Saturday, October 24, 2009

For you Ma..

For you, I'd walk a thousand miles,
Coz you walked with me through the highs and lows
For you, I'd smile through the rainy days,
Coz you told me that they eventually go away
For you, I'd change my unruly ways,
Coz I want to deserve the pride with which you talk about me
For you, I'd achieve the goals you set
Coz I believe everything you say is right
For you, I'd learn to cook like a dream
Coz anything less won't do justice to what I have grown up with
For you, I close my eyes and believe in God
Coz you told me that He exists
For you, I do everything Ma
And still I am a shadow of what you are
For you, I am the way I am
It is for you that I exist..

Happy Birthday Ma!

Monday, October 19, 2009

Aaj akele rehna hai..

I want to be alone today. No small talk. No long conversations. I don't want to think today. About good things and bad. I want to go out on a walk. Alone. I want to carry my book to a coffee shop and sit and read. I need a coffee shop without people. Because today is a day when I don't understand why people need people. We are good alone. I want to listen to music today. Not the kind of music that reminds me of people around me. But the kind that just stays in the background and drowns out all the noise. I want to write that letter I have been willing myself to write for such along time. Because letters are good. They are conversations where I have all the say. I want to go running. I don't want to play. That takes two people. Don't judge me. It's just the day. I am not anti-social, atleast most of the times. I like being around people. But not today. Today I am best left alone.

Friday, October 16, 2009

Sometimes..

Sometimes you should just say it. The exact words you wanted to. To the people you love. To the friends you missed so much that you hated them for it. To the people you have wronged. Small words. Sorry. I love you. I missed you. How difficult can it be? Don't beat around the bush. Don't think they know. No one does. Till you say it. Eyes don't talk. Silence doesn't mean a yes. A smile doesn't convey everything. Actions are not louder than words.

Sometimes you should not hesitate. You should take that first step. Because sometimes that's all that's needed. Just do your bit. Not always. Just sometimes...

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Home!

Home. I love it. Everything about it. The word itself has so much warmth. I just need to close my eyes and think of home and so many images flash by. The old house with the big garden. Sundays spent with baba, washing the old Maruti 700. Getting thoroughly drenched in the process. Showing off to dada how well I could wash the tyres. And to ma's horror, walking in the kitchen in that wet state with my Bata flip-flops making an imprint as I walked around, scavenging for food. Evenings spent helping ma water the plants. Trying to learn how to trim the plants, but my impatience always got the better of me. I would run away with the water hose and try to make my part of the world dust free. :)


There was a huge mango tree in the garden. Some weird mixed breed of mangoes with which ma used to make world's most amazing pickle. Thanks to that tree, mango season used to subject our house and car to ample stone pelting. Baba's fury used to be on a roll during that time. There were a pair of mongoose who used to live in our garden, next to the drain. Ma used to say they keep away the snakes. That made me like those two weird scrawny creatures.

There were rules. Ma made them. Ma implemented them. Baba used to spoil us. Days started early. An hour of sleep after school, and we were sent to play. Six pm was curfew time. I remember doing sit-ups for being five minutes late. Ma's a teacher and she treated us no differently. We never interrupted when elders spoke. We never argued with elders. Idiot and stupid were taboo words (so they were said behind closed doors while we siblings fought it out). We used to get ten bucks a month as pocket money. I think it was revamped to fifty when we reached eighth standard.

I was an introvert when I was small. Still am in some ways. Complete bookworm. Ma used to teach dada in the evenings. I would sit by the side with my book, looking out for some attention. There was this huge book of bedtime stories. Ma used to read it out to me every night and then put me to sleep. Thakuma had her own set of stories. Stories that these English authors can't compare to. Because they were magically woven out of thin air, depending on the request I made.

Holidays meant seeing ma do pujo in the morning. Hot breakfast and He-Man on TV. We did move on to other equally juvenile shows as we grew up. The Golden ice-cream wala knew our holidays. He would yell out extra loudly on those days in front of our gate. And we would plead. Somedays we would hit the jackpot and get a Chocobar, other days we used to be content with an orange candy.

Heavy rains used to fill up the space in front of the porch with water. We would run out to get wet. Be ready with our boats. Be jealous of the kids who were allowed to run free on the roads. But we would revel in our space. Cross our fingers that a rainy day would be declared in school. The lyrics that come back to me time and again is cliched..but perfect..

वो मासूम चाहत की तस्वीर अपनी,
वो ख्वाबों खिलौनों की जागीर अपनी,
ना दुनिया का गम था, ना रिश्तों का बंधन,
बड़ी खूबसूरत थी वो ज़िन्दगानी.....
वो कागज़ की कश्ती, वो बारिश का पानी....

There is actually no end to the million things that come to my mind when I think of home. We have moved on from that house to an apartment. Its not the same, but it still is home. The warmth is still there in every nook and corner, because its not the bricks and mortar but ma and baba who define home to me. Dada and I have moved on to far away places. Rare are the occasions when we get together. Memories are all that binds us together. Hats off to the two people who have given us this rock solid support to hold on to, in times good and bad. Hats off to ma and baba. I had said this before..that if I could be even 10% of what they are, I would be exceptional!

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Sinking in..

28th September, 2009

Place – Sampoorn Kranti train (somewhere in Bihar)`

I really should stop cribbing. Yes, my seat is such that only my size can fit in. That too, barely. There is an infant sitting next to me whose shrill voice even my ipod can’t drown. There is a lecherous guy sitting in front of me, who is staring away to glory with his beady eyes. And now that I have written all this, I feel better. J I am listening to Iktara. I remember telling someone that there are songs which I put in the genre of ‘travelling songs’. You know, the ones which go along with the rhythm of the train. This is one of them. Cliched but Denver’s ‘Country road, take me home’ also fits the bill perfectly. And so does Annie’s song.

Something about these long journeys alone, that makes me take stock of my life. Not in a very serious where am I headed way. But just, in a lighter ‘I am glad my life is the way it is’ way. J Sam got married. Divs says she almost feels orphaned. So do I. Sri and I still have that deal with Sam about living in her attic. That’s how its always been. She takes care of us. Cooks for us. Spoils us and then gives us an earful for all the mischief that we are perpetually upto. This is what we are used to, what I am used to. There is this comfort which comes with inertia, and its so hard to let go of it. I remember Sam making it a point to meet the guy I was going out with for dinner and asking him to drop me at a decent hour. Poor Gajju dropped me home diligently, well before time. J I still am scared of her. Always will be. I guess it happens when you adore someone so much. Sri was right, not even an MBA can cure that. Probably, I’ll teach my kids better.

So that’s a change. A big one. So big that I can’t even begin to put down in words. It will take a while for this to sink in. Till then, I shall stay in my comfy world where the mental image is still of school days, of phuchkas bought with borrowed money, of bombs in the bathroom, of bunking lectures to sit in the home science room to discuss movies, of getting caught for pranks we did and even those we weren’t a part of, of friends so close that not meeting them for even a day seemed insane. That was almost eight years back, and yet I choose to ignore the years in between and pretend that nothing’s changed.

Moving on, this year was the year of extremes. Extreme happiness, many teary eyed days, some of the best laid plans went awry and then again, life threw in a fair share of pleasant surprises and happy moments. Its comfy to know that the worst days pass eventually and just as scary to realize that happiness is shortlived.

I could write about Sunshine, but talking about her would take another post altogether. More about that later. For now, yes life is different. Different from what it was a few months back. In ways good and bad. But that’s always the case. I like it this way. Gives me ample opportunities to crib my heart out. But every night, before I sleep off, I thank my stars that there is something good around. With this thought, I drift off. More later!