Sunday, September 30, 2012

The landing

Have you ever had the thought of leaping off a tall building?
The feel of the redeeming wind against your body..
The lightness, the weightlessness..
The freedom of being suspended into nothingness..
The tossing about and somersaults without harnesses..
A faint scream of fear and delight..
The last few seconds of the thumping heart..
And then the sudden halt as you hit the grounded reality..
Bringing an end to this glorious flight…called life.
Blood oozing, crackled bones, mangled limbs,
Lifelessness creeping in gradually..
The final breath, the last sigh…the end.
It’s so much better than nursing a cold as you sniffle tears every night,
So much better than living through broken-hearted days and nights,
Let the world wonder..
Accident? Suicide? Or Murder?
And let those abettors suffer in silence, let those murderers rejoice with the hindrance gone
Let some rational minds embark on an analytical tour of what you were thinking in those final moments as you stood at the ledge.
Let those one or two mourn or cry, probably suffer a trauma. In the end, they too would know, that you had no choice. They’ll sympathize then and pray to the Almighty to redeem you.
In a matter of years all of them would be wiped off too.
Because everything alive has an end, every person has a choice, to take the step now or let God take it Himself, later.

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Entangled minds - II

They walked on hand in hand towards the bus station. After her previous careless spree, he held her hand even tighter in a resolute grip. The road was partially jammed, the skies hinted rain and the air was replete with a faint drizzle. The sun had set and the streetlights gleamed like blurred stars on his specs. She walked to his right, the vehicles running in a direction opposite to them. 

"Why do you always keep to the vehicle side of the road?" she asked.
"Because it's chivalrous of me," he answered.
"When do I get to walk on that side?" 
"Maybe when I am drunk and too lost to figure out the road on my own."
"Hmph!! You think you are protecting me eh? This is India! No one has a sense of driving here. All they seek is empty spaces. Why even pavements are encroached upon by bikes!"
She had not even completed her sentence when a swerving bicycle brushed past her right, from behind her, just missing her elbow.
"I rest my case," she announced in a victorious tone.

It was as if someone was listening to their conversation and just waiting to prove her right, for once. 
"I am still not letting you walk on the vehicle side!" 
And as much as she hated him for that inferior treatment, she took pride in his possessiveness and concern for her. 

The bus station had arrived. 

Friday, September 28, 2012

Entangled minds - I

She was lost in her own fantasies, her own bit of conversations. She did not realize when he stepped up close behind her. She leaned back and forth, her hand against the wall, swaying to a distant melody running at the back of her mind. And suddenly she was jolted back by a faint brush of his warmth against her elbow. She fell back, losing her foothold, nearly stamping him.
“Yikes. I’m sorry. Did that hurt?”
“No,” he whispered in a mellowed tone.
He was still holding her close, supporting her stance. She regained her composure and slowly drew away. There was nothing distinct about him, no fragrance, no aura. No wonder she did not feel his presence. Just a kind of warmth that made her feel his presence, every time. Like the feel of his soft palms against hers, as he suddenly held her hand in a bid to drag her away with him.
“Let’s go. We’re getting late,” he urged.
There was no mistaking those hands. His fingers that slowly crept into hers as they walked next to each other on the road every time or sometimes accidentally entangled in her long lustrous hair, for no apparent reason. Or drawn across her shoulder seeking support. What a stark difference, she thought to herself. Her hands bony, cold, lacking emotions. And yet, he didn’t mind holding them for hours at end. 
Quite a deal of patience, she smiled to herself, thinking about him. And he screeched suddenly, once again waking her from her trance, “Hey, don’t die!”
She noticed that she had freed herself from his grip and strayed to the middle of the road, unknowingly. Strange, she didn't remember letting go off his hands. Those hands that made her feel stronger, able enough to take on the world. He tugged her back, holding her close, shielding her against the mad rush of vehicles. He said nothing, but she could read his mind speaking, “Idiotic, wandering, clumsy You! There is a reason why I hold your hand!”

Thursday, September 27, 2012

A child within

We all have a child within our hearts..
We still unintentionally hop, skip and jump down the stairs..
We get hyper-excited on seeing cotton candy and running trains in malls..
We still crave for chocolates and toffees as incentives..
We cry and bawl over the pettiest of things..
We still ruffle someone's hair to irritate them..
We still chase butterflies and aim at catching them..

We all have that innocent streak, hidden from the view of this big bad world, for fear of embarrassment. It's a worldly code to 'act your age', and we adhere to it as a strict norm. But sometimes, that child within surfaces. In the most alarming and unexpected situation, you reveal that squeaky voice, that docile look, that angelic demeanour.

Maybe, that's the real you.. Why hide it?

As Anis Mogjani said: "Children speak half English and half God"

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Stolen Glances

When I catch your eyes with mine, it makes me wonder what's going on in your head. It is a casual stare into nothingness or an intentional glimpse. That fixed, haunting look. Do I remind you of someone? Do I resemble someone you knew? Did you remember that you had something to say to me? You don't even spare the notorious mirror or glass cases. Do you know something about me? Some secret? Those eyes which have so much to say, always full of conversations. And when I respond with a tweak of my brows in question, all you do is smile, shake your head and switch your gaze. 

They say the eyes are a window to one's soul, and I can peep into your heart, literally now. There is a certain warmth to your scrutiny, I can't comprehend. A certain level of concern, of humility, respect. A mixture of  dreams and hard-core realities. A look that both melts anger and irritates. And there is a lot more than what meets the eye. Because your eyes speak a different language, words quite different from what you actually utter. And you just contradict yourself, every time.

And every time I catch you staring, I feel a sense of victory,like a cop who has caught a thief red-handed,  like a kid playing hide and seek. But, well, we aren't kids anymore. Gone are those days...

I'd prefer to be hidden, locked away from that gaze, stolen out of that watchful sight that follows me wherever I go. Because it's all a waste of time. The world has much beautiful sights for the eyes to behold. And I hate being watched. 

Tuesday, September 25, 2012


And one day you pay for your ignorance, for your stone-heartedness.
You realize that you are a human, with emotions, with feelings.. with a mind full of memories.
And however much you try, this realization does not let you escape. 
It forgives, but does not forget and no amount of brainwashing can wipe the slate clean

Wonder how some people move on and forget their loved ones who are no more. 

Wonder how some people cast away relationships like pebbles. 
Don't they have a heart? Does it not hurt them to discard a part of their own?

I give up. You're still a part of me. 

But don't worry, it's my problem, and I won't bother you. It's not your fault.
You have a better life ahead. 

Dido's song playing in my head... and it's just how exactly I feel...

"I know you think that I shouldn't still love you, 
Or tell you that.
But if I didn't say it, well I'd still have felt it 
where's the sense in that? 

I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder 
Or return to where we were 

And when we meet 
Which I'm sure we will 
All that was there
Will be there still 
I'll let it pass 
And hold my tongue 
And you will think 
That I've moved on.... 

I will go down with this ship 
And I won't put my hands up and surrender 
There will be no white flag above my door 
I'm in love and always will be "

Monday, September 24, 2012

The charming violin

I love the violin. I plan to learn the instrument someday.
The tune so soulful, so touching, striking the chords of your heart. I think the violin is one instrument which can define emotions, define a state of mind to near perfection.

I was listening to Contradanza by Vanessa Mae. To me its a mind in turmoil. A smooth flow like the Godfather track reflects the past losses and moving on. David Oistrakh and his concerto take you on a gradual ride from highs to lows. Hillary Hahn and Julia Fischer being the other classical violinists I am newly listening to.

Yes, I look at myself enjoying a Sunday afternoon listening to someone playing a violin, maybe even playing it myself. Just losing myself to its Divine brilliance. Music can hypnotise. It can take you to a new level of consciousness altogether. A world where it's just you and your melody. And nothing separates this blissful union.

One of my favorite past writings

OUTLINE OF THE MOVIE: Summer Interlude
Told in flashback, this sensitively observed story traces a teenage love affair which took place one idyllic summer on the archipelago near Stockholm. While waiting for the night rehearsal of the ballet Swan Lake, the lonely twenty-eight year-old ballerina Marie receives a diary through the mail. She travels by ferry to an island nearby Stockholm, where she recalls her first love Henrik. Thirteen years ago, while travelling to spend her summer vacation with her aunt Elisabeth and her uncle Erland, Marie meets Henrik in the ferry and soon they fall in love with each other. They spend summer vacation together when a tragedy separates them. The film beautifully evokes the giddiness of young love, the tragedy of unfulfilled promise, and the healing powers of time.

Marie is in the make-up room reminiscing about her past and introspecting her present with David. She is sitting in front of a mirror with her make up on. The ballet master (dressed like a clown) walks in. She and the ballet master have a conversation where they talk about how a tragedy had changed Marie and made her live a fake life with protective walls. Just then David enters.

I have written poetic lines in English considering that the story revolves around a ballerina’s life.

Marie (talks to her reflection in the mirror):
Death, you startle me
As flesh and blood unite in dust
As raging seas swallow the sun
As the shroud of ebony caresses the mourning sky

(The ballet master (dressed like a clown), who has been hiding behind the door and over hearing, walks in)

Ballet master (walking towards Marie):  
It’s not the sky that’s mourning, it’s you Marie.
Marie (sighs):
What am I, but a puppet of destiny
Ballet master:
Look at you Marie!
You dare not remove your make up
You dare not be made up
                        I question myself, my soul, my heart
                        I question my pretence, my emotions
                        I question would I love, ever again?

Ballet master:
                        The cage enclosing your wounded heart
                        What time had healed, feels fresh in pain
                        Your gushing tears that flood your eyes
                        What made you cry all over again?
                        Pages of the past flung open
Words hit me like bullets
He sketched a shield and plunged a sword
He took advantage of my meekness

Ballet master:
                        Vicious Erland eh?
Don’t they know how much it hurts
To lose a person you were with
To lose all your dreams and your hopes
To realize one day your love was a myth

Who is this admirer you grieve for?

Marie (lost in a daze):
                        We were dreamers of the present, vagabonds of the future
                        Inherently coherent, yet deeply bounded spirits
                        Blossoming buds, yet fully bloomed in ecstasy
                        Cryptic to the world, flying away together

Ballet master:
                       Ahh! The labour of love...
           Of divine bonds and gleeful fights
           Of charming days and amorous nights

Marie (smiles):
Nights of fantasies, of blissful union
Memories of a summer tempest
Nestling in his strong manly arms
Velvety hands caressing unrest

Ballet master:
But look at you Marie...
Thirteen years of brooding silences
Wandering lonely, lost in fallacy
A masked maiden on a quest unknown
Oh Marie! Do you live in reality?

Marie (looks at the mirror and touches her face):   
I look at all the times gone by
I have lost my youth in treacherous days
Love never dies they preach and say
I mended my heart by moving away

Ballet Master:
You dare not be wounded again dear Marie
Look at how absurd you look (points to the mirror)
Look at the silly games life plays
Ain’t you better with a heart of stone?

Marie (wipes her tears):
Thirteen years, I’ve exiled myself
Now is the moment to break free
Who says love happens just once
It’s all a play of destiny
(pulls faces in the mirror)

Ballet master (advises):
                        Wander in lonely forlorn comfort
Dance your feet away in glory
                        But love will land you in trouble
                        Believe me Marie, or you’ll be sorry.
(David enters. He looks menacingly at the ballet master)

Ballet master (annoyed):
                        Behold young man, or I’ll turn you to dust!

David (back-answering):
                        Your filthiness would fill my pages. I happen to be a journalist.
Behold! Or I’ll crumble your good name!

Sunday, September 23, 2012


As I opened the newspapers today morning, I read the news about a son killing his father because the latter refused to give him money for alcohol. When I switched on the TV, the show Crime Patrol was going on with an episode about youngsters indulging in wrong company. The media is replete with negative coverage on youth. And then the elders have their discussions on precautionary measures and tightening the noose. No wonder, a girl’s parents are hesitant about sending her alone to the movies with a guy. No wonder, road trips are a strict no-no. No wonder trying even a sip of alcohol is a taboo.

It is high time the media reflects the positive side of youth. If our ever-possessive parents are continually exposed to content like this, they may lock us up at home fearing the big bad world. They need to be shown the positive light. They need to know that the right, decent company exists, that socializing is not a sin as it is portrayed. They need to move on with the changing times.

We no longer live in the world our parents grew up in. Thanks to the latest gizmos, gadgetry, the world has become smaller and the generation gap wider. The general perception about youth today is that they are distracted, philandering, seldom in the right company. That their friends are misguiding, that if they don’t excel at college they are into addiction. I don’t deny that we get misguided easily, but there are several of us who are level-headed enough. And it’s injustice to us.

Why can’t they see our activism towards wrong doings? Our enthusiasm to support the right causes. Why does the negative over power, every time? Why can’t tolerance and open-mindedness find their way through the dark alleys of human thought?

Why are we such a mistaken lot?

Friday, September 21, 2012

From a certain girl called 'Berry'

At a point where humans appeared scary as a species,

I feel like this really alive Aquarian surrounded by all my favorite people.. It was a treat to my eyes to see two people, really close to my heart right in front of me after ages. It's like someone up there answered my prayers.

And my dear Laurel and Hardy, if you both are reading this, I feel so good to see you together. I know in the next few months you both won't be around, but it's little moments like these that keep me well grounded to my roots and my upbringing. After my parents, it's just you two who have known me for soooo... long. And every time I see you both it reminds me of our lovely school days and so many other memories. We have seen each other grow up and I adore the bond we share.

And no I am not going over board by writing this post out when I could have told you both all this in person...
You seriously made my day :)

Yakkity yakkity yak!

What a funny, manic start to the day.
Its only 10am and I have already heard 10 people (not kidding) grumbling and venting out since morning.

It started at home. Then continued as I walked my way to office. The world is indeed immersed in problems. A ragpicker abusing a dog for raiding the dustbin, an auto guy expressing his anger over rising fuel prices, a woman yelling at her husband over the phone, a man shouting at his driver in the middle of the road, two crows fighting. And suddenly when I saw some hope in the form of a junior I met as I was reaching the colony gate, sigh, her phone rang and history repeated itself.. And soon a dumper full of trash passed from right next to me...

The thoughts of a nervous breakdown were rampant in my head. But it's human tendency to forget one's state of being when one sees others in the same boat. It was weird feeling de-stressed after being a witness to a host of negativity.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

A fascinating virtuality

And when you wake up to a different reality, dreams just start feeling saner, lovelier...

Although I can't comprehend them, I don't understand why my conscience conjures some of them, but they all make sense when I wake up..
I see the faces I want to see.. I go places I have seen in pictures.. I am amidst adventures that can never happen for real.. My fate and survival in my own hands.. The peace and freedom that I yearn for, all seeming so real.. So good, that I just don't feel like waking up..

I look forward to sleeping every night, in a bid to visit myself. I wake afresh every morning and spend time recollecting the events and smile to myself.

Have been blogging a lot about dreams off late.. Will hop back into reality once it starts fascinating me, again. 

When God made His presence felt

A voice from the skies, a blinding white light, a striking persona never seen by the human eye. For many He exists. For many He is a dumping ground of blames, the center of human doubts and interrogations. They praise Him when the times are good. They question His presence when all seems bleak. He is a best friend, a teacher, a creator of obstacles and a problem solver. Bollywood has had its own share of bitter sweet arguments, age old debates and sweet talks with God.
In the wake of a fresh debates arising with the release of Oh My God, we trace some previous tête-à-têtes with the Almighty Himself in Bollywood.

God Tussi Great Ho (2008)
Touted as the desi version of Bruce Almighty, the film’s protagonist Salman Khan treats God, played by Amitabh Bacchhan physically and vocally, like a punching bag. However, in this one God strikes back and hauls the eternally whining human up to the moon, where he abdicates his responsibility and asks him to take up the reins of the universe for the next ten days. It shows the viewer the possible complexities of life, had God answered every human prayer.

Hello (2008)
Adapted from Chetan Bhagat’s One Night @ The Call Centre, Hello reveals God as an anonymous caller who helps get the protagonists out of a crisis situation. It also portrays human disbelief and modern day attitudes towards the Supernatural.

My Friend Ganesha series (2007-2010)
The story of a young boy and his blossoming friendship with Lord Ganesha. Together they resolve problems around and have a lot of fun. The animated and lovable version of Lord Ganesha did bring a lot of faithful young hearts close to worshipping God.

Karan Arjun (1995)
The loss of her sons does not wipe out a mother’s faith in Kali Maa. With great optimism she (Rakhee Gulzar) predicts the return of her dead sons to avenge her enemies and sure enough her prayers are answered.  It reinforces truth about Karma and payment of deeds and that God always gets his timings right.

Chamatkar (1992)
This shows a direct conversation between a deceased Marco (Naseeruddin Shah) and God. God strikes a deal with Marco that he has to abide by certain conditions and undergo a change of heart to attain salvation to make up for his unholy and sinful life on Earth.

Nastik (1983)
The movie begins with a young boy taunting God for being a lifeless idol, who did not do justice to his family that served Him for years. The debate turns nasty and he turns to take justice in his own hands, breaking all ties with God, only to become a Nastik (atheist).

Amar Akbar Anthony (1977)
A God-fearing Anthony (Amitabh Bacchhan) has regular conversations with Christ in the church. He shares every minute detail of his life, right from his love for Jenny (Parveen Babi) to beating his enemies and finding his estranged family. His closest aide is the priest at the Church who brought him up after fate rendered him an orphan. Akbar (Rishi Kapoor) is also shown to be singing praises of Sai Baba and a miracle is revealed by God’s grace when a blind mother (Nirupa Roy) regains her sight.

Deewar (1975)
A monologue towards the end of the movie reveals the transformation of a non-believer into a believer, ridden by circumstances. Amitabh’s power-packed lines beg of God to release his mother from sufferings as he surrenders himself.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Some forgotten hues

Every garment protects you till you wash and wash and wash it over and over again. Soon the fabric weakens, the colour fades. Stains of memories and time impose themselves on the embroidery. The buttons pop out, the zips get stuck, holes are developed, insects attack the woven cloth, and there it lies forgotten in a mist of fungus in a cold damp wardrobe. 

There was a time someone else picked clothes for you, someone else dreamt for you. But soon enough, you had the power to buy them on your own, to weave your own patterns, to make your own choices, to live your own dreams. 

Yes, I am a sentimental freak. But then dreams are like old clothes. We grow out of them. And soon enough, we make efforts to get them altered, in a last bid to get them to fit. Sometimes you manage, sometimes you don't. An inch of a stitch from within, some tacking removed, some hems sewn, some beyond repair. A saree converted to a quilt, a branded skirt now a rag. And sometimes, they just have to be discarded, however comforting and warm they maybe. That bigger sized jacket that feels just right or that floral dress which is so you! The smell of the days gone by still lingering in those threads. Just some old dreams, that don't fit right anymore..

Not everything can be stitched. Not everything can be mended. Every thread has a limit of tolerance. The day it's burdened beyond a limit, it snaps, letting go of all that it supported.

Everything is temporary. We only make promises of permanence, amidst forgotten hues. 

Friday, September 14, 2012

Tips to a better living

This is something I learnt, some tips that make me a happier person...
  1. You don’t need a soulmate, you don’t need someone to pamper or share all your problems with. You just need the right company, the right set of people around at the right time.
  2. Visit the sea often. Let the waves totally wash you off. You literally feel as if all your tensions are being taken away by a greater force of nature. Let loose with the wind. Don’t be afraid of your clothes getting dirty.It feels good to let loose and forget the world once in a while.
  3. Have a shrink in your life.Make your best friend (someone you can comfortably cry your heart and lungs out to, who has a valid reason and solution to your problems) a shrink. If you don’t trust family or friends, take professional help. The world is changing and somewhere everyone needs a shrink. Remember, a person can never be a good shrink to oneself, but he/she can be a great shrink to others.
  4. Stay miles away from cribbers. The world is a beautiful place and it pays to be optimistic!
  5. The definition of a date could mean a simple food outing or spending time together. Stop treating the term like a serious commitment attached to a guilt factor. You could go out with a friend, a sibling, your mom, your dad! It really helps because opening up and discussing all that you have bottled up makes you feel better! And as someone rightly said, it's not the place that matters, but company.
  6. Eat and pig out to your heart's content. 
  7. All guys are assholes and all girls are bitches, in their own ways at some point in life.
And I appreciate all those who drilled this sense into me.. if they are reading this. 

Saturday, September 8, 2012

When moments get lonesome...

I wish I had a pet...

Someone who'd walk me to office and look forward to my return
Someone who'd make me smile in my darkest moments
Someone who'd make me feel special when the world taunts me
Someone who'd love me for what I am 
Someone who'd listen to my gossips and ranting
Someone who'd not judge me by my looks or clothes
Someone who'd accompany me during my meals
Someone who'd give me my daily dose of hugs
Someone who'd keep me safe and guard me with his life 
Someone who'd make loneliness alien to me
Someone who'd make me trust virtues like loyalty and love
Someone who'd inspire the best in me
Someone who I could call my own...

And sometimes I feel so blessed to have those darlings under my building

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

The benefits of being ‘Comfortably Numb’

My dear friend in trouble,

This world will go on screeching and screaming its opinions. They will impose restrictions, speak foul words. Or even worse, cane you till you bleed, to death. 

Be numb, and you won’t feel a thing. You won’t feel those words which pierce and hurt more than stab wounds. You won’t cringe when a nasty tongue lashes out in all its frenzy. You’ll seldom bother about what others have to say. It’s easy. All you have to do is switch off your ears. Let your mind do the talking. That way you’ll hear what pleases you. Switch off your heart. That way no one would be able to move you, from within. No stirring of emotions, no welling of tears. If they hit you, remember, physical wounds are temporary. They heal fast. It’s the emotional and psychological wounds that need special care. 

Tears are not for sale! Don’t be surprised if you suddenly let out a laugh when the entire world seems against you. Don’t feel guilty if you smile without having any reason to. The world may call you selfish, heartless. So what? After all, it’s your right to be happy and nothing in this world is worth wasting your tears on, absolutely nothing. And if you think you have no reasons left, do it for yourself. Or do it to prove to those non-believers in life that you’re too strong to be broken by them. 

This is what I have done to myself and trust me, I’m totally loving it.

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Damn! This philandering heart...

It takes you the forbidden way,
It has these gutsy lucid dreams,
It whispers rhymes of ignorance,
And then revels in virtual bliss.

Never fall prey to a philandering heart...
Just pretend you listen to it