The Cruse of The Crisis
If I was to ever come with a list of things which I said but shouldn’t have said, well lists are girly so I am not actually ever going to come up with one and seriously I never could understand people obsession with them. My dad is like the forbearer of all list-makers like with him everything has to be listed and well planned out. Shopping list, to do list, not to do list, people to meet list, people not to meet list, places to be list, trains to catch list, routes to take during peak hours list, routes to avoid during peak hours list and over and above the packing list. Well keeping aside the intentional exaggeration, why something’s need to be so damn organized, why for once we simply can’t forget say a toothbrush or a pair of socks or a pair boxers while going on a journey, why can’t we for once forget to pick up ketch up from our latest excursion to the departmental store and why for once can’t we forget the keys and leave certain doors locked? Why we have to be perfect, why do we have to jot down everything and stick all those teeny tiny post-its everywhere and for crying out loud God, the almighty, gave us brain, with storage capacity that could even put a thousand Time Capsules to shame, so why can’t we for once remember things without actually making a note of them? Well my girlfriend who actually thinks of me to be a person, now that’s a debatable issue for I have been directly or indirectly been called a Dog like a zillion times but anyways she thinks of me to be a person, wow I just can’t over the sound of it, she actually thinks of me to be person and not a jerk though I kind of know that it must have taken nothing short of an herculean effort from her. But again all these overly exaggerated digressions apart she did think of me to be a person whose memory could even challenge that of rocks though these weren’t her exact words for not everyone is not blessed with the eloquence and verbosity to put what all that is in their hearts or mind or wherever into words but still this is what she must have meant when she asked me a cure for of her forgetfulness.
If only I could have told her how cursed the people like me are for we are the ones who can’t forget, who can’t move on, who can’t let go and we are the people whom the time chose as custodians, remembering and never forgetting even the slightest of transgressions or slips of tongue or insolence. And yes right now I really want to forget, close my eyes and go to sleep for I can’t fight her memories which seem to running, rummaging and melting in every corner of my mind. I want to forget the sad truth that she isn’t with me right now and I want to forget myself for that’s the only way I could ever bring myself to not miss her and really I want to forget the rain that’s beating against my window sill. And I am sitting here in this room, watching Optimus Prime battling it out against the Decepticons and really right now I feel like Optimus Prime or at least I feel like the way he would have felt when Megatron went onto pierce his heart and in this battle of mine, the Megatron is called the Crisis.
It took Sam Witwicky, a journey back and forth to the Transformers heaven before he could bring Optimus back to life but as far as my life goes it would take exactly 11 days for the curse of the Crisis to lift and till then I just wish to be a teeny tiny transformer who sitting on her table top or may be lying in her purse would at least get to feel the touch of her hand and smell her intoxicating fragrance and listen to her mellifluous voice as she chatter her way around the whole day.
Things She Taught Me….
Relationships are all about learning, each day that we spend day together unravels a series of realizations, things which we realize about ourselves and emotions- justifiable and unjustifiable, reasonable and unreasonable- which we never thought we were capable of and it’s not just about her or me, it’s about us. What we say, what we feel, what we realize when we look deep inside ourselves that makes us know about each other, about the indelible bond that we share, about us. What I was, what I will be, I don’t know but what I become when I am with her, is all that matters to me and sometimes I can’t help but be proud of the perfect love which she gave to me. And I know in this world where nothing is what it seems like, it is this belief and pride of mine that will make this union a beautiful one because nothing could ever be beautiful if you don’t think of it to be.
Every day, each moment, I learn, I feel something new. I used to believe once in the unconditional love and all the stupid notions which a lot of stupid people have preached but now I just know human love could never be unconditional. But yes I do have a hope that maybe someday when both of us would have fulfilled most of each other’s desires then maybe we will end up loving each other just for the sake of loving for this love is what that has redeemed both of us. And I learned that love isn’t in the roses or blooms that you may buy for each other, love lies in those moments when you went out of the way and begged to the florist to give you an extra rose bud, love lies in the moments when she has to come up with an incomprehensible story just so she could keep the flowers in her living room, love lies in that one smile that she gave me and love lies in that underlying happiness that I knew she felt but never showed. Love lies in those distance that we walked, love lies in those moments when we held each other’s hand, love lies in the steps she took despite of herself just to please me, love lies in tears which my words often bring to her eyes, love lies in the longing which often fills our heart and love lies everywhere in each gap and in each of our breath.
I learnt to understand though she would beg to differ but then when you have lived your entire life for yourself; it often gets difficult to see a point other than the one that you are making. And yes now I can say I have grown for now I know how to live my life for someone else and even though money can never buy love but every now and then it could be spend to make the people you love happy. It’s not the gifts that you buy for flowers and chocolates and stuff can never last forever for when your flowers have all crumbled down and roses have become a part of some book even then your love will bloom. But yes, once in a while, it doesn’t hurt to do things that would end up taking her breath away like a kiss on a rainy day, underneath the blue sky, on a wide open road for kisses such as these would always linger even when your lips have parted and you are no longer with each other. And it’s not for her to let her guard down and feel carefree but it’s you who have to provide her with this feeling, it’s you who have to take her mind, heart and soul away, it’s you who have to possess for hearts beat a lot better when they are possessed.
And I learnt nothing could ever beat the feel of cool breeze on your skin on a rainy day and nothing could beat eating corn while sitting breathtakingly close on a moving bike and nothing could beat the feel of holding that corn so that she have her bite and nothing could beat the feel which you get when she all of a sudden ends up telling you about some long forgotten liaison and all you want to do is to stab yourself to death with the very same corn and then you close your eyes and all you can see is her face and all you can smell is her sweet fragrance and then past simply seems irrelevant for you know it’s not the past but rather the moment which matters and besides no one can stab themselves to death with a corn.
And that is not all I have learnt but yeah now I do know, the best moments are not the one which you plan for, best moments are the ones which happen by themselves, best moments are the ones where you just go with the flow, best moments are the one where you stop in the middle of the street and pluck flowers, best moments are the ones when you slip an innocent and childish flower ring into her finger.
The Rains That I Hate
The story it goes on again
Playing same on this side and next
The books which I left unclosed
Now my life seeps through those pores
And I exist somewhere in these gaps
Somewhere between your smiles
Like a puppet swinging by these threads
And I now live just to see another day
Hoping to find you in these streets
Waiting for the moment when you would cross my way.
These clouds want to bleed again tonight
I plead to the heavens to at least wait
Until I find a perfect place to conceal my tears and hide
Now for the first time I hate this rain
For these raindrops washed away
Your sweet intoxicating smell
And now I live to see just another day
When you would be with me
Lost, in my embrace.
Questions- That never were asked
How to act when you are meeting your would be brother in law for the first time or how not to stupidly grin and for a change have an intelligent conversation with him?? Speaking of intelligent conversation, the last time I had one was with my girlfriend though at that time she wasn’t my girl friend and I ended up staring blatantly at her face. More so because she chose to dress up like a Barbie that day and with cheeks so pink and hair so ravishingly long, even demigods would have stopped in their tracks to adore her. Speaking of dressing up, I now kind of know for sure that this is something that runs in her family because the moment I stood next to her brother, I felt grossly underdressed in my tattered jeans and sweaty t-shirt. But then it doesn’t usually take much to make me feel underdressed and her brother was dressed resplendently in shirt and trousers with belt and shoes with socks. Dressing and under dressing apart, the one thing that I realized though much later in the rendezvous and that was to never have a conversation about technology and mobile computing, especially when all you have done is chase around girls and sleep through three years of your post graduation.
Well, we met all three of us and what happened isn’t much of a consequence now more so because nothing much actually happened. I went there expecting a volley of questions and I was all revved up with explanations and all I wanted to do was to convince him of the love that I have for her sister but instead all I got was a pair of really calculating eyes. I can’t blame him though and maybe the word of her sister was enough to convince him of the love that both of us share and maybe he was there to just see for himself how good her sister choice is. At some point in our conversation he did ask me something that actually took me by surprise and that was as to what I think about him. Now there are people you don’t need to have an opinion about, there are people whom you can do without being friends with and expecting love from people whom I happen to be in love with and giving and expecting indifference from everyone else, is the way I live my life. But then love is all about going where you never have been, meeting all those you have never met before and loving all that you never have loved. So yes someday I will have an opinion about him but till then I am happy to look through her eyes and believe whatever she tells me.
And it all ended pretty soon and I walked back home with a lot of unsaid and unexpressed feelings and it was then I realized that I was the one supposed to be running the show but then I have never loved anyone this much before to actually bother meeting their family and try to make an impression. And now I think as long as she is convinced of the love that I feel for her, I don’t need to make an effort and convince anyone else because people who love you can actually sense the conviction in your voice and that’s all I think her brother was looking for.
And now I live my life in a flux, expecting the unexpected, going where the love takes me, saying whatever my heart conjures up and dreaming each moment of time when both of us would be together forever. Love, hope and the sweet smell of her skin, that’s what I live for now.
Parallel Universe-This is how We Begun
Sometimes when you look back and think about all the things that you have said or talked about with people, you can’t help but feel kind of flabbergasted or rather stupid. Well I can’t speak for the whole world but when I think of my life and way it was some 9-10 months back and when I think about all the stuff I used to talk about and that too with the people, well actually 2 people, whom I later went on to become really good friends with, I can’t help but be baffled or rather astonished. Astonished by my own impertinence like who on earth goes onto explain the theory behind Parallel Universes and that too when I myself have no idea as to what these parallel universes are? What’s more had it just been these parallel universes, I would have kind of, by digging my face deep in the pillow, faced this embarrassment but no, my audacity didn’t even came close to stopping with that. Destiny, love, marriage, afterlife, before life, meaning behind this life, the purpose behind our existence and what not always invariably seeped into our conversations and never even once did she wanted to initiate but she played along, listening, discussing, rebuking and sometimes even begging for me to talk about something else. Never once she complained but, and now when I think about these conversation, I realize that leave alone believe, I didn’t even understood half of the things that I myself used to tell her and I must say we survived because really the last time when I heard myself talking about all that crap, I ended up slapping myself and that too rather too tightly.
Why I talked about all this stuff, well I don’t know and really I am not a funny haired philosopher though my hairs, according to her, sometime do look funny. That apart I think I talked about these things because I didn’t knew what else to talk about with her and despite our inchoate friendship, I always felt as if there was a connection between us that went beyond the conventional acquaintance and I didn’t want to lose her by letting this silence play a spoilsport and I guess I was right at least about this. We did came a long way from parallel universes to sharing even the most inconsequential detail about our lives and perhaps we did owe to these parallel universes for we won’t have been what we are now had it not been for our past.
Sometimes when we are having our arguments, I do miss all of my theories which I so used to philosophize about for she always used to listen with an utmost and rapt attention but then I think the bond between us has grown rather too indelible to see us through any conflict or difference in our opinion and she still listens to me albeit now that happens whenever I have really something indelible to say.
There is a thing about beginnings, they never last that long but nevertheless beginnings give us hope, they inspire us to achieve what we may not even have thought off and what you make out of these beginnings is what that really matters. Parallel universes were how we begin and it’s through this meager beginning that we ended up creating something amazing, something that we both miss, something that we both felt when we sat next to each other. Do we talk about parallel universe; yes we do whenever both of us are in a dire need of a laugh though my eyes still crinkle up in embarrassment. Sometimes I am amazed by her patience and also her courage when she first decided to come see me and given the nature of my crack pot talks, I wouldn’t be surprised if she ever would have felt afraid doing so.
If you ever find yourself in a situation similar to that of mine, don’t be afraid, simply fire off with whatever incomprehensible theories you have for people who like you will always like you despite of all the nuisance and people whom you find waiting after all of your theories have exhausted themselves are really the ones that are worth cherishing for life. Finally a request, if any of you people have a slightest idea as to what the heck these parallel universes are then please do let it be known to me.
The Table Art
“Impossible is possible”, this was the line scribbled alongside a quirky remark about life and girlfriends and how they both sucked and an almost defaced, probably by a jealous lover “Kiran loves Shobhana”, there were several others as well love notes, phone numbers and lots of names, all scribbled across the desk I was sitting. The drudgery of endless classes and lectures could transform a simple student into an artist, I wondered as I thought about the school days when almost each of us wrote our names as well as the name of the girl we had a crush on, all inside a tinny weenie heart across each and every desk in the class, perhaps we thought scribbling or engraving our name across the desk would reserve for us a place somewhere in the memories of people, it was like immortality was just a stroke of scissor away. I as a matter of fact never got to do that because I always had a strong predilection towards falling in love with the girl sitting next to me and writing her name alongside mine, much more than tacky felt dangerous because what if the girl read it and complaint to the teacher. So more often than all through the childhood and as well as a greater part of adulthood, my love went unrequited more so because of my propensity of losing the people whom I loved the most in life and partly because I feel love is about happiness and keeping your beloved happy and I think people are happy without me being a part of their lives. Our class room desk weren’t the only place where this war for immortality was being fought because all we needed was a pen or a compass and then almost every empty wall felt like an empty canvas waiting for our master touch, so even the walls of our school toilet were filled with endless testaments about an undying love to an extent that my school people have to tile the restroom walls ceiling to floor but who so ever came up with that idea perhaps has never heard of a thing known as permanent marker and pretty soon the walls were once again painted in black, red and green albeit this time it was the name of our principle along with vituperations in seven different languages that was scribbled to the depths of infamy.
When I was a kid I remember engraving, much to the dismay of my mother for I used her favorite scissors, the names of all my friends along the bark of our garden tree, the names are still there but that insouciance is now long gone leaving behind just a remembrance etched somewhere along the bends and corner of our minds. One place that I tried but could never leave my mark was the Delhi metro, compass, coins, scissors, nails or keys all redundant against god knows what resistant paint, though that didn’t stop us from using markers and crayons but the cleaning staff was so damn efficient that not even a single mark survived of our delinquencies but this summer while commuting I found the spot where my girlfriend once scribbled our names in the space between the backrest of the seat and the compartment walls. The heart and the name was all effaced like the last remnant of our relationship and as I ran my hand across the emptiness where once her name had been, I wished for a worm hole to suck and take me to the time when we sitting huddled together have tried to immortalize our love, one thing for sure that permanent marker was a damn good one for its ink after all this year’s refuses to fade at least from the tomb stone of my heart, something’s you just can’t leave behind especially the engravings and scribbling along our palms and forehead, itched by the treacherous hands of fate.
A Simple Little Thing Called Love
Love is like the most amazing of all things, more so because the way it hits you right across your face and makes a blabbering idiot out of even the most impervious of us, is a feat which nothing else, with a probable exception of alcohol, could ever match. I think much more than anything it is our heart which deserves the credit for beating or skipping a beat or two at just all the right moments and with just all the right persons and still being able to pump blood like clockwork, really what an amazing pumping organ our heart is. Well, they just won’t call something the seat of human soul for nothing but this entire litany regarding heart and it’s mysteries notwithstanding, I sometimes wonder if any of us actually get to know what love is or is that we simply go onto accept whatever definitions that have been given for it so far? Well one thing that I have learnt about love is, the amount of grey in your hairs is rarely of any consequence when it comes to these matters of heart because very few of us are actually left with any hairs owing to this global market slowdown and perhaps also because once we start to grow with our life we become like bundles of accumulated histories, overflowing with our knowledge about everything which doesn’t work and everything that isn’t love that sometimes we end up complicating what happens to be the simplest of all emotions.
Remember the time when we were young and would fall in love so easily and at that instant all that mattered was being in love because being in love seemed to be all the more meaningful and believing in love seemed to all the more believable. Talking of childhood, I remember my friend telling me about her belief that kids like chicken hatched from eggs and hers was a dancing egg because she used to dance quite a lot. She did went onto hold this belief right up till eight grade when probably a health education book got better of her but nevertheless it was easier for her to believe because her theory was so simple as compared to my belief that kids were dropped from heaven straight into a hospital yard with parachutes tied at their backs. Clearly it didn’t took long for my theory to go bust more so because my mom failed to produce the parachute that I came with and really with the amount of preconditions and incredibility that like fine print were attached with my belief it was like a pile of dry leaves, waiting for a wind to blow it away.
This is exactly what we all do to love, we never let it be, we just go on to complicate or I dare say pollute love with all our inhibitions and beliefs or unbelief’s. I just can’t understand mankind’s obsession with untangling everything, why can’t just we accept something’s which are beyond us? I know to think is one of the most fundamental of human prerogative but there are times when you have to let things be for you are only acting as a deterrent by exercising your brain cells but if had it been this easy to detach this jelly inside our head, we for sure would have had a lot to live for in this life.
Finally, given my ignorance and the fact that my college has been closed, I could still feel a preponderance of love in each of the breath I take so much so that I am beginning to wonder if the air around our town has actually gone cleaner but then isn’t it what that happens each year right around this time. I think St. Valentine couldn’t have chosen a better time to die or whatever that he did and really valentine’s day or otherwise it would do all of us a lot of good if we could let that beating and pumping organ decide for us.
Past as Future
Ever wondered how people change, no movie like sound effects or no unbelievably true and colorful SFX and all of sudden everything changes, one minute and an absolute imbecile is miraculously evolved into a sage all resplendent with worldly and other worldly wisdom or vice versa. Just the other day I was walking along the esplanade, using my notebook to shade of the glare from the almost liquefied and hallucinatingly bright tarmac, trying to keep up with my friends who were walking like a rocket with its bottom on fire, more so because of a female who one of us have reviewed to be nail bitingly hot and with her perfect bottom to bosom ratio she did appear to be an epitome of the above said. We walked like men on a mission, quite oblivious of the menacing sun and the burns on our hands and cheeks, just to get a look of the face that adorned that out worldly body but as we grew closer and as her peeping bra straps began to become more obvious, a lot of opinions began to change and later when we walked past her, we realized what a waste it has been to leave the relative safety of the shaded promenade and follow some girl who by the virtue of her peeping underwear and garish lipstick has unanimously been voted as a waste of time, sweat and effort and according some muted voices a probable slut. I was stunned and as I took a moment to take stock of the situation which has so incomprehensibly somersaulted with the poor girl dethroned of her unawarded crown albeit despite of my strong derision towards unconcealed parts of women underclothing’s and loud make up, I couldn’t help but notice how in an instant all the red faced and sweaty and sun caked people walking beside me have all of a sudden gone back on their words and changed. I wondered, as I walked beside them as they still followed that girl for according to their lecherous mind which they so gladly carry around in their crotch’s, they have put a lot to give up on her that easily, that how quickly people can change and with no apparent reason, just like that, like a flutter of an eyelid or sleight of hand, like a cube revolved to reveal a new dimension or pattern. Change is good and apart from love and sex and antagonism, a symbol of our humanity, each step that we ever took and every minuscule of perturbations have made us what we are today, we indeed have come a long way and it’s not the distance or the directions that matter but how much we are able to learn from our past and apply those lessons to make most of our present and this is what a change is. Change is about changing and moving on because to be stuck in life is a disgrace, with time we change and we change our perception and we change our propensities, sometimes change is for good and sometimes it could be debilitating but what is victory without any self immolation. I am not a person whom I was and whatever tomorrow brings I’ll be there with open arms and open eyes, accepting as the whirlwind of change sweep me by but I will always remember what I was because the history that we create each day has made us what we are though we may sometimes want to give up on our past and the encumbrances but believe me past isn’t something which you can simply leave behind because it always has a way of catching up with you and it is far more stronger than you can ever imagine it to be, the only way to deal with your past is to look it in the eye and make peace with it because contrary to the popular notion our history is by and far the most forgiving of all influences in our life.
We walked some more and now with the girl walking in our tow, I felt the deluge of yet another change sweeping by and once again the girl whom we have almost an epoch ago damned to depths of gaudiness was alleviated to her status of hot albeit slutty and as my friends murmured their assent, I came up with a new definition for hot, garish lipstick and pouty lips notwithstanding, as being someone with a perfect breast to hips ratio.
Girls and their Unmentionable
I was in the cafeteria today, standing in the queue waiting for my turn at the cash counter and there was this bombshell, nail-bitingly beautiful girl standing ahead of me. She had a fairy with her wings and wand tattooed on her nape and her hairs were streaked with at least ten different shades of golden brown and she was dressed resplendently in a blue top and blue jeans with matching eyeglasses and nail varnish. She was wearing so much color that she looked like a walking advertisement for Benetton. Anyways she got her coffee and she turned and gave me with one of those I-am-hotter-than-your-coffee looks but it wasn’t her face that I was looking. She was beautiful, gorgeous in fact but there was some black stringy thing running across her shoulder, something that was reminiscent of a hasty decision taken on a hot and sweaty Sunday afternoon when you have to tag along with your mother or girl friend and carry all those shopping bags. That instant she simply plummeted from being a hotter than hell, I-want to-die-for-you chick to someone pathetic, someone not even worthy of a second glance, someone incorrigible because a lady who has gone lengths to color coordinate everything, from the color of her hairs to her nail varnish and who smelt of roses and blooms and wore a 3000 bucks jeans with embellishments, why such a lady couldn’t possibly find something matching, something more elegant to wear underneath her top, is something I couldn’t possibly comprehend. What’s more, it’s not only her, this seems to be the problem with all the females that I see walking around my campus, they are pretty much cautious about Levi’s and Von Dutch knock off’s that they wear but when it comes to their underclothing’s black and white seems to be the color for all seasons. It’s sort of okay with us guys because we people couldn’t possibly differentiate between grey’s and blacks and aborigine and red but these girls who could possibly tell apart and name all the 255 shades in the color palette why can’t they see beyond white and black when it comes to their bras and panties. I get it white is supposed to be the color of virginity and you are pretty much proud of your flower but then it needn’t be drab like a nun’s clothing and there has to some way in between being a virgin and being a witch( which I guess happens to be the plausible motivation behind black undies). No one is actually going to bothered about what you are wearing underneath, as long as you are pretty apt at concealing and as long as you are not wearing something black underneath something white and flimsy and since they’re going to be very few people who will get to see you first hand in those clothing and believe me they too would be pretty much interested in taking them off, so you could most of the time get away by wearing your blacks and whites but ultimately it all comes down to the fact that how much comfortable you are with your own body and how much as a person you love yourself because if you consider yourselves to be beautiful then I don’t think you will ever be hiding yourselves underneath those drab and run of the mill nunnery cloths. They may be your unmentionables but they are also the parts that have make you beautiful and they are the parts that have made you what you really are, so dressing them up nicely, with some lace and frolics is the least you can do for them.
I am not a pervert, believe me and nor I am an employee with the Victoria Secret but I do know something and that is dressing up starts from the very basic and much more than anything it is a reflection of what you think of yourself to be, if you yourself are ill at ease with your body then I don’t think anyone is going to look at you in any other light. A piece of advice finally, please do wear a strapless bra with those spaghetti tops and don’t team up black with anything other than black, unless of course you are really generous and want to give some teenager a reason to walk with a smirk around his face.
