The City that never sleeps...

The coffee was getting cold, steam rising from it in large swarms. A table lamp shaded its warmth alongside its plight to light its space. The silence of the room was suddenly disturbed as she crumpled a piece of paper and hurled it to where a herd of them lay. Something seemed to annoy her as she tried to work…

She stood up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and stretching her hands. The numbness was getting to her. Walking over to the window she looked at the street below her. From four floors up, everything seemed miniaturized. There was a storm raging outside the window, cold and merciless. Yet, it did not seem to disturb the preoccupied people, except the inch of desperation to reach home. She looked lazily at the table, bringing work home was the last thing she wanted to do. But deadlines stared at her from the small yellow papers stuck on the wall next to her table. And the coffee she had made to keep her warm, oh, she never had time for it. Every morning she would have to pour it down the sink, making a mental note not to repeat it again…

It was the city that never slept, she knew…  Busses and trains literally groaned under the weight of the people crammed into them, taking them to their diverse destinations.  Every eye reflected the struggle and passion to succeed.  Just like hers, when she had vouched for journalism. Being a reporter, she loved the spotlight, the risk, the travelling and sometimes, putting her life on the line. The thrill was enchanting. But as they say, everything in life came with a price tag. From tall towers touching the sky that glimmered with lights like as though a million candles were lit in mid air, or the dark eternal stretch of roads, or cars speeding away with blaring flawless engines; to the selfish, heartless people masked in pleasantness, they had all imbibed the spirit of soullessness.

She was amongst them, the crowd of hollow men. Though every time she would find herself wanting to do what she had almost forgotten to do, trust. But pain was always a consequence, searching her soul in the past, among lost relations, among sleepless nights, bewitched work timings, strangling deadlines, a bit of jokes and happiness under the hood, thoughtless adventures, a list of things on the purchasing list, countless acquaintances and camera flashes, mindless dancing, alcohol and smokes, heartbreaks and scars…

Sometimes, some choices in life always caught up to you. It was a matter of time if you’d see yourself regretting the choice or you fight with it along the years and look back a day and find nothing but the struggle. It was just a question of which day came first. But somewhere in that struggle lay all her life. There was no changing it. There was no looking back. That was all a couple of years, triumphs, sorrows, and failures ago…

 

 The storm raged on, inside her. Yet, tired with work and fighting off emotions, she fell asleep with her head on the table. The cold coffee lay forgotten…    

23 years and Counting...

Life kick started with a certificate. A birth certificate...

 A carefree baby. A carefree yet curious toddler. Lot of doodling and playing. And before I know it, I assume the glorified role of the whining school boy. I am taught how to write, read and some behavioral aspects. I'm good to go. For my ability to write ABC and 123, I still remember, I was given a certificate in UKG-G. More like it was for mom and teachers who taught me all of it... Oh and I still remember the maths teacher comparing a girl's round and sweet looking handwriting with the narrow and broken one of mine. I slapped the girl later and got punished for it. :) And yeah, she's my best friend now.

Fast forward a few more years. The competition, pressure & tension started... Though I don't remember much of it now, there I was, wanting the "honour roll" certificates for good marks. I also had a load of friends obsessed about it. One night before exams, I sat by my dad's favourite music player, playing with its volume knob. I had a Hindi exam the next day. Mom came up to me and asked me what I was up to. I told her I studied some poem by-heart. Then she enquired about the second which was the last one left. I smiled at her, still playing with the volume knob and said, "No mom. That poem won't come in the exam. I've told God not to let it come" Well it did come and my total was a bit low, I missed honour roll again. :)

When I was in 5th grade, I was suddenly so motivated. My teacher loved me. I always managed only a 70% in exams till then. And 80% was silver honour roll and 90% was gold honour roll. I played less, carried more books in the bag on my shoulder, slept less, crammed my head with more. But sometimes it really got to me. The previous night of the results day I sat awake all night with a calculator and question papers thinking on how much I would get. The results day tided away. I walked home with the progress report with an 81.4%. And it was the first time I was gonna show it to dad first and not my mom. Coz when marks are less, mom will sign :)  And the day finally came when I was standing on the stage, sturdy and proud. My first honour roll!

Years passed. I was writing the board exam for 10th grade. My hands were shivering like it never had in my life. A teacher came up to me and tried to tell me it was ok. No it was not ok. This is the end of my life if I don't get a honour roll... And this time it was gonna be gold. Or else what was everyone going to think. All those who were hoping and praying for me. It's my life on the line. I don't remember anything much between the exam and the time that I walked into class one day a few months later and my friend Umar was annoucing my marks. I simply hadn't had the nerve to check it online. I had made it, my first gold honour roll.

And a few years and a disastrous 12th grade (hehe!!), I was there like a fool in an entrance coaching centre darkening bubbles for answers of questions. (1)-a, (2)-c,(3)-e and so on... And well it wasnt too good but there I was in an engineering college. 4years of notes and assignments, exams and presentations, lecture and harassment, shouting and screaming, attendance and proxies, leave's and fake medical certificates, fun and fun making and yeah, CERTIFICATES... Loads of them!

It was all over for the moment. A break...After 23 years of my life. I sat by my bed looking at all the certificates in my life. Papers that defined what I was. Papers that shaded evidence on my conduct. Papers that showed my nationality. Papers that showed where I belong, that showed how good or bad I was at a subject or how lucky I was at the exam. 23 years of my life was in those pages. These were the pages for which I,  faced all those frost nosed teachers (not all- just some of them who think we were a pile of shit in front of them), spent lots of money in colleges, tuitions, places to stay, food and  also lost most of my sleep, faced people's ego, wrath, sometimes even cried... These pages were what I lived for.

Though everything else along the years is a funny thing to think about. Friends, the good times, love and a lot of beautiful things... Its something that the final page of the file I was stashing the certificates wasn't decided. Tests were yet to come and so were certificates. Even failure was a certificate added. Along each certificate is attached a lot of memories of all the incidents before getting it. I guess the path was always more enjoyable than the destination. The destination was after all just a certificate. Be it in someone's heart or a small piece of paper neatly stashed in a file...      

Smiling... I thought... "The birth certificate... Thats where it all started..."

The Predicament...

I've pondered long for how this write up should be. Give it a third person perspective and I could express more. But I guess I have to be myself for this once. Life's been a race and sometimes you have to wear a mask. It's not to prevent yourself from getting hurt. Its coz you dont want anyone to see you, or you dont wanna open it up and look yourself in the face. Coz you know you're living just a big lie. You can't accept the fact that you are stuck, knowingly or otherwise...

Happiness is a moving target, maybe coz you have seen and lost something greater in the past, or probably you were so content with it, that you can never let go and accept anything else. It was her. I know I may have mentioned, and may have bored people with the story. But this is my story, I cant get tired of it.

I had once read a forward text on my cell phone. Love just happens once and everything else you feel is your mind trying to get that old love again. You look for her in others eyes. You look for her in the broken bits and pieces in the shackles she has left you in. I'm not saying that you can't move on. I have, in fact. Like another million dreams that have been persuaded to be pushed down in the gutters of the mind, she lays there. But its just that she has a voice. She has a temper. She still loves you... All in the depths of your mind. She taunts you and life becomes a surreal reflection of the past. Every moment of life reminds you of her, like a bad replay.

Sometimes when I walk to faintly lit rooms of my house, I can find her waiting for me. I touch her hand and she's gone. I have a long list of friends, most of them who are really close. I talk to them, accept them for what they are and support them whenever they need me. And I never hurt their feelings. I get a lot of love and attention from my female friends. Probably coz of what I am to them. But sometimes I feel, I'm just filling up the emptiness in me. Getting some love and attention from lots of people, and searching my lost soul in it. At least my soul glimmers in the happiness of the others around me. When I love again, I search for her, for the words, the kindness and everything I got from her. Its nice to cower behind something and try to be someone your not. At least life is a fantasy and you're a third person to everything, u can think, postpone, come back to things as and when you want. Further more, dreams and fantasies are beautiful places to live in.

 It becomes a memory that I simply cant change. A set of dreams in this labyrinth that I entered once and have been forbidden not to leave. Sometimes I feel that its just me,  I cant leave coz i dont want to.It is one of those things even I cant do anything about.

Simply coz I wish to and another side of me, wishes not to. I feel hollow sometimes, wondering who or what I am.

Maybe just a mere memory, who's soul has long ago ceased to exist...

The Wick of My Soul

Hath i, not waited ages 
For all things both great and small
For wat drives me and yet awaits the hearts stages
She who knoweth me, my heart, my all... 

And yet more, along along in a dream space, 
Hours, months and years hence
Shall i go another million ways, 
And meet the one, the difference. 

For someday, shall i bequeath my heart, 
Leave it at the mercy of fate
Be unwanted and ages apart
Yet, shall there be an end to this lifetime's wait?

The course thou said, be never smooth nor tender,
Yet noone there be, who see-eth my heart in pain,
Doomed by yet a curse, not a moment to splendor,
For where i was left, i must remain...

Shaken awake, from a dream i wished to believe
Dreams be dwelled in, life never be whole, 
Hath i still, never a wish to leave, 
But gingerly lit it was,and died, the wick of my soul....

A Wish...

There was I, on a cloudy day,

Sate below a willow tree,

Wishing firm for she would say…;

Asked I, “What must I do for thee?”

There she was, a lifetime’s wish,

But hath she, her own free will,

Nor could I, plead nor show my heart squeamish

For, a lifetime’s worth, or a moment still…

Braided hair, prayerful eyes and gentle brows,

And a smile to go with thee,

Amidst a dream, amongst my vows,

Could I wish, they were waving to me?

For a hundred years, have I been in love,

Yet, known not have lived that much,

Only have I known now somehow,

Or felt it from a moment’s touch.

Live must I, in this wish of wishes

Worthy not I? For not me to say,

But, like a dream it flourishes…

A lifetime it leads, dies and withers away…

Irony

Hide your hurt with a smile,
Wipe ur tears and,
Beguile the world with dreams of laughter.
Sing away while you have cried,
Laugh and take the world for a ride,
Into lands of happiness,
Into realms of fantasy.
Hide from the world, your soul, searing sorrow,
Enjoy and make the world enjoy,
As if there was no tomorrow.
And yet, accept the world's brick bats with a smile,
For sorrow too lasts for, like joy,
But for a short while...

Calm before the storm...

The drive was a bizarre experience... As life had always been. Though we have a million wishes and yet another set of dreams that we could never compromise, everything in life came with a price tag. Here I was on a rickety bus, with the heart of a child, happy and thrilled. The sleepy and nodding heads of the rest of the passengers didn't dampen my spirits. For the first time in a really long time, I knew where I was headed. I knew what i wanted.

Even though, uncertainty loomed large ahead like black clouds. It was like a bad conscience that I couldn't shake. Yet, for this stretch of time, life had reduced to a singular course. A simple black highway in the dead of the night...

I thought of the past with longing. Memories disturbing as the machine carried me to a fast, corporate life. "Everything happened for a reason." The old battered cliche still seemed to provide a sense of comfort, like a smug, dry home in the middle of the rain. I closed my eyes for a minute from the darkness. Suprisingly, closing them seemed to lighten my path. A million dreams waved from the niches of my mind. The breeze blew against my face and the night hadn't lost its frenzy. I felt the reluctance of my eyes to open. The dreams seemed to beckon me... I fell asleep...

The times always brought in the change. Reluctance came as a nasty side effect. It was like leaving a part of me behind, out into this fast moving world. A world that taught you to love, care.. while you were a child... And taught you to forget what you learned then as you grew.

There was a sudden jolt. I was shaken awake. Something that was so clear in the dream made no sense now. The bus rushed past the city, shops, people and the traffic. Fighting not to get caught in the ambush of vehicles. Flawless and bold in an insane world. A few more moments and it was my stop. My turn. My chance. There was a storm raging in the horizon. The plunge ahead was going to be bizarre, as life had always been. And now, more than ever, there was no turning back.

In an insane world, it was the sanest choice...

I'm home...

The music was blaring away from my speakers. It could no longer be called music. It was noise. The beat seemed to mercilessly batter the walls. My heart bet along as fast as it could, matching the beat. For anyone outside, it made no sense. It could drive them mad, make them lose themselves. It wasn’t something I had heard before, but it made sense to me. Somehow, life was a similar noise sometimes…

The road killed behind me, my past still lingered for me to embrace it and get drowned in it. My eyes closed and the music silenced away. Images passed by my mind, like a dairy of a million pages embedded with memories, photos, tragic moments, pain, happiness, love, lust, weakness and a million other emotions. It reminded me of times I’d cried out for a bit of kindness but the world had turned its face away from me. The sleepless nights on the way to my destiny. The times that I have been backstabbed and still had to wear a smile on my face… I have been mocked, had people talking behind my back, have been humiliated and yet had to walk back in the next day. And many were those days when you felt you had everything but lost it the last moment… The times when people you loved so much simply had to leave… Most people I meet seem to want to find a way to use me, hurt me and throw me away… Why was I this way? Why was life this way? Why was it this endless? Why was it like living a nightmare…? My eyes were tired. Couldn’t keep them open anymore...

“Life doesn’t suck…” My love had told me a year ago…  Whenever I think of her, I smile. Like a mirage in a desert of nothingness…  She’d taught me, a lot of believing in life, in the short time that we were together. She was the happiest part of me, I’d never told her. And the day she left, she told me to move on. But I couldn’t. No… I just wouldn’t. I wanted to enjoy every moment of it again in my mind, like a tape on replay every time it got over. For if love is true and the its truth lied in having to let go, coz she had to go, then what sense would it make if I just moved on and forgot about it in just few days. Whatever we had was beautiful, I wanted it to stay beautiful for a while, but not forever and not be drowned in it…

                There was a sense of gloom that settled in me, probably coz I was resting, doing nothing else, and having nothing else to think about after a long time. There were no running around, no mixed emotions, no strenuous journeys, just my soft bed and me. I couldn’t hear the music anymore, even though it still blared into the room. Coz life was a similar noise sometimes, but I always found a meaning.  I felt a certain sense of weightlessness, a sense of tiredness in my feet, a sense of heaviness of heart. There was a sweet scent in my room that reminded me of someone special. I embraced it.

Life never was a losing battle. Life doesn’t suck.. (Like she had taught me)…  Nothing of it may makes sense at one point, but don’t let go… When I think of it now, looking back, the days were a blur. Some stand out as clear memories to cherish. Some were days of victorious battles and some of disastrous defeats.

And an inner voice seemed to say, ‘there’s more from where that came from…’

True…  The battle has just begun… 

The last stand...

“General…  We need you. Do you copy?”

“General… It’s over. The fort will fall any minute. Orders sir. Do you copy?”

“Repeat! Do you copy?”

“I copy.”  The general replied over the microphone. “ It’s not over till I say its over…”

Pushing away the stones and the part of the wall that had fallen over him in an explosion, the General got up. He looked at the rest of his soldiers lying there beside him covered in blood. The fort had been hit by a shell fired off a tank. The main wall had fallen. They would soon be surrounded. There was no escape, he knew. There wasn’t another day. It would end tonight.

                The fort had been shelled , with large bullet holes covering majority of the walls that were left standing. Bodies lay beneath the ruins, below large pieces of the collapsed ceiling. “Major?” he called out into the microphone, looking for him among the bodies. “Sir…” gasped a marine near his feet. The General bent down towards him, looking at the agony in his eyes. “You did your part well son…”  said the General. He gave the General a half salute before he breathed his last. The General looked away from his face. There was probably noone left. The fort had been wired with enough C4 to take out a whole town. He knew it was the only way or the capital city was at stake. “We either stop them or we die” he told himself.

                There was a bang from a flash granade and for a few moments he couldn’t see anything. He could hear marching. Arming himself and taking as many granades as he could, he stood up. The turrents had finally seemed to stop shelling as their enemies stepped into the fort, or whatever was left of it. There were screams, the General closed his eyes in pain as they walked in shooting the ones who had already fallen and were dying. There were a few coming his way.  “Welcome to hell!” The General exclaimed as he opened fire on them. He was too fast for them to notice. Gripping tight on a granade, he threw it towards a group of them coming towards him. The explosion was tremendous. More people poured in from the unguarded fort entrance.

                He moved deeper into the fort to find the Major and the captain who was little wounded. ”What took you so long General”

“Was a Little preoccupied there…”

“The fort is gonna blow. She can’t take it anymore. We’re outnumbered…! Call for evacuation…” called out a marine near them.

“No!” Said the general. We may be out numbered, but never out manned!

“You with me Major? “ asked the general.

“Ready when you are General...”

“And you, Captain?”

“I thought you’d never ask…”

“There’s a plan. We blow  the fort with the buried C4 and let it take them. We get out the back and hold our stand as long as we can. Are we clear?”

 The clicking of metal rhythmed into the distance as they wreched their guns to load. The night had been endless and so were their enemies…  The General looked at either of them, “Don’t look back. Fight till your last breaths. It’s an honour to have fought by your side… !”  The general plunged into the darkness and they followed…

There were sounds of explosions and heavy gun fire…

(Oh and this was a dream.. :)  )

Caustic...

The station was silent. Only the occasional hustle bustle of people passing by when trains arrived. I sat there on an age withered bench, having reached there only a few moments ago in one of those trains and caught in the ambush of otherwise calm people rushing to get out. It was late. I should be going home. But I had something caught up in me...I wanted to simply sit there and brood over it...

Why was I there again? This typical indecision. Thoughts that need not be watered to sprout; Questions that I wouldn't want to ask, but had to answer... I did not know what was going on in my head. Tired of sitting there or the occasional ambling about the station, I decided to go home. Waiting for a taxi was not an option at an hour so late in the night. I was really tired, could feel the occasional blurring of my vision as I walked out, bent a little under the weight of the bag I carried over my shoulder.

Home was so far away. I longed for the warmth and comfort of my bed. My feet were sore from this race of life. I thought of my cousin bro, who was just 2 years old.  (That’s him in the pic)  The smile that dawned on his face when he saw me, the sparkle in his eyes which weren't ever so tired as mine. Little does he know that everyone is going to expect something or the other from him as he grows up. That he would have his life already planned out for him by someone else. That he would have to live up to what people expected from him, even people who he may have just met only yesterday. 

There was a ringing in my head apart from the sound of vehicles that vroomed past me in their endless quests to reach their destined niches. It had started to rain. The path was far from clear and my hand and shoulders felt numb carrying the heavy bag. Drenched and barely able to walk anymore, I reached the welcoming footsteps of home. My 10 year old cousin ran up to me. I smiled at him as he dragged me to see his new toy. He had hid it from his mom coz he had broken it and wanted me to fix it. It was actually a collection of broken bits that he wanted me to glue together. His eyes were innocently sure I could. For him, there was nothing I couldn't do! Weakly, I smiled again.

Strength was a matter of perspective. For me, it was about being there for everyone who needed me. Doing what they expect of me, for we are all bound by love, by the expectation love brings...  My cousin would call me Iron man. Because I always had a way out of every problem he had. I couldn't survive a 200 rounds from a AK-47 or survive a missile fired off a tank or even fire fancy light thingy (according to him)  from my palm or even have an arc reactor planted in my chest and hope for even lighting a torch bulb with it. But he believes I can. Well yeah, he is only a kid. But the elder were worse off in their expectations, in their own way.

Caustic... this race is and has always been...  My feelings had long been suppressed or eroded in this endless race to make a difference, to try and be something I'm not...  

What was I? I would often wonder. Long lost amongst the ambush of expectations that I have to live up to and the labyrinth of broken dreams, did I ever even matter....?

Mom, I'm hungry... :(

Mmmmm... The sweet taste of bread... Never rejoiced it so much before tonight...

Rewind back to about 2 hours before. There I am trying, getting of my bed and walking up to the wall socket to figure out why my mosquito liquid vaporizer thingy does not work. Well its all lighted up alright and smells good, but it ain't doing a thing against the mosquitos... Damn u! I looked back miserably at the bed and then to my laptop.. Ha! Facebook was calling out to me. Too wide awake to sleep again, there i was chatting with people and commenting of photographs.

It's past three in the night. I tell my online friend to hold on for a minute and i head to the fridge in the kitchen to get something to eat. Oh Christ! Its empty! Only a bottle of water. And I was starving now... I wouldnt wanna tell you how i looked at the time lol :P  I walked up to my room and started on NFS underground (for the nerds, its a racing game guys) on my laptop. 15 mins and i cant even win a race properly (hey i'm usually good at it). oh man! This is getting bad. Sleep? no...! Finally I make up my mind to go to the town. It was 4 and I was hopeful of some shop to open. I get on my bike who (personified) doesnt seemed to start. I did get the message he wanted to give me (man, go walking or something. I'm sleepy!). Well, no denying the cold and rainy weather would put anything to sleep, except me!

Revving him to life, I was cruising along the highway, past giant trucks that made me look like a fly. I was half expecting to be caught by the cops asking me where I was heading to in the night. "Stomach First!" I said to myself. Well I did think that the stalls at the railway station should be open... Guess I wasnt lucky. If my bike could speak, he would have told me, "Wtf? This is why you woke me up? To see the empty railway station?" Somehow, I felt there was a saturation point. Overcome with emotion (hey am not so fussy about food, quit thinking like that !!! Lol), I hit my bike to its stand and slowly sat down on it. Probably thinking I could wait till someone would open some shop...

Standing wasnt comfortable. I was feeling pretty tired too. Sitting on the seat and stretching out, i lay on the bike, with my head against its visor and my legs on the tail light. I was used to lying down and sleeping on bikes when I'd go on long rides. This was gonna be a long night. probably...! Some kind man, pls open ur shop... It was a pleasant night though, now that i was jobless I was starting to notice things around me. Homeless people slept on the pavement and on the steps to the railway station under filthy sheets that kept them warm. Families and nomads who walked around begging for something to push another day in their lives.

My cell phone rang into the silence. It was mom. I tried to sound as cheerful as I could. She sounded wide awake from across the seas. It was late there too. Before she said anything, I blurted out, "Mom i'm hungry..."  "Yeah? I;m having noodles and watching tv!" She said. Her reply was instant. "Nice mom!" I exclaimed. Oh that felt a lot worse now. Grrrrr! Steam gushing from my ears! "No, was joking. woke up thinking about you..." She said. A smile dawned on my face. A few more minutes and she sounded like she could come down here to make me something to eat but I didnt tell her it was so bad. After I hung up, I remembered how at home I'd simply not eat something made specially for me just coz it was not hot enough or coz I was "bored" of it. (hey I was a kid!!! :P) Guess we never realize the value of something till its gone huh?  Hmmm... Oh, I hate memories, they always try to find a weak spot. Drat!

Stretching on my bike, i heard the sound of a shutter being opened! Yay!!!! I looked around for where the sound had come from. Saw one in the distance. Before I knew what i was doing, I was already riding to the shop. I looked at him. Was this a workshop or something? I didnt find anything eatable or drinkable in there... Oh No! No.....!    Hey wait, there's a stove! Yay! "gingerly I asked him, if there was something to eat." Tea and two day old bread! Aha! Perfect. At least he told me honestly it was old. I was at wits end while the water was slowly being boiled and finally i got it to drink. Had this funny feeling that dad was around me, "When did you start eating bread without jam or nutella?" I laughed out. The man stared at me for a few seconds and then turned to his work. Yeah well, I did look like a adrenaline junkey with all the messed up hair and red eyes. But do adrenaline junkeys drink tea? ha.. Whatever...

I bought the rest of the packet of bread and paid the man a little extra and he smiled at me as I rode away... When i was home, I thought, outside in the rain and cold, where my fellow humans slept homeless (I'd make a good humanitarian huh? or a philosopher? I would have. Computer science ruined me... Lol.. ) and men ran shops to earn so that their children could sleep warm at home, I felt a lot smaller in life... And a lot satisfied even if it was 2 days old bread lying on my table.

I sat down by my bed... I looked up at the wall socket and thought... The sweet taste of 2 day old bread... Never rejoiced it so much before tonight... If only that stupid mosquito liquid vapourizer thingy had worked properly................!  Funny way life teaches u things... :P

Keep reading guys!!!!! :D 

Life, along the years...

If it hadnt been for cotton eyed joe,

I'd be married long time ago... 

Where did you come from

Where did you go

where did you come from cotton eyed joe!

hay hay hay hay, hay hay hay!!!

Well, thats a techno country song from a band called Rednex. Its half past 11 in the night and i'm having some serious volume on the deck with this song. I still remember the first time i heard the song, a few years back. My dad heard it and developed an instant hating to it. It was like some sort of allergic reaction for his ear drums. Whenever i played it, it made him angry. (Devil smiley here). I loved the song. Dunno how many of you guys actually hate it like my dad, well this entry isnt about the song. So keep reading. :) 

It became a routine for me to play the song everyday morning when i woke up to go for school. And the bad news for my dad was, the old tape i had, had the same song repeatedly recorded over and over again and plus I had a speaker connection to the bathroom. (no kidding k, I'm very known for having audio equipment in the bathroom, even now :P) But well, dad never said anything to me, even though the song was so loudly blaring into the otherwise silent home. Well dont ask me, why this song, well i guess it never made me feel sleepy. lol.. I hated waking up in the morning and was usually late. Thats why I switched to travelling to school by van instead of bus, coz i always missed the bus. And i even walked to school once, am very well known for walking for about 2hours and 20 mins. :) true story, no lies... 

And the van people, well, my poor dad would go outside and tell them to wait... (devil smiley again)

Ok, coming back to waking up in the mornings. I my bathroom, there used to be a big mirror and a small ceramic stand just below the mirror. I would go stand near the mirror and put my hands on the stand and then rest my head on it and sleep, standing right there. Time would slow down, the silence would engulf me. I'm walking by this small but beautiful street and there is this building where there lives a girl who I've never seen before. But i know she is there. She puts her head out of the window as i stare at her and she smiles, so shy to even look into my eyes. As i continue to look, she says something. I dont understand. I try and ask her to speak loudly. And she says something again. I try to make out what it is. 630. what was it? 630...  eh? errr? Wha???? There is a loud bang heard nearby and another loud 6:30. I snap... Oh God, was that mom or dad at the door? If its dad, i'm dead when i get out of the bathroom. I scream out, "whats the time?" to get someone to reply. Ha!! Its mom! But its 6:30. Probably the van is just outside home. Not again...

And there is this super cool brushing and yeah of course sitting on the closet and then super speed bath and i'm out at 6:40. Yay! home free... And things changed once i bot the song in. You'd probably know why if you have heard the song. I used to get to the bathroom but still was late coz i'd spend sometime dancing to the beat. And finally when i go, i'd not switch the tape off. Coz i'd wanna hear it till i get outside the house. And thats when finally, my angry dad tells mom, switch tat damn thing off! Well, he'd never tell me anything. Guess thats what makes him him! 

And well, the whole thing, why did i come to it all now. Simple, coz i'm miles away from home and am listening to the song. The only thing that changed is that dad laughs when i play the song now. see, thats what happens when you play something too many times. And finally to the point, I just miss home...

This room is really faintly lit. Its miles away and years away from the home i told you about. It was past the gate when i was leaving mom and dad and coming here to do my higher studies, that i first saw my mom crying. She doesnt cry for anything, or i've never seen her do that. I rememberm how i had told my room and all the gadgets in my room a final goodbye. Coming here, this room, where i'm now, was so different. It didnt hold my scribblings and my extra electrical fittings and all... And over the years, i had tried a lot to make this one at least resemble that one. Yeah, well after all the holes i managed to drill in, it looks kinda similar! Lol! And this has become another diary page of my life. Though sitting here, I would always miss home, mom and dad, bro, this is still another home. 

Why am i bragging? Coz this is another page that is to be turned. Parting and goodbye is imminent, with the place, with the house (called fort mafia) and my favourite room. The faint light adds to the beauty, rather mess that is in my room. Coz you probably cant see its messy in the dark. Its all sweet and nice.. lol... The late night study time with friends, sitting and studying , even joking, laughing, playing, gaming and so many things.. While one guy is busy studying, the other is busy getting his ear phones soldered coz he slept on it last night and the other is busy dyeing his hair, even God does not known why and the rest are dancing in the bathroom with loud music (dont ask why)... 

And there are pictures. to remind you of all the crazy things you did at a point in ur life. Only pictures and memories. Only now, as i walk around, it feels so empty. No more lose papers lying around (coz i had to clean it up before handing it over to the owner)  and no more unclean dusty corners, no more huge huge spiders in deadly sticky webs watching you sleep and probably thinking about biting ur ass... no more unclean toilets (ya, i know tats kinda gross, everyone's lazy though!) and so many things thats just not there... just not going to be there... 

I still remember those late nights when we were so hungry after sitting up and studying... we'd walk to the nearby shop to have over salted omelet (well tats the way these people here make it) and where all of us 10 guys would be fighting for a few slices of bread. But it used to fill our stomachs. We used to be satisfied in the finger dipped tea (yea, u know the way they bring it to us on the road side shops, i call it multitasking.. perhaps a lil dirty version though), we never had our tables wiped.. the wooden roof of the shop might be leaking in the rain and the wind shaking it threateningly. We never needed a dolby system to enjoy, just that small radio in the shop was enough for us to sing along. And the kerosene lamps hung up would attract all the insects to us, yet the warmth it gave was a heaven against the cold. 

i even think i'll miss the insects i loved killing....:)

Even the sleep all huddled up together with about 8 guys in a room, be it in the cold night or a tired day at college, it was always the same. And yeah, thats how we once broke my bed cot. But later it was screwed and fastened to the wall :) we never give up do we? lol! 

Somehow, the years have passed, we never had a record.. nor a diary entry (we were lazy!) and we never thought any of the dum things would actually be worth remembering. My life, over the years... From school to college..and now done with college too... i'm still crazy.. always gonna be one i guess. :)

And here i am, during the last few days. flicking through photographs and slam books... listening to the one song that made me think of all this now... 

If it hadnt been for cotton eyed joe,

I'd be married long time ago... 

Where did you .....

.........

it aint a nostalgic song.... but go ahead and try it.. happy listening! lol!!!!

Oh and i forgot, got a viva exam tomorrow.. I'll keep in touch!

It remains just a blog...

It was a sweet Saturday afternoon. They’d slept in late. Sitting up in bed, he held her hand, as she smiled at him, the same way she would when she would watch him sleep sometimes. She pushed him off the bed asking him to have a bath, playfully kicking him on the bottom as he whined like a small kid. He hurried through with washing himself, eager to get back to her. Half expecting her to still be lazily huddled up in bed, he came back to the bedroom. Not finding her there, he walked up quietly to the window upstairs. She stood there, still in her robes, innocent like a kid who had seen a butterfly. 

The gentle breeze seemed to love the ruffles of her sweet scented hair. She was beautiful, he thought. Walking up behind her, he put his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. She slowly rested her head against his, not at all surprised by his unannounced arrival. She knew he would, like always. And they would just stand here, feeling the breeze, watching the small birds fly around the courtyard below. She loved the warmth of his chest against her back, it always made her feel protected, and it always had the answers to everything that ever troubled her.

“Honey, I’m starving…” he whispered in her ears. She almost mouthed the words as he said them; she knew this was coming too. Smiling at him and turning and hugging him, she kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll go see if the TV is working”, he said to her. She gave him her typical nod that said ‘Lazy bum’.  She came down dressed up and walking down to the hall, she found a small note by her purse. It said, “Just going out to get something for you. Be ready for a surprise.”  She walked into the kitchen to make some breakfast though it was a bit too late for that. “We’re so crazy”, she thought.

An hour later, he came home and found her waiting at the dining table, probably angry, yet eager to know what the surprise was. She didn’t seem to look up at him as he came in. He sat beside her, looking into her eyes as she tried to evade his. She couldn’t help but smile. Slowly they breakfasted, talking about the weirdest things and laughing their heads off over stuff that only they could find to be funny. Though she kept demanding about the surprise, he kept mum, to an extent that she actually believed that he had simply made it all up.

“Why don’t we dance?” he asked her all of a sudden when they had got back to their room. She didn’t know what to say. She had only seen stuff like this in the movies. But she was sure that it was his first experience too. As the music softly wove into the silence of the day, they danced, more like they hugged and moved silently. The cool floor seemed to tickle her or it was his arms that were wrapped around her, she felt all funny... He slowly knelt beside her, smiling deeply. Kissing her hand, he took a small ring from his pocket. She stood still, smiling down at him with tears in her eyes. “I know you can’t decide now. It’s a long way from here. But I just want you to know, you’re mine.”  He slipped the ring onto her finger. He stood up and held her tightly. And they kissed… 

My first ever...

 Yeah you guessed right, this is all about the hello, aloha, greetings people!

They say, there is a first time for everything... Ha well, its me and the first time with me blogging! :) Well yeah, read a lot of them over the years... Maybe I'll just make this short and sweet... Dont wanna bore u right in the start! :P lol.. 

SO just gonna say a lil about me... Well, if u actually asked me to describe myself in one word, CRAZY would be the best one! Walking down the streets of life, I've picked up a lot of stuff, the harsh, the cold and even sometimes a warm shoulder. They say that the world used to be a much better place. But the world is still the same, only that there is less in it... Far too much were those times i enjoyed watching the sea with my friend and singing rhymes, well, only that the sea is still there, and those rhymes forgotten and either of us entwined in our own lives... 

Brevity be it, sometimes the reason for such a rush, coz there be no time to watch the flowers smile, to sit lost watching the sunset or simply to even say thank u... For after all its a race to get all that you want... :) This is my side of it, am someone who still takes time to watch the slow things in life. Believe me wen i say I have far more pressing things to do, yet, it feels good to sit by the sea side, sipping on some beer and watch the sunset and enjoy the faint drizzle without having a single worry in the world..

 Only that worrying about anything is a matter of perspective & depends on the sorta person you are. And even acceptance is, like you wanna watch it all from behind a glass window or be out there, all upto u....! 

And there we come to the paradox, i wanted to keep this short... That be all mateys! for now that is... I'm sure to get back when my head's got something in the entwined cabling of its circuitry... Life is story told by some idiot. So keep reading!!!!