways, it was three months that I was all alone, in this whole world. And that was when I got this call from Muscat, asking me to join their company there. Good package and very less things left for me to pack for leaving this country, I readily agreed.

I took the cab to the airport, and there again, I looked behind. Damned! There was nothing left for me, no one waiting for me… I better moved ahead. Suddenly, my cellphone vibrates… I get a message from an unknown number saying… “ Check your mail once, before you leave.” Now who was this? Hey wait… I knew the number! So what if I had deleted it, Anjali’s number was there in my head. Dunno what caught my whims, I moved away from the check in queue, took out my laptop, and switched it on. 

I connected the internet through my cellphone, and in moments, I was into my gmail account. Among a hell lot of promotional mails, junk mails and spams, I could see Anjali’s one. I clicked it open, and there were a series of snaps in there.

God! When did she do all these? It was a collection of all the times we spent together. There was the one with us making the doll’s house… we were barely 10 years at that time; and there was the one with us preparing a batter, I suppose we were baking a cake for the first time. There were pictures of us in crew cuts, pig tails, pony tails… to long and beautiful hair… How could I forget we had grown up together, always?

I scrolled down the entire mail, reliving every memory of us together that the pictures managed to remind me of. At the end of the mail, there was a p.s., saying, “We were never ‘me’, we were always ‘us’, and we will always be ‘us’. My eyes drifted to the chat list, and I saw a shining green button beside her name. “Should I ping?”… I finally pinged.

Me: Hey, just checked your mail.

Anjali: Hmm… how was it?

Me: Good!

Anjali: Did you cry L???

Me: Noooo… why wud I????

Anjali: Oh! Btw, when is your flight?

Me: In about an hour…

Anjali: You must check in, then?

Me: Yup, I must.

Anjali: Did you manage with packing?

          I mean, I wasn’t even there to help you this time…

Me: Oh! I managed… I did.

Anjali: You packed everything?

Me: Yup… I never leave anything behind, you know that!

Anjali: You sure?

Me: What do you mean? Yes, I am.

Anjali: There’s something you’re leavin behind…

Anjali was video calling me…

I took it…

I could see her across the call window, she was crying.

Suddenly, I felt something itchy on my cheeks. I took my fingers there only to feel something moist.

Hell! When did I start crying?

“Anjali, I don’t think I can manage to pack you up in any of my suitcases.”

“In that case, what would you do?”

“Guess I would unpack my other suitcases. When I cannot pack something that’s mine along with me, I’d rather stay behind.”

“You wait there, I’m coming to pick you up…”

Hell! Friendships are meant for a lifetime… after all… we should be together till we click pictures of us with grey hairs and maybe even no hairs… J

 
 P.S - I am participating in 3G Life Blogger Contest(sponsored by  Tata Docomo) under the category My friends. My life. My phone.

lost and found

When I was four I enjoyed playing with him. He said I was his “bestest” friend. By the time I reached eleven, he grew boring. He would still like to play with cars. He could not gossip. He would still lisp whereas my speech had grown perfect by then. The only word I lisped was his name. But then I continued calling him Lessi only out of affection. I had a whole bunch of friends at school who were smart and stylish, but Leslie was still a child. Mom said Leslie would always be a child. He could not grow up, God won’t let him. But she reminded me that had nothing to do with us being friends. However, with time, I spent less and less time with Leslie, because he was not allowed to go beyond the community park; and I liked going out with friends.

The year I turned thirteen, I learnt, people like Leslie suffer from autism. My friends got me make up kits and deos and glitter nail polishes and lip glosses for my birthday; Leslie came with a box of lollypops. During my birthday party, some friends made fun of Leslie. They said he is grown up enough to be a man, and he still likes lollys! I chided my friends for laughing at him. I didn’t like others making fun of him, but at the same time I realized that I have to choose between Leslie and the other bunch of friends; because Leslie would always be a child. I chose the latter. I felt proud to grow up, and saw no reason why I should hang around with someone who would never grow up.

At sixteen, my best friend Priya stole my boyfriend. I came from school, crying my eyes out. Mom wasn’t back from office, and I did not have the spare key. So I went and sat in the park. Leslie was playing alone. I asked him if I could play with him. He said he would allow me to play only if I agreed to lose in the hot wheels car race. Also, he had two cars, and I would have to play with the bad looking one. I agreed. We played for like half an hour, and by the end of it, I was bored. I did not enjoy playing with him. While we were playing, Leslie mentioned, I was no longer his “bestest” friend. I felt guilty of having neglected him, when he had been my constant companion ever since I knew myself. But I realized Leslie and I had grown apart. He still enjoys things I had left far behind. Mom had come back, so I went home.

At eighteen, I left home for college. On my last day at home, Leslie visited us with his mom. He brought me a cute hand mirror as a good bye gift. He didn’t look happy. I thought maybe he is sad because I was leaving. Later, when his mom joined my mom in the kitchen and we were left alone, I asked if he was sad because I was leaving.

“I am not sad because you are leaving. You don’t car race with me anymore. I can play alone.”

“Then why are you so down Lessi?”

“Because I didn’t want to bring you that mirror. I wanted to get you lollypops. But mom said you would not like your lip gloss to be spoilt by licking lollypops. And in college people like to look beautiful. So we should get you something that can help you look good.”

Leslie said it very innocently, but somehow he made me realize I had grown up. He was still in his blissful childhood, and I was not. For the first time I felt jealous of him.

Next vacation when I visited home, I hardly saw him playing in the park with his cars. I went to his place and saw him sitting in front of his computer. His parents got him one for his 30^th birthday. He was playing Road Rash. Still not bored with racing, I thought.

I tried talking to him, but he hardly responded. Thereafter, I barely remember him being in my life.

Ten years from then, one night, I was in my New York apartment, trying to make Zoro sleep, when I got a call from the hospital. My husband had met with an accident. We rushed to the hospital. He fought with death for three long days, by the end of which he lost. I was all alone with a four year old kid, that too in a city which was not mine. Mom asked me to return home. 


It took me six months to complete all the official formalities, and when I flew back home, I saw the entire family waiting for me at the airport. Along with them, Leslie had also come. He looked old now, and dull, and lonely. He stood in the far corner while everyone else was busy greeting me.

That evening, while I was doing the unpacking, Leslie came over. I introduced him to Zoro, my son. Leslie asked Zoro if he liked cars. Zoro had a huge collection of them, all gifted to him by his father. He asked me to take out his toys. I took them all out, and gave them to him, except one, which I hid under the pillow. I thought Zoro should have at least one memoir of his father to look at later when he grew up. I left the two of them to play while I carried on with my unpacking. Suddenly my eyes fixed at Leslie. I saw something which was long lost, come back… that spark in Leslie’s eyes, when we as kids used to play together, reappeared. They were fighting over the better looking cars and arguing on who should win and who should lose.

By the end of four hours, when it was time for dinner, Zoro and Leslie were at harmony. They were taking turns to win and lose, to play with good cars and bad cars, lisping away merrily all about cars and races. Zoro wouldn’t leave Leslie, so he had dinner with us. In the next few days, both of them grew equally fond of each other. Leslie’s computer lay unused and he had excavated out all his old cars.

Leslie has some grey hairs now, but his heart is still green. I feel happy for Leslie. He lost his only friend when I grew up, but found another in my son. Last night, when I went to call Zoro back from the park for dinner, I saw the two of them looking up at the sky. Zoro said Leslie was helping him find his dad among the stars.

“And how would Leslie know which is your dad? There are so many stars up there.”

“Lessi would surely find out Mom, he said he would do it for me, even if it takes the whole night. Because he said I am his ‘bestest’ friend.” 

p.s. - this is a piece of fiction

Its time to move on…get a life

My days were now occupied in anticipation and wait for calls from the companies I had applied to.  A month passed since I completed my MTech, this Saturday morning I was helping around at home with the household chores when my cell shouted out. Seeing an unknown landline number flashing across the “Love ruined me” wallpaper, I realized it had to be one of those interview calls. I cleared my throat and proceeded to take the call.

“Hi!” said I.

“Am I speaking to Miss Neha?”

The ‘yes’ I intended to voice out die down somewhere around the vocal chord; all that managed to come out was “Nitin?”

I knew, I recognized almost immediately; I could not be more right. It was him, it had to be him. The accent, the depth in voice, the breaths in between words, the husk, God! It was him. How can I not recognize the voice that I have been replaying over and over in my head for six years now?

I time travelled six years down the calendar...

“We cannot do this Nitin, please do not leave me. It’s been 7 months now that we have known each other. You know we are made for each other. "

“But Neha, you have to understand. I cannot, though I want to.”

“Can we not meet at least once?”

“If it has to end, it has to end this way. And, it has to end, today. I have my own reasons Neha. Please cooperate, and make it easy for me, will you?”

“Here is someone who loves you. And all she has in mind is your voice. All she gets to imagine of you is the 10 digit mobile number that flashes across her mobile screen every night. Let me at least see you for once before you leave.”

“I am sorry Neha, but I can’t.”

“Nitin, can you give it one last thought? Your entire decision?”

“How is that possible?”

I didn’t have an answer to this last question. We hung up.

The next day was the last of my 12^th grade board exams.

Results came out within a month. Though I fared well in all other papers, the after effect of that night’s incident was evident in my physics grades, I barely managed to pass. After that it was a goodbye to mom, dad, my bedroom, old friends. Along with new outfits for college, I however did take two old things I couldn’t let go, my diary, filled with his memories and my SIM card. I couldn’t risk changing my number, for I didn’t want to miss a chance if he ever changed his mind. Not a single night passed when I didn’t relive all those conversations we had (all, over the phone); and not a single night did my pillow fail to witness those silent tears I shed for him.

Back to the present…

There was silence on the other end of the phone. I was confirmed it was him. Did he realize it was me? Yes, the nervous breathings I heard said it all.

Finally he spoke: “Ma’am, I have called regarding your application as an assistant engineer at…”

God! Am I actually hearing him once again? I was stoned.

“Miss Neha, you have got excellent grades overall, but your 12^th board results do not qualify our criteria, Seems…” there was a hesitation. And then he spoke again; “Seems a single subject has let you down.”

“I screwed up my paper after the night you left me.”

“But we have our own rules here Ma’am, and we cannot send you an offer letter.”

“Look Nitin, I know it’s you. Can we meet up once, just once? For old times sake?”

“I’m extremely sorry Miss Neha, but a second interview is not possible at the moment.”

“Nitin, you are avoiding me? It’s been six long years I’ve been waiting for this one single call from you, don’t you care a bit? Don’t you feel my pain, damned?”

Tears were streaming down my cheeks.

“Its time to move on…get a life. Have a good day Miss Neha.”

P.S. : This is a fiction, though inspired by real life. The characters are imaginary, though the theme has some resemblance to real life.

 
 P.S - I am participating in Share Life Blogger Contest(sponsored by  Tata Docomo) under the category My friends. My life. My phone.

INDIBLOGGERS PLZ PROMOTE IT IF YOU LIKED IT...

out of place!

someone take me along
to the place where i belong
here is no home, nor no hearth
wanna go back to the place of my birth
loneliness creeps in through the crowd
this city's not mine, its too loud.
coz home is where the heart belong
i wanna go home, its been too long...

DUSTY

IT WAS ONLY WHEN I DUSTED THE PIANO
AND TRIED TO STRIKE THE OLD SYMPHONY
I REALISED HOW DISORIENTED THE TUNE SOUNDS NOW...
THE HEART WAS DUSTY TOO...
NOT HAVING LAID HANDS ON IT FOR LONG...
I TRIED
BUT ALL THAT CAME OUT OF THE DUSTING WAS...
COUGHS AND MORE BOUTS OF COUGH.
AND NOT A MELODY!!


GUESS I AM TOO OLD
TO START ALL OVER AGAIN
THE BONES ACHE WHEN I HOLD THE PEN
GUESS I AM TOO OLD TO WRITE IT ALL OVER AGAIN.
BUT I HAVE IT IN MY HEART
ALL THOSE LYRICS AND SYMPHONIES
ALSO, NEW LYRICS AND NEW SYMPHONIES
ONLY THE FINGERS ARE TOO OLD TO WRITE OR PLAY...


OH! THAT I COULD LAY MY HEART BARE,
OH! ONLY IF YOU COULD DUST IT OUT
WOULD YOU KNOW, THAT IT IS STILL YOUNG
WOULD YOU KNOW, IT IS STILL SORE FROM THE LAST WOUND YOU GAVE
NOT AN INCH HAS HEALED SINCE YOU LEFT
AND THAT NEAT SLIT FROM THE BROKEN TOY OF YOURS..


ITS FROM THERE THAT THE SYMPHONY LEAKS
THAT IS WHERE I HAVE ALL THE MUSIC
AND IT WILL CONTINUE TO PLAY WITHIN ME
IT WILL CONTINUE TO HAUNT ME...
TILL YOU COME 
BLEED ME OUT OF THEM
AND HEAL ME AGAIN.

too much red....

Too much sand had passed
through the hourglass of life,
Too much blood had run
through my veins.
The glass of wine had remained untouched
Coz... I feared red
I felt blood.
The chalice... ever inviting
But i felt it was not pure.
And then...
I contemplate sin
The sin... no more camouflaged
Lust flashes red across the paleness of love
I fear red
I feel blood.
The gnawing jaws can hold no more...
The fierceness within.
I fear the knife
I fear it would bring out
The true color within me...
The blood red, under the camouflage of the white skin
The violence slumbering within the peace
I fear me, 
I feel blood.
But sin does its job
I see the red
I see the blood
I see me, the inner me.
I no more fear blood,
I feel red.
The sin is over,
I am purified.
I am the one, that holds the blood
I am the chalice...
So red, so blood, yet so pure...

 
 P.S - I am participating in Share Life Blogger Contest(sponsored by  Tata Docomo) under the category My friends. My life. My phone.

priorities switch !!

After a 3n a half years of loyalty, I finally changed my cell. My friends were as excited as I was, especially my room mate, coz she would finally listen to different ringtones!! as I inserted my sim into the new handset, I realised what a tough job lays ahead... copying my contact list... as i had loads of time ahead, i thought i would do it manually, n sort out wanted and unwanted numbers... it took me a night, and that night taught me a lot... about myself, about my life, about my priorities... my previous cell had a list of 800 odd contacts, n after i filtered them, i transfered only 273 of them to my new one. as i came across names starting with "A" and ending in "Z", i realized, how priorities have changed.

a certain name, which occupied the maximum space in my call log once, has remained untouched for time unknown to me. a certain name which entered my phonebook only a year n half now reigns over my call log.

a certain number once had all my utmost secrets in its msg box, now there's hardly any. a certain number was once my morning alarm, it doesn't exist anymore. a certain number was my trobleshooter for all situations, i hesitate to dial that number now.

some names made me smile, some names made me cry, some names made me angry, and some names irritated me; yet some names made me feel guilty... of broken promises, of promises to keep in touch, of being friends forever, of fights, arguements, break ups.

i realized, how priorities have changed, rather switched, from one person to another. so many faces came and went away, in a brief span of 3 n a half years, so many people became important in so many ways, and then so many lost their importance.

yet the process continues, new names enter the contact list everyday, only to become old in the course of time. strangers become friends, n vice-versa... the process of adding and deleting continues... so like life!!!

 
 P.S - I am participating in Share Life Blogger Contest(sponsored by  Tata Docomo) under the category My friends. My life. My phone.