Monday, September 1, 2014

The foothills of love

"Where am I ? Did I sleep little too much, is this really an indian location, people do look indian, but the cleanliness, the ambience is way too different from other tourist destination - not that they are bad or so"  simi said to herself balancing here thoughts in a debating manner as she has always done ever since she knew herself and looked around to see "Welcome to yatri nivas, Premanchal". She was indeed in India, just at the foothills of love....

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Simi closed her eyes for a moment and caressed them with her fingers as if asking them to sleep now. When she finally opened them, she could observe the sky out of her window changing its hue from pitch black and shiny stars to faded bluish black tinge and the stars slowly dissapearing as if someone was putting off the lights one by one. She kept her gaze fixed on quite a few and it indeed seemed that someone had carefully desiniged the turning off mechanism. It lasted a few minutes, by which the hue had changed to orange red specifically at one side of the hills - while the other side was slow to catch up. It was mesmerizing to see the forest of the hills clearly being demarcated by the a dark line with was sqeezing every minute as if the army of the luminous brilliance was cornering that of the ignorant unknown. She had seen the mornings before, she was often up till wee hours of the morning but never had occured to her before that darkness in itself does not exist, it is just the absence of the light. Ignorance in itself does not exist, it is the absence of knowledge - The hollowness in her does not exist by itself, it's just the absence of someone to complete her and she was missing the one whose hands had carefully painted each of her eye lashes in the one picture infront of her - just her eyes gazing at something or someone, she wouldnt know. She wished if she could know the entire story behind each of her paintings drawn by him - it sure had to have one.

She felt an inqusitiveness, an utter desire to discover herself through the eyes of the one who she wanted so much to keep away once. She went over each of the paintings slowly running her fingers over the lines and bold strokes as if painting them all over again - and her alarm rang, making her realize it was already 6:00. She just had an hour to get ready. She was amused first and still suprised - who does an interview at 7:30 in the morning. She had asked the secretary and had got a poilite reply -  " Sir does and if it doesn't suit you, please wait for 15 days".

Simi got ready in 15 min - hardly ever took time and was in the office at 7:15 am. It was the curvy roads and a 2 km trek to the office which had taken so  much time. She could have taken the battery powered golf carts but instead, she wanted to walk and discover the place a bit before she could talk to "Sir". 

The small wooden office had an exquisite look, that of a spa and resort with lot of open spaces. she was standing in the waiting room overlooking valley from its balcony, when the secretary called her name - simi, would you please go in ? 

"Please make yourself comfortable" - Simi looked up."Sir" seemed more interested in the view out of his window and didnt actually look like what she was expecting at least not with his back facing him. He looked much younger than her expectations.

Simi continued in her customary tone - " Thank you Sir, for an opportunity to connect to India''s biggest architectural magazine............" , when she was cut short - you have 15 min, come to the point -I know all about you guys and you.

Simi felt weird with his curt reply, not expecting her pleasantries to be cut down so sharply. 

"Sir, I see you have built the place with lot of love ....." she tried to do a small talk and continue the conversation. 

"What do you know about love Simi" - pat came the reply.

It was enough for Simi. She got up and said - what do you mean, this time in an agressive tone, her eyes furious with someone being judgemental about her, only to have felt dialation of the pupil and racing of the heart as "Sir" turned around - It was Omi or was he not -a definite look alike and she was losing her breath.......






Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Deja Vu

She had to pack her bags and move to a tourist spot called "preetanchal",  the latest heartthrob of north India, developed in the last 10 years. She had to cover the latest architectures in the region for her cover story. While packing her bags she thought to herself - strange name for a relatively modern and upcoming tourist vacation. It meant - the mountain of love, that's all she knew.
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" Preetanchal k liye yahan utar jaayen, .... O madam, appko preetanachal jaana tha na....", Simi opened her eyes to two gruesome looking eyes and moustache. The moustache blended into the beard and struck terribly odd on his small face as if a tomb on a slender, tall highrise building. Another "O madam" and she was fully awake, cognizant of the fact the the entire set of onlookers were almost questioning her with her eyes, including the driver who had turned sideways and was honking even though the bus was stand still. Simi quickly resurrected her off shite long t-shirt and grabbed her bag and water bottle resting on her legs for a long while now and inquisitively walked to the front exit while she heard the moustached conductor say - "yeh tho le jaiye", she turned back to take her black file, she had carried everywhere she travelled. "Pahle hi aapke karan bus 15 min late ho gayi, ab yeh choot jata tho dene aana padta" and she smiled and said "Thank you, nahi main aa jaati!", pressed the file to her bosom with one hand, tagged her bad on her shoulder and stepped down from the bus. She had always been carrying that file whenever she travelled, reminded her of her lost love - reminded her of Him, through his sketches.  She would never take his name - it made her shiver to her core, glad and teary at the same time.

As she stepped down from the bus, she breathed heavily the gush of fresh air, the smell of soil with cold morning air, very familiar, very fresh. Simi didnt remember when was the last time she had slept so peacefully and had such deep sleep, no wonder, the peace around was contagious and freshness of the country side of course is always sleep friendly. Wait a moment, though, there was something more in this place. "It looks so ....... whats the word, familiar, have i been here before" and simi just smiled at understanding the true meaning of deja vu when her thoughts were interrupted by the three wheeler riskshaw puller's honking, although this one from a simple rubber instrument fixed to his handle, which made a dampening sound as the air through the small rubber orifice came gushing out due to the applied pressure of his hand.

"Kahan chalna hai madam !", Simi was blank for a moment ..."Prem anchal"....."Haan..." Simi was so lost today, didnt know why, may be something to do with the air or may be she slept a lot. Simi boarded the rick and instructed the rickshaw puller to go to 'yatri nivas', the official guest house of Shivam architectures, the guys majorly responsible for the development of the tourist site premanchal. As the rickshaw took speed, Simi noticed that this was not it wasn't a purely mechanical one, it was a blended model - battery and mechanical, something she had seen in newspaper recently. However, never expected it to ride on it and that too in an offbeat tourist location.

She got down and asked for the charge and was indicated to see the meter. She was little surprised and paid up. The inquisitive guard standing at the gate said - "madam u can take your tour card from the office and you can swipe it anywhere even on my rickshaw, proudly pointing at the a small card reader on the handle bar. you dont need to carry cash anywhere, not even at fruit stall".

"Where am I ? Did I sleep little too much, is this really an indian location, people do look indian, but the cleanliness, the ambience is way too different from other tourist destination - not that they are bad or so"  simi said to herself balancing here thoughts in a debating manner as she has always done ever since she knew herself and looked around to see "Welcome to yatri nivas, Premanchal". She was indeed in India, just at the foothills of love.....


Saturday, June 28, 2014

The clock ticks!

"Adieu Om Sharma" - gestured Om with a salute on the name plate on the gate. Of course he did not know what next ...............
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Love is a very strange thing, I don't even know if it can be called a thing - sometimes love is the destiny and like every thing destined it does come to you someday or the other. People still fail to recognize it and live their life in oblivion. 

Not with Simi; 8 long years and she had not forgotten someone's eyes which at times looked so torturous. Soon after Omi had left, Rahul had told him very casually - "Thank you Simi, you made my life so easy all over again and I am sorry I had to use you to get Omi out of my life. I love your company but I don't love you. Please let me know if you want to keep a casual relationship, nothing serious though. I can hang out with you one complete day whenever you want, however you want. You are always on my safe side". This was her 21st birthday - one year exactly when Omi had left. 

Simi, in the midst of her placement season, was devastated with this revelation. She didn't know what to do, just knew that all her love and feelings had just been mocked and conspired against. Rahul had also sent him some burnt paintings signed, "with love" from Rahul. It has Omi's name written on the paintings. Simi, then just knew that she had lost her Rahul, the heartthrob of the college to some other new girl on the block. 

Simi remembered, she wanted to blast at Rahul, but somehow in the placement frenzy and her sadness, she just kept quite. The day when she finally got placed into a top MNC, she chose not to celebrate but just be in her room and her eyes fell on the envelope - with love Rahul. The sketches inside were exact replica of her moods in the last few years - one of them had captured her moist eyes in library while the other had her smile perfectly portrayed. Simi looked at herself in the mirror and back at the sketches. She felt good. She flipped through all the copies and each of them had increased the curvature of her lips.

She filed all of them in a file and stood near her balcony, the weather which was slightly cloudy and gloomy since morning, had started to drizzle. She loved rains and for the first time in the last month, she felt like smiling again. 

"8 years and still so fresh in my memory .........." and the thoughts were interrupted by the phone call.  Another assignment; life had been crazy since she started writing about Indian architecture. Her work experience and love for ancient and modern Indian architectures had made her pursue this career and she was doing exceedingly well at it. 

She had to pack her bags and move to a tourist spot called "preetanchal",  the latest heartthrob of north India, developed in the last 10 years. She had to cover the latest architectures in the region for her cover story. While packing her bags she thought to herself - strange name for a relatively modern and upcoming tourist vacation. It meant - the mountain of love, that's all she knew.

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

About AAP, U turns, common sensical 2 cents and why you should still survive !


I am sick of your posts on taking your foot back in your mouth with every step you take. You started off well and somewhere u got greedy - you had everything a rookie could desire in indian polity. You had stalwarts and top business minds with you but still you failed because of lot of bad moves - sometimes reminding me of old days Indian Cricket with best batting line up and yet failing time and again.I am sure if you just stick around a little bit more, may be 5 years, work on the ground, contest in smaller level elections and do good work and that too quietly, it shall have more impact in the long term. However it seems u just want to hog all that you can and at one go. Believe me, the doctors advise against this , the economist too - don’t be a greedy fool.
Its time to get back to Mother Teresa foundation - finish the internship, connect to the people who have labelled u as fraud and try and change perception.You have lost your credibility Mr. Kejriwal. Try and bring it back. Taking u turn again and again and trying to form delhi govt with Congress may be a quick win but will hurt in the long run.I know you won’t be reading this blog and you don’t need to. Its just common sense which you should work with and which is so much at want in your actions.

However the moves u made - irrational policies with 3 months validity, not needed showoff or dharna in Delhi while in power, no security gag , no house gaga, throwing off your wicket on first bouncer saying - its too fast a ball. What did u think "sarkaar chalana bacchon ka kaam hai". It needs a lot of patience, diplomacy and thoughtfulness. Post that trying to play on 442 seats - first election 442 seats - no wonder u dint have funds. Did I miss that you did not speak a word against congress when in power in delhi, the basis of whose corruption laid the foundation of all your speeches earlier. This is another step which will be detrimentalfor you in long run but I still hope you form a govt in Delhi with congress support which I think u will and work hard there, trylearning balance and work your way up.
Still why don't I hate you!

You did one good - highlighted the need for change and brought together youth of this country and the urgency to change but then showed yourself as a talking cuckoo, an inexperienced and definitely who doesn’t know how to run a govt. In fact it felt as it you just wanted to get hit wicket coz u wanted to prepare for the IPL of loksabha. Your reasons may be different but that is how it reflected on the delhites who voted u to majority, india who watched u as a new role model and youth who saw u as a panacea for corruption.

The only reason I want you survive is because I want democracy and not monopoly. We have had 60 years of monopoly and we had enough of it. Not only a good government but a strong opponent is also required to make the democracy work. And I wish you become that before you seek to become the supreme party, else there would be no end to your U Turns. All the best!!!

Img Source 



Monday, April 21, 2014

Finding me !!!

The last couple of months have been tough. I have not been able to find myself all these days. Chances are that I might have been lost - lost in what ? Good question but I am so lost that I don't even know where I am. It is like the train station in Matrix where Neo is stranded alone or in simple parlance a void between living and being extinct.
I am keeping myself away from the story board because I don't know what form my words may take. I am not a writer. I just am someone who just has one story. One beautiful story which has always been close to his heart. I don't know how much or when can I do justice to that story but I must do that someday.
As of now, Amrit is recovering from a terrible loss - a loss of his own self which actually is a dated event but like some wounds which show up late.... this too has taken up a decade to surface. Had I known that it would hurt so much and not just to myself but also to the loss I would have definitely prevented it. They say that all is well that ends well. But some things are meant never to end. They are with u life long.... In person or in thoughts. I love my thoughts because sometimes they are so beautiful and never want them to end.....and  for omi and simi ....don't worry...They are fine...just coming back to life...

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Imagining reality (contd..)

Somehow the pillow couldn't cover those A4 sheets of sketches and with little effort and help from the fan, the sketches had come out of the force holding them and floated around the room on the floor and Omi was making no effort to hold them back - not even the masterpiece.
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"Masterpieces do  not always make it to the Louvre, most beautiful minds are found in lying in the graves so does most love stories. Why does it have to be a happy ending to every story...why does it have to be that the may the best man win, sometimes not, infact many a times it is the other way round ...." - penned Om while reflecting on the past year.

Rahul and Simi were officially going out together and it rarely mattered if Rahul was the heartthrob of the college and Omi was a witness to many other acquaitances with whom Rahul had a platonic relationship with. But it hardly mattered - isnt it ? Omi had seen many a love cards from Simi embracing the dust amongst other cards and he had often cleaned them and kept it on Rahul's table - afterall it was an expression of his Simi's love - so what if it had Rahul's name written all over it.

It was not that Omi didn't try to tell Simi about the acrobatic skills of Rahul. He still remembered his first and last conversation with Simi 

Simi: Yes Sir, you called me in the library ( Sir was a common way to address seniors)

Omi was again tongue tied to speak anything and while he could mustering courage and deviating himself from watching her flickering eyelashes and her inquisitive eyes, simi blasted at him 

Simi: Listen cheapo, Rahul has told me all about you, and you are nothing more than a lady ogling sick mind. and i didn't want to come, Rahul said i must go, so i am here (she had already told it to Rahul) and i know you are his so called brother but you have already hurt him a lot and i hate you looking at me all the time and just the way you are seeing me right now ...and she turned to go back

Omi: Listen Simi..... Rahul is not the right guy for you

Simi: Who the hell are you to tell me that ? and dont't ever get in touch with me again. I HATED you but now I hate you even more.

That was the time when Omi had failed in all the subjects in his architecture class and was officially a dropout from the best college in Delhi. 

The last 4 seasons had seen the downfall of the once so promising kid that it would make people believe that Omi had pshycological problem and he saw the pshyciatrist and was diagnosed with severe depression. Little did the doctor know, often zilted love and depression have the same symptoms. For hours, Omi would be lying on his bed looking at the ceiling obstructed by the view of the running blades of the fan. The medicines had calmed all his senses, including the beautiful ones and meaning of life was restricted to food, walk and sleep. It seemed he had no interest in anything else now. 

Off late, he had been writing logs of his thoughts just for himself. It had helped him more than the meds but the doctor would not agree. However, it was torturous for him to see Rahul playing with Simi. He did try to talk to Rahul once and it only did make matters worse. It was months they had talked even if as common courtesy. 

Mr Sharma was too busy being the director of archaelogical survey of India and in excavating the medieval past could not look at the blistering present. Not his fault though, he had given Omi as much as he could and Omi didn't share quite a lot with Dr. Sharma, Rahul was making him proud everyday with his results and bright shimmering career ahead. 

" I truly feel i don't belong here..........., Please do not look for me, I shall take care of myself" were his last words, when Omi packed his bags completing the letter. printed two copies and kept it on Rahul's bed and slipped it under Dr. Sharma's home office. 

Yes, they would feel bad including Rahul - but this is the best thing to do .. Omi thought, while he slid automatic door, opened the  front iron gate, looked one time at the modest government yellow house, which had been his abode for the last 8 years. 

"Adieu Om Sharma" - gestured Om with a salute on the name plate on the gate. Of course he did not know what next ...............

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Imagining reality (Contd..)

As Omi wiped his face with the tissue, a million thoughts entered his mind - all the happy ones....

He took a deep breath to calm his thoughts or may be to breathe the love in the air
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The air had grown cold of late - the winter was seeming trying to pervade the hot and dusky afternoons of Delhi and the delhi heat was finally giving in. Seasons are beautiful, unlike thoughts they know when to come and when to depart - thoughts on the other hand do not seem to have any such definitive rule; what would otherwise explain the examination hall scene of everyone ardently working with their rulers and pencil creating wonders of architecture, mostly for those 1-100 digits which somehow they think makes life  - marks i mean and one guy sketching something to do with long hairs on the answer sheet. It's the thoughts , isnt it ? Some times the distinction between imaginary and reality is very thin - Have you ever experienced that may be the imaginary is real and the real is by far imaginary ? Never mind, you need to be captivated by something strong to make sense of the above - something like love - something like Omi is right now, sketching the long hair and moist eyes to in an answer to showcase an example of gothic structure. 

The last six months had been tumultous for Omi. No she failed to recognize him,and all his deliberate attempts of showing himself up at canteen, library and coffee machines had been in vain and worst of all - he still couldnt talk to her. However, he had discovered his new talent of sketching her and that is where he had excelled in the last six months. His interest of architecture was scaling new heights with exploring the god's creation and any other man made structure didn't impress him as much. How impractical and stupid - that's what his friends would tell him, although he hadn't disclosed the whereabouts of Simi. While others would be dreaming of cushy jobs and travelling the world two years later, Omi would restrict his world only to her - yes stupid may be. But often practicality and love are at poles apart when one is in love.

Exams were over and Omi was lying on his bed in his room going over the sketches he had made of Simi in the last 6 months  - there she is with the hearty laugh, her eyes glistening and her smile beautifully captured, then there is other one intently studying in the library , with her ardent enemy, the pencil being mauled between her lips; but his favorite one was when he had watched her at the corner of the cricket stadium overlooking the pond, leaning slightly over the steps and the wind playing gleefully with her hair and her eyes fixed at something in the void. Omi had got a very scornful eye glance when she had noticed him looking at her.Nevertheless, its a small price for a master piece.

While in these thoughts, the door bell had rang twice. Omi hastily woke up to see the door, putting all his sketches on the bed and throwing a pillow over it. 

"Hey Brother, so much time to open door, were you climbing on the tree "  - Omi ignored , he was used to Rahul's comments often made on his beginnings , but what he couldn't ignore was Simi standing behind Rahul opening her sandals and slightly bent to ease the effort. 

Omi rushed back to his room and shut the door !

Rahul said -" don't mind, he is my so called weirdo bro.. !"

Somehow the pillow couldn't cover those A4 sheets of sketches and with little effort and help from the fan, the sketches had come out of the force holding them and floated around the room on the floor and Omi was making no effort to hold them back - not even the masterpiece.







The Broken Arrow!

Ana could not believe herself.17 years, 3 months and 2 days is what it had taken life to come full circle for her. Still vivid in her memoir...