Friday 30 March 2012

The grass is always greeener on the other side...

They once asked a man, "What is that you love the most?"
Given the fact that he was torn into tethers, had no morsel for two days and saw nothing as important as a place to rest, he replied ''It is indeed cruel on you part, dear to weigh me down me with the obscurities of life for I know you are no blind man, for I know you have the perfect two ears, for I know you smile seeing me..."
Saying this, he went afar, never to return to the spot again. The only thing that remained lunging in that dark, humid corner of the central park in the heart of the city was a young chad, probably 40 years of age...with his tweed jacket aimlessly hanging around his shoulders, his mittens finding their place beside him on the bench (for it was a Calcutta winter that needed nothing of that preparation...). 
 It was 10 at night when he drove away the helpless looking man and I as a silent observer of the scene thought wondrously, "Although the older of the two seems to me a beggar, of whatever little knowledge I have of human appearances, what made the younger lad, impeccably dressed and seemingly gay, do there at that odd hour of the night?”
With the night strengthening its hold over the city and the creatures of the dark finding their rightful niches, Minto Park soon turned into a bazaar, the nature of which is better untold and best deduced. Since, my daily rounds of cards got over (humbug!! Rajnish hooked up a silly maiden and Babu preferred sleeping in the promenade) I was like a serpent drawn to the music of the enchanter, drawn to the earlier mentioned conversation between the old man and the strange looking sahib.
The biggest joke that life plays on you is that, when you have not the best looks, the best clothes and the aid of a warm wallet, it seems to you that the costliest treasure you possess, your intellect is also long drawn from you. In the prime of my years, I would have probably walked up to the tweed-jacketed man and asked him plainly about his untimely visit to the park but however, owning to my current disposition, which was nothing better than that of a slime dweller, the aforementioned, seemed alien talk!
He looked possessed, probably not the best word to describe a human, especially in a setting when science got over everything else (and trust me, I myself am an ardent patronizer of the ideals)...the look he had in his orbs, is something that no words, except for the ones that bring in Satan into discussion, can describe! What crimson eyes he had...I in my life that revolved around Park Street and Minto Park had seen many a drunken lads...abusing their partners, fondling recklessly with a bosom or two...some happy and some happily destroyed. However, this man was one that I could not read into...who had by just a simple question made someone, who in the wake of sensibility shouldn't even be distantly related to him, run away lest be probed again.
I felt an immense upsurge in me, very wayward of the kind of life I dealt then and it was this unsettling apparition that fanned in me the quench to know more. In a normal setting like this, for it was not new for people to act bizarre in this part of the city, I would have certainly returned home. However, there was something that kept tugging at me like the ghosts of the past pinning me affix and I suddenly found it impossible to take even a step away from the bench where the chap sat cladding his mittens and sunken in some great tragedy that even my seasoned eyes could not catch.
It was like a bolt from the blue when I realized that the person possessing the faculty of my thoughts at that moment was actually looking me straight and in a similar setting, with those crimson eyes and flushed cheeks, expected a response!
Taken aback by this sudden nakedness, I started fidgeting, totally unsure of the next course of my actions and like a discordant mistress lulled by the tantalizing persona of the master gave away to my earlier inhibitions and forwarded.
This did not seem a problem to him, unlike what I thought and like an ant longing for a leaf to keep it afloat, the chap broke into ceaseless tears. “Hell! What I am supposed to do”, I said to myself but my muffled words only reassured him in the best possible manner they could.
They often say that you find solace in the strangest of the places and who would have ever thought that the CEO of my one time company would now be sitting right beside me, singing the muffled song of the pained heart, sharing the same portico as mine and wanting not a file, not even a shaky deadline but just a hushed assurance that his life was not a waste and that the man he just drove away was all right.
I might have told the readers, all at one go, but during the small talk I had with him he opened his heart out to me. It was during this time that I got to know that the same man, who was responsible for my condition today, was now trailing along with me on the dark esplanades of life, the details of which are best reserved for another day.
Seeing the man I hated the most, wriggle with the scorn of infidelity, I almost forgot what drew me closer. Yes! The older man that we started the narrative with, came back ghastly to my mind and without a single moment’s delay I bumped into him the question.
What I got back in return is something that has been haunting me till date. While the years count 20 on my wrinkled, age-worn talons; I still am in no power to react! The young CEO bluntly responded…”Of all the wrongs that I did the biggest felony was made by him! He breathed life into a monster. HE WAS MY FATHER!”

Tuesday 27 March 2012

LIFE; Popcorn bites PART 2


Of all the things that seem to be complicated, deciding whether you wish to forget or cling on it, is the toughtesetsestesetesestest....no matter how long I make those recurring sets of 'est..' no word can express the magnitude of my distress....how hard is it to read your own mind when finishing volumes of Dan Brown is a butterfly kiss???

 I look for companionship with a high hope to get at least one in the days to come but how on earth is that going to happen when I end up toking to each one about how happy (even the sad part) was I with my past flame...the clock ticks its way back to normalcy, my chiseled heart yearns for the same...I want it all to end...


image courtesy :www.PathToSeek.blogspot.com

Monday 26 March 2012

Life; popcorn bites...


When has the world been a ‘right’ place to live? It is indeed the best way to live your life without thinking about the adversities and just hanging onto it until it drops and you land up somewhere else you never thought.


Although leading a carefree and spontaneously decided life has its share of fun, insane fun to be precise, there are also several cons related to it that you cannot avoid in any case. 
From a great deal of indecisiveness to accidental deadlocks, life is always a matter of chance, no matter how well planned or how well messed up you be! :) :) 

so, in a situation of no gain no loss as this, is it not best to flip back everything to the back burners and enjoy life as if it were your last day alive?? :) :) 
kudos to life

Sunday 25 March 2012

…. And when the heart becomes a stone….



I turn a deaf’s ear to the world…
A blind man’s picture…
A dumb’s song…
Shutting up myself in a coop,
Inaccessible to any good feelings,
Maneuvering through my thoughts, that are now trickling down-
Drop by drop into a dead land,
A no man’s land…
I go round and round...
 Thinking hard…
Calculating… analyzing… erasing…
And thinking again…

The agony of a loner’s heart…



In life there comes a time, a time when each day I have to shout... 
Stand up and scream… 
scream for my individuality… for my vent.. For my living… 
And yes! For my love!!!

You make me hollow… 
you take away my life, my heart… my soul… 
Wasn’t this life meant to be beautiful with you by my side? 
Wasn’t I supposed to be shed anymore? 
Hadn’t I already lived my share of prejudices… my share of agonies… my share of bloodshed?

… And in life there comes a time when I have to stand up and shout… but this time, I am no victim…
In life there comes a time when each day I have to stand up and shout…

This is ME damn it! I look the way I look! Think the way I think! Feel the way I feel… love the way I love… take me or leave me... love me or WALK AWAY... !!!

Saturday 24 March 2012

My unsung desires



I long to be in your arms,
I long to look deep in your eyes…
I long to intervene my little finger with yours.
I long to talk to you for hours at a stretch…
I long to meet you,
I long to greet you, “good morning honey”…
I long to fight with you for not texting me in the past one hour…
I long to confide in you…
I long to get you back as my only support system…
I HATE to search for alter ways to appease myself.
I long to be the luckiest girl…
long to be the one who pleased you…
 I long to get thin and back to the ‘me’ you had loved...
I long to get back to the ‘me’ who deserved you…
I HATE being the ‘me’ who is as ugly as the prawn...
I long to see you feel good about being ‘mine’…
I long to get that place I once had in your heart…
I long to fight with you sheepishly…
I long to make it up to you after those fights…
I long to forget my world in your aura…
I long to see you be eager and willing to meet me, talk to me, make me feel special...
 I long for….
YOUR LOVE…
I long to be your LIFE…YOUR FRIEND…

Friday 9 March 2012

*****Colorificious Holi *****

Not the ideal most time to jot this down I feel but then when has the youth been lawfully right??
Haha…n yet again I trail off in a total opposite direction, snubbing the topic in hand :P
<Slap> <slap>…n I come back!!
Holi…well since it almost customary to write about the festival at hand, I sit and think, struggling to churn out something about this color bloom festival!! 
Ya that also reminds me that it is holi here today and unlike the previous years I am left all alone, friend bereft and thus, take up this task of writing for my ‘new-found love’ ..Blogging!! :P

To start things, lemme give you some insights about holi reminds me of and what I have been missing all this morning.

Back in Bokaro (oh! That is my hometown) holi was never like it is today and without an exaggeration was my favorite festival with mum and dad and tons of frnds to spice things up. I very well remember that the day started pretty early for me and the fact that I actually saw the morning raga in full bloom is something that is no less than an achievement for me, taking into consideration the fact that I am the ideal most definition of a late riser! :p  (The other instances being my exams when the unscrupulous thoughts of me failing kept me awake all nights. Well this is alien territory and I would not get into details as of now.)

So, back on track, holi brought with itself not just happy and gay faces, unrecognizable in most cases but also meant truckloads of preparations and heated up, ass-slogging cooking!! Not that I myself did any of it, the mere sight of aunties in my apartment (not even my mum :P ; she is again the epitome of ultra-modern laziness) running about like little girls with ladles full of Malpua batter, the sound of mustard seeds crackling away happily later to be the soul of the yummmmyyyyy chola-bhatura and the endless rounds of mixing and grinding for the all-time favorite Dahi Vada made me go sick in my stomach in apprehension…”dude…this was meant to be fun right??” :\
Ok! I think I painted a really negative image of what happens back in my place so as a measure to undo that lemme just talk about what actually happens there instead of the sordid presumptions of my mind :P

The festival of colors has many different hues in different parts of the country and like all other things in India, takes the local flavor of the area to come up with an altogether different form of it.  Back in Bokaro, we played a holi that was substantially different from its siblings in Mathura or Shantiniketan, the biggest difference being the very act of coloring!!

Call it eco-friendly or ardent followers of the theory of sustainable and optimal use of resources we used every commodity that had a color to impart, looked devilish (even putrid), felt slimy and smelt like fermented stinking tofu!! :P

Having let out the vital stats, things that met these standards were anything and everything ranging from mud to cow dung (oh! Holy cow), to rotten rosogollas!! Call it insanity, call it L.S (low standard), these actually substantiated as colors for enthusiastic Holians :D

I remember being plunged into one of such puke-inspiring broths and trust me the feeling is something that no words can describe :’(

Ok, enough of testimonials that assert the ‘dirtiest holi’ tag to my hometown; I would now talk about the lighter parts of it.
11:00 A.M:- Breakfast done! Tummy says yummy and mummy say “Bujai (well that’s my nickname), oil your hairs, get into the shabbiest looking, torn into tethers clothes and be prepared for your game.” Now I always thought what made my mum put gallons of oil (the tackiest thing even invented) on my tresses and all exposed body parts?? :-\ 
Unfair as it may sound, when you are a child although your mind works faster that it works in any other phase of your development, all your questions and unsolved mysteries are shun by elders who just have 1 comment to make “bĂȘte aap chote ho...Bado Ki baat maanni chahiye” (oh! My child…it is not time yet for you to question…lay your trust in us and do as directed) L
So, helpless like an apple snail, I stayed still while my mum made her best effort to make look like one of the brothers from ED, EDD and EDDY :P and then throwed me out of the house with a bag full of colors, my latest show-off – the weapon for the day… my ‘pichkaari’. Another thing that was constant in every house was a strict prohibition from entering the premises with dirty feet and a treacherous kid loaded with color balloons, a potential threat to all homes in the neighborhood :P
12:00:- Looking the ugliest I possibly could, equipped with my tools, I set foot in enemy territory who for that matter was my next door neighbor and who thankfully looked like my long lost sister with skimpy, oil-clad hairs and flaunting the oldest piece of clothing in her wardrobe!!!

Now I think it would be a tough job for me recall every detail of what followed, tougher because I would end up crying now… but the jest of all activities was without an exception, a loooonnngggg shower with atleast two soap bars eaten, hands on the verge of falling apart due to the rigorous scrubbing and an overall tinge of green or red that made us look like maniacs :P 
It was always a lavish lunch that awaited us with the fruits of the initial toil in the kitchen tasting sweet like never before. In the afternoon nap that followed, I slept like Kumbhakran, the mystical demon in the Hindu relic, Ramayana who slept unperturbed for six months.

Later in the evening, things were at its glittery best with new clothes and a dash of gulaal making you look like a pansy. Not to forget the never ending rounds of dahi-vada and ice creams that were plated in front of you in every single house you visited.  Denial was never the choice and all those doughy stuff made me full upto my glottis!
Be it the hateful procedure of oiling my hair (not anymore since I now know the perils of chemicals to my hairs) or the time spent on the roads looking like Marians or the long nap in the afternoon, holi is one festival that remains very close to my heart.

Pheeeewwwww….so I finally accomplished writing atleast something about holi. amidst the sound of children shouting “bura naa mano holi hai”, I ponder upon a question that has been long unanswered… why is that we are afraid of bombs and weapons when a seemingly harmless entity like TIME is capable of completely changing (not always for the good) our existence?? How I wish to be transported back in time to the place where holi was not just another holiday….

Happy holi mates :)