Moonie

At each sunset gold,
When the day grows old
Into imbecile second childhood,
Warmth returned with the moon cold.

In the twilight hues of love,
In dusky remembrance of loved ones,
The outing was perfect cast,
Star diamonds adorned the lass.

Like a dream fairy she(night) sang,
Mellow voicings of love pangs.
Rekindle the magic, moved the wand.
Blessed she a diamond(star) from her casket.

For the countless others,
Who prepare to mislay without a romantic din,
She stripped her diamonds onto dew-eye drops,
As morning outdid the soothe caress.

She staggered again
Bathing in love aura, moonlit,
To preach the only thing
That matters anymore-
LOVE

P.S I guess a lot of posts are pending. Brief time off is working wonders for me- The travel, the time with family, its all so heavenly. Home food! I would be back to each of you sooner than you anticipate :) Lets bask in this brief hiatus :)

Awards Ceremony!

Heavy eyes, goading for the bed and the consciousness of end-semester exams- Between these radical horizons I opened my PC to do some reading stuff। As usual, they had a way of surprising me. I dread the day; I would be off from computer- internet in particular. The tomorrow doesn’t sound as fascinating without the infinite possibilities a mail can bring, a message can impact! But today was different- inbox was empty and things to do list had a single line- “Study, Read, Cram- go through the rote one last time.” Truly auspicious beginning to the day, wont you say? But for a lazy me, it called for dozing off. Yeah, I hit the bed again! But the thoughts wouldn’t let me waver freely in sleep. Two hours hence, I start STUDYING. The motivating lectures were enough to spank up the timid determination. This marked blog time!

Butterfly award- by a co-blogger ensured I didn’t have a drought in terms of awards with this year. The year had almost dawned and I given up. But the infinite possibilities the internet can bring! A butterfly of hope, of colours adorns my blog. Thanks a tone- Usha, Ma’am! Goosebumps!

For the rules!

1. Put the logo on the blog.

2. Add a link to the person who presented it to you.

3. Pass this one, and link other bloggers that you'd like to share it with.

I would like to pass the baton to:

Impulsive,Me

Chandni

Piper

Marvin

Alien

Mahita

Life For Rent?

Instead of stressed, lie here I charmed;

Ergo vestal emotions swanned unarmed.

The tempting indulgence- Laziness.

A Love, everyone chooses to abuse,

A jitter, circumstance wouldn’t excuse।

Peered around he amid passions spent,

Escape from reason his intent,

The tempting indulgence- Laziness.

Cosmic Silence. Muddled Identities?

Individually Multiple? Multiply Alone?

Entirety in hindsight is comic,

Deserved scanned an eye skeptic.

The tempting indulgence- Laziness.

Every me for every you?

Borrowed? Spent?

The comfort came calling late,

Wondered he, was anything ever at stake?

The tempting indulgence- Laziness.

The cling. The swing.

A Life for rent?

P.S. Those who are giving it a second read, I modified it a bit. Just felt like doing so :)
The tempting lazy indulgence.----The tempting indulgence- Laziness.

Lost Innocence!

The deadlines were approaching thick and fast. As usual the workload was piling up. It was snail’s pace versus the Hercules. He was uninterested, if not anything else, to say the least. He took to the report his partner had framed and turned it into shreds. He recalled all his lessons and frightfully they were too many of them. The English lessons, common sense lessons, building lessons et al. After all he was brought up being fed on knowledge bytes. Soon he found himself to be buoyed down by the weight. The weight of pretense, the weight of expectation, the weight of futility! He dragged because his partner thought he could, they thought he would and he thought he should. No other logic could deny this over exaggerated simple lemma.

He bid his time as time bypassed him।

More than once, he was tempted to let go of it as he saw the nonchalance of others, but something in him inexplicably wouldn’t let him. Maybe he was so gripped by vexation that he was ready to drop his armor and find his way through, once and for ever. But he knew it would come back like the water under the bridge it would go on.

He was gripped in a bundle of contradictions.

He veered out of his room. His home bound friends were already back- back with talks, back with eatables! He thought he had found respite. Lo and Behold! He really had! In the mess of packets, peeking out was the Raj Comics edition of नागराज and सुपर कमांडो धृव! An initiation of introduction sorts would definitely end up being “हम Cholromint क्यूँ खाते है?” “दोबारा मत पूछना”. Don’t even give it a second thought!

He had new found energy and zeal to conquer his dilly dallies. He strode to the room with new zeal and the pride of a conqueror king with the prized possession in his hands. He scanned, skimmed and dodged through the report. It was a laborious task nonetheless. But he rubbed it aside with zeal and vigor. The ceiling no longer seemed to cast the same dry shade of white, it was different. The world suddenly shrunk. How?

How? How is but the form of following the function of Why.

Why? He wanted to be done away with the present and slip into oblivion- slip into the tangled innocence of comic days. He fathomed all his stupidity to roam in the land of magical belief albeit the worldly presence.

Why? Because there are no certainties there are only opportunities.

He kept staring at the ceiling long after he was done with the reading. He thought to himself that maybe he needed a place where he could strip to his stupidity and play around with his foolishness. His heavy eyelids feared the silent screams of the dreams as they prepared to be weighed down by the ceiling.

Accompany me, Will you?

The world reeled under his feet. Drifting away in circles! The clamp carted the wheels and it clanged its baritone, in anticipation of the meet. As the intensity grew louder, he could hazily make out the waving hands. His journey had started. A fulfilling time off at home to the inevitable back to workplace the time span seemed too narrow. The world is definitely mean in the sense that we can’t clutch to all that we want. He took to his seat and saw around. Nothing! Not even a single guy in the compartment? Suddenly a train of thought gripped him and he began to wander back to the home days- the merry making, the laziness, the LOVE. It filled him with renewed vigor and the urge to be return home soon.

Time passed. Few passengers boarded the AC compartment, still a very few! He was cramped; the cozy seat was too unyielding to smooth dreams. The blank outside threatened of greater sins elsewhere. It was all deafeningly silent, the likes which he never liked! The happy prospect of friends filled him and the happy days edged him to a sleep. He dreamt about the beauty of everything- tangible to intangible, real to surreal!

Alas! The morning was too nearby- lurking in the horizon. Seldom has a day passed with silent mornings. Mornings seems to rub off the vitality in everyone. Mornings are like new beginnings as if the world is going to last for a day. Nonetheless the feeling wears down as the day progresses but reassumes and reinforces itself the next morn. So there he was, awakened with all the noises that raked the mouse off the carriage! He jumped up did his brushing and unpacked the cookies he had brought to eat. It took him sometime to really gasp that his woes of a lonely journey is coupled with the train’s slow locomotion. Certain shades of reality would have donned his face. But how could he know? How could he imagine that wrinkles play a facial game? He had never thought he could replicate emotions in face- He wasn’t an actor.

By evening he was disgusted by the smell of the carriage, the airlessness of it. He made his continuous tours to the door. The wind grazed his brazen face. The wind was so alien that he was reminded of his home instantaneously. He hardly realized that the train was screeching to a halt. Snapped he was from his thoughts and suddenly he found a face- radiating the smoothness of known, the warmth which he was attached with. He wouldn’t mistake the cutting, the color of her face. She had to be her. He was sure of himself; his memory of his school was so vivid to betray him. Then he mustered courage to question her- he couldn’t think of anything else! His purpose was defeated when he heard a flat no. He wondered!

Back to boredom, he was fleeting with the wind when she called for him. Another twist in tale! He had his suspicions back with him by then. But he let them go. She radiated the kind of eager enthusiasm and radiant enigma that he lived in the moment. He was glad that he gave chance a chance to win and wasn’t he excited? She was the random flower and he became the buzzing bee. Like a magic tale it lingered. It all happened as if it were destined. She was everything. She displayed all her facets in that short span, but he was sure it was just a tip. He was getting ready with the ski board to jump head long into the iceberg!

The curl by her ear,
Eerie thoughts by the sear,
Wrinkled the sun beams with the lear!

That was all he could say, he could realize-before her stop came! Some story in his childhood had warned him to be cautious of strangers and boiled eggs. He was happy that books weren’t the sole experience of godliness. Good things are bound to happen rather unexpectedly!

Time of My Life!

It has been eons since I had a totally grumpy afternoon and I decide to pick the rags from the riches of my computer hard drive. Time grabbed me by the wrist and directed me to Green Day’s- Time of your Life. So lost was I in its connotation, its import that I decide to overcome the laziness and write a post rather earlier than my usual snail speed.

For the uninitiated, I am in my last year of undergraduate studies (Of course until unless my college people decide otherwise). The rate with which I let myself to be tamed by time is rather obnoxious. The comparisons are nauseous. The equivalences between a-then-me and a-now-me are non existent. I could never recollect a day when I went to exams unprepared।Alas! It was a story which existed only in then time frames! I hardly remember the last time I took to serious preparations! My exams came and went with a jiffy. But did I wonder for a second as to what it meant to be so oblivious? The care free me forgetting to bring in the calculators for the exams and not even letting it affect me in the aftermath does speak volumes of my negligence, doesn’t it? For the other exam I didn’t give a damn just because the others weren’t looking too committed either. So I can be pardoned for that sin! But the day next when I had one off the important papers- What did I do for preparations? Play the whole evening. Started reading at 10- Stopped by 10.45 and slept till the exam. So much so that it didn’t affect me like anything. An ant crawled over a goofy fur? Enough room for my carefree no-matter-what attitude? I leave space to tumble myself in the ignominy of my former self. But then do I matter? Even in the former outfit? Just for the record Am I giving in too easily or do these things don't deserve the look? I Am just curious! Are all the bricks in the wall same or is mine different?

So much so for the time of my life!

The people I would like to be around at present, doing the things I miss doing are sitting elsewhere in some other part of the world. Now all I yearn for is a neat dossier of chat which at some point was much more than life capsules. I am learning to live with it. I am learning to be aimless. I am learning to be the crowd in crowding sphere! May be perhaps it is a juncture in time? A fork still struck on the road? I am being cast in outcast role. My sentences are silent and my eagerness slimed. Do I need to cut through? To fight for all that could be mine? The juice really worth the squeeze? Is moral fibers not mean clinging to what you like? I am still passive. Maybe I want this spell to get over. But I am struck with a jinx. I don’t know how to distinguish when nothing ends and something begins? Help me guys!

Eating Sugar... No PAPA!

I, for one, had always been associated with food as much as anything else. This is one identity which unites my many other false individualities. I own to it quite blithely! Period.

For me it is not merely a “breaks time” between the episodes of me being alive and kicking। Within the constitution of this life sentence we all succumb to the dark temptation of food. The sensation of taste is intimated with sequences small and large that we tend to overlook its import. The taste of success, the taste of life, the taste of love et al revolves and bonds around the smell of good food. No wonder all the winsome moments in life call for good food. Let it be a Date or a Treat- Good food has the uncanny knack of transfusing hypnotism in the sphere. It falsifies environ to soothe, the talks to mellow, the air smells reasonable and its scent to intoxicate!

Is this just a frameless mechanism? Is it one of the things which illudes once in a while? Perhaps we can never know! Perhaps maybe the ‘patient’ waiting in a restaurant bears testimony to it. It can’t be just a sheer coincidence how good food can heal so many things unnoticeably, as stealthily as silent thoughts! It would always be an understatement how good things start with food. A city is as much known for its cultural dimensions as much as it is for its special cuisines. These are so intertwined that Lakhnabi Kebabs and Hyderabadi Biriyani potentially can catalyst a conversation to flush between any we-don’t-know-each-other.

Mom’s cuisine tastes all so heavenly, for the food has her smell- the one smell which I can never emulate while I cook. Blinkingly, I travel my dinner! Good food is not any other food that tastes good! Good food stimulates body, as much as Rum can stimulate the brain. The romance is to be lived over and over again! For it won’t ditch you, it would manifest itself in others forms and catch you- a blind eye and a equally absurd mouth (claiming that any food tasting good is good food) have their reasons to be FISHY(pun intended).

P.S. It just ogled out when I was trying to dissuade my friend, making him see the difference between food that tastes good and good food.

When the Ball hit the Pitch!

He reached there with a dream, and if anything, his last screaming kicks with the team flooded his dreams. The team, he had learn to play with, the only team he could play with and be injured for. He had lived with the dream and he had prepared to let everything in for that. He looked up and he found solace, for he had his favorite player of his dreams in his very team. If Real had a Sergio Ramos, we sure had one who could lift us from any situation, score goals, defend, give life (Even take one) each time he touched the ground. He knew he had to support his Ramos this time with his life.

The first thing he did after he threw his bags to the corner of an allotted hall- check out the pitch. He gulped down his own disappointment. Rollers! Bulldozers! Not a single blade of grass! To couple the woes, the ball was bouncing too alarmingly and the flanks were pebbled with concrete! He was promised match under floodlights- he for sure had the match under floodlights. Suddenly he found others claiming nonchalantly about the pitch, that the dream fever gripped him on. The team hurried through the opening ceremony for they had been scheduled for the third match of the night. He stayed back with Ramos to watch the first half of the first match. Teams looked good, competent but scoring goals looked a herculean tasks given the pace and bounce of the pitch! Nonetheless they managed to sneak one in.

He had a few silent words with Ramos, who like all great leaders had the uncanny knack of motivating with right words. I shall remember those words forever. “You might loose a tackle, look foolish but the collective foolishness of this sort would invoke anxiety in any team”. So sure was he with his football spikes that he needed the ball and the team to melt under his welt. He let out the fears, for he only had place to fill himself with passion. He went into the game, egging others to shed the side talks.

He started with his customary left flank, defending and assisting the mid fielders। Patrolling back and forth, looking up to Ramos for the inspiration-for the geniuses। They had tackled well, defenders sold their sweats and the forwards pushed for inches in the uncontrollable twitching field. Meanwhile goalkeeper grabbed a brilliant save to spur the team on. He had by now moved to the midfield to assist Ramos and let all others to blink their tries at the goals. It was not coming. Alas! Luck isn’t a non existent quantity! It was not to be his day!

He stepped unto take his penalty with the score line reading 2-3, he had his vision and bartered his luck. He netted it in and fervently hoped that at least the luck can’t turn a blind eye now. He was wrong. He lost. His team lost. The team he was playing for the final time in a tournament. He was devastated. Perhaps, he should have dreamt about luck and luck solely!

Letter to letter!

Dear Mr Chaddhaji urf Rajaji,

Guess this note shall find two more little chickens dead, before you actually read this। But your small act of intimidating violence would perhaps be negligible in terms of terror your dear roomie invoked tonight. Let me sprinkle a few details for the readers who might want to peep in!

The day started with a hunt down for cake. Finally we settled for a Choco-Walnut-Eggless cake. Eggless because certain creatures like John g Buss detest the concept of egg-chicken-egg. As most of the uncivilized tummies are at home, taking civil lessons (namely Gol and your humble self), hence the Choco Walnut। The whole idea of peaceful cake-gobbling ceremony was taken apart into shreds। Not so because the invitees, thought otherwise but because like a man of action, the scene caught on with DM Saab (Birthday Boy)। The longer the John took to blow-in the candles the keener were his faculties and intentions becoming। By the time the candles were needed to be blown off, he had already gathered all his intentions and strength.





No wonder, John was the first in line. Then came Chintu in line and so on it went. Dood Dengzongpa’s clean face was not lost on his eyes. He watched each and all and wrecked havoc. Even, our old Budhau wasn’t spared, not even a semblance of respect. So excited and rampant was he that even the white shirt of mine didn’t get past him. Needless to say, the maimed junta was trying to make the scapegoat out of Chintu. Alas! That was not to be. DM saab is becoming too vocal in his support for black people!

It resulted in DM saab chatting on phone and others fleeing to the wash basin। After initial clean ups, Chintu decided changing his shirt even after being fore warned once and over. Taken aback with fury or maybe promised special privileges (@ night. Gol had left earlier in the day) John proposed the customary bumps. C as usual dreamt that we can do the impossible- lift him. DM saab agreed exclusively to John’s demands, i.e. Only John was entitled to lift him. The generosity/benevolence on DM saab’s part had filled John with shame and he decided to let go of it.


It was the time for round two। The junta was devising plans in whispers. But mainly it revolved around retaliating against his venom. Few suspecting characters like Chingaari baadshah and respected Budhau kept distance and stealthily walked up to Manu. Like the experienced campaigner, he was ready. His plans flawless- execution perfect. Such had been his preparation. Before anything could happen, he ordered a bottle of DEW for himself. As the non-suspecting carefree party goers accumulated near the counter- up he went. Even the dreamy eyed rubbish was not spared.

By then John was overcoming his fear (We suspect he had been promised extended privileges @ night)। He managed to goad Manu in his own distinct hainnnn style, and accumulated the vegetarian stuffs which he could smear and DM saab would loathe. That was half a glass of curd! Gullu C (In between his rounds of running and getting saved) managed to pick up the sauce cum jam pichkari.

Yes. That was all that could be inflicted on him. But his evil designs were no-where near to be coming to an end. He ordered a bottle of DEW again. Can you see people running helter-skelter? With the exercise for the day done, he calmed down physically. He made a deal- Handing in Chintu for the rest of us. There is no one more experienced in these matters than Chintu. He had smelled his unbecoming, so he disappeared into the darkness (pun intended).

Such had been the colossal day. When the whole of the country prepares to sway independently, we were running for cover.

Taking your leave,
Yours sincerely,
C wingers.



P.S. Your room still lies in stink cum cake paste condition. John somehow managed his dream night amidst the bakk in his room. DM saab is spending the day lavishly in Gol’s bed. Digi Dev has privileged your room earlier in the day. It goes without saying unable to satiate his techie arrows, DM had a point to prove. Only too bad that we were the ones who were hunted! Hope this gives you enough reasons to feel ashamed and guilty.

Individually Multiple ??

He fought in vain. The sleep was no-where near to be. He looks above at the blank ceiling for some time- hoping the white colours heavies the brows. But it was not to be. Disgusted, he gets up and fills himself a glass of water. With only the maddening silence of the white walls, he sat around balcony overlooking a small field.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Earlier in the day, he found himself in this very different city. Different to what he was used to both in terms of size- Oversize and Micro-size (:D). But he found it difficult to come in terms with the city-partly because he felt feverish throughout the journey and partly because he had never met this aunt of his.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As he let the flowing air fill his conscience, he began to look around to confirm his bearings. He had been the newest imported victim- of the perennial power cuts. He wondered if this was a way of harassing people who never did their homework in time. He hated power cuts for it meant long hours of isolation- He would miss cartoon networkL. Mom had already left for shopping with her sister. He was never considered for markets, for he had distaste towards bargaining. His mom would always complain of his failing towards the value of money, much to his chagrin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maybe the field was not so small after all. The toddlers’ feet came rushing at the stroke of 5 pm. The timing was amazing, the synchrony perfect. With one loud call all the tiny tots filled the ground. The ground seemed gigantic for the tiny steps. The boundaries were shortened, the stumps drawn erect. How he wished the kids opted for hide and seek? He would have monitored each of their places with a frigging grin. After all these kids now a day’s learn the intricacies of cricket much before they are knowledgeable to games like hide and seek. He mused at the change! Was this only confined to this new city?

All drawn, the question wrested on team division. As usual a hue and cry was raised for the choice of first player. They recounted yesterday’s division and so on it went. Note worthy was not the cacophony, rather the way each one of them argued about the player number one, as if the whole team was divided and they were cashing for the extra slot. More surprisingly, it was a she-The only girl amongst the players. The senior most (at least he looked so) settled the issue and the teams were finally partitioned.

He had already foreseen the quarrel for bat first issue. But that was not to be. He was pleasantly surprised. The sight of tiny toddlers reaching for the ball, running shouting made for the beautiful sight. He felt not all was that different from his own city. The plaintive joys devoid of any malice marked the gentleman’s game. Just when, he was beginning to believe that his time was spent for good, things took unexpected turns. Although the jarring of fan had announced the arrival of notorious electricity he decided not to budge.

The tiniest of the tiny had gone into bat. He had quite a bad time in the middle. His team members demanded that he retire himself out. But he was not willing to die down. The captain suddenly comes down to the pitch and orders him to leave the pitch and declare himself out. The non-striker was supporting the cause. Things worsened, slangs were thrown (:O). Unexpected?
The declared out batsmen with a heavy face, watery eyes went off to his home. Few deliveries later he came back, this time accompanied by her sister. She had the questioning glance all over her gaze. She reprimanded him- the way an elder sister does when she feels he needs her protection. The tone of hers got better. She had turned friendly after her initial rebukes. She had even made them shake hands!

He was anxious. He was waiting eagerly for the reel to roll over. He kept hoping that the sister leaves and allows the kids to settle their matter themselves. But the serial dragged on. Just as when he expected the final end, he drew up to the edge of the seat. But there was something else. It virtually rained on his hopes. And it rained big. Perhaps he had yet not come to terms with the city. Just maybe!

LOST IN RAIN

Steps behind steps, he walked away, aghast,
Maimed, through the mirror, into past.
Rough smoothed into crass effervescence..
Meanders he in rain perturbed silence.

Will he be heard?

Drenched in converging longings,
Whistled he, mellow singings.
Should he take a step back?
To embrace it all back?

Will he be heard?

Neglected. Lost. Dreamy.
Vapoury thoughts, Hazy environ.
Warm tears of rain,
As steps trail the steps again.

Will he be heard?

When he said nothing at all...

He lay listless। Rather against his wishes! The buzz in his hand hinged with impatience.

“Ah! Well a-day! What evil looks
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung”

Indeed the cross of albatross was wrung around his hand, with a prickly needle. He looked up in hope of breaking out of this nightmare. Alas! All he could see, drop-by-drop reminder of his non-existence. A bottle of glucose took ages to pump in her soul, only to be replaced by another. It was twilight; it had rained the day before. The cool breeze brought in the smell of fresh guavas and the memories dropped him into a lumber. Everything was perfect, except him.

The plethora of wishful thinking filled him. The hum in his head got louder. He was still expressionless. The effort worthy of applause, for any wrinkles would invite “Don’t TAX yourself”. The lazy and sleepy days ticked with clock and he no longer needed drops of life. How happy he was! He let aloud a grunt. He made for two ringing circles around the bed sprightly. That was all he could do. PITY! That much for 5 days of glucose, he had to recline to bed. Things came crashing again.

Incidentally, his memory cells realized he could only vaguely recall the musings of the last day। Diagnosis of pre-coma had called for relatives-near and far। The number of people sitting by him and the hands mopping his head- he failed to recount. He had hoped the glucose would run the magic wand in his life. It did, albeit his wishes were enormous for the recovery. He chewed his own lips and let out a silent grunt. The silence of the glum day, the silence of thoughts- it was deafening.


Hours passed, Days passed. He was permitted to sit for few minutes. He was allowed idiocy of idiot box. All he thought was, the grass is getting greener this side! The Euro-Cup would keep him busy between the rounds of his sleep. If he managed few more hours, Wimbledon was waiting for him. He watched them with the intensity he knew, even if he knew the results (He wasn’t allowed the late night Euro-Cup matches, he settled for the recorded version of it in the morn).

Slowly, he was getting grasp of things back again. No longer was the puppet held by strings from all the sides. Internet, Restricted home food and bouts of listening. His place was swarming with people, and he caught up with lost relations and interesting gossips. The only thing he didn’t realize then- Time had turned foes with him and was flying away against his wishes. He counted the number of days and rather dutifully he bade a good bye and started off his vigil elsewhere.

Wonderful isnt it? How a com(m)a changes the sentences of life!

Questions Galore!

Since long!! Let’s recollect the reactions of transpired moments.

The last blog entry saw me rushing head long into the end semester exams. Yeah more importantly the “SE”mester was drawing to a close after a series of successful( not so eventually) presentations. Precariously enough, I dug out through another subject. Ahh, the holidays! They should rather be re- named as holydays, for their amazing way of cleansing minds (Good food had always been the stimulant. The whetstone for all the things big and large :P) and spirits (sleep).

Bus to Mumbai was scheduled at 8, so I did pack my bags in a jiffy. Yeah, I caught up on the last day of football with seniors. The sleep conjured images all bright and plaintively astonishing. Did I mention earlier, I was speeding to Bombay to meet my married cousin? The whole of mom’s place seemed to be flooding the flat and the next and the next. 25 odd! Kids--- kindergarten, “chaar foot do inch” etc etc had given enough reasons the other building members to cast a brow. Interestingly enough, the atmosphere was unwilling to die down, even though it was five days past to D-day.

Bhabhi got the first taste of oriya life. It won’t be a understatement if I say, she was dumbfounded not just by the eating habits but the quantity too. She tried but failed to assimilate how the pantha bhaath(rice water. Sorry I don’t know how best to elaborate that), fishes, dried pickles could melt away all the tiredness of the day (Marketing that is. Would grind through it in due course of time)? I had the luxuries if a KFC and McDonald nearby. No wonder, it was the most inexplicable scene before a dietician, who believes rice eating is either for feeble and chaps with lot of physical labor. No wonder the simplest of things are harder to digest for the knowledgeable. But she wouldn’t fret, and each and everyone sans the kids and me (I never admitted that I was hooked to cool drinks), were meted a long list of dietary habits for free. Doctors aren’t so bad after all!

Shopping, Marketing I thought was occasion specific. The myth was shattered to shreds. The gleam in the eyes was a sight in itself. I was invariably dragged to market as the coolie man. I didn’t flinch a bit for it provided me ample opportunities to corner each aunt and uncle in turn. This meant a lot of baggage both physically (as usual I put on weight) and literally (My half full onward bag was converted to a nospaceforair thing). Sorry for diverting, I should be concentrating on the surrounding not me. My point was, purchasing or no purchasing, the sight of market stimulated “ladies” to no end. The prospect of bargaining seemed to be the only game they played from grade two.

Twas part one of marketing. Now comes the part two. It strictly consists of jewels. Do people not get surprised if you fetch onion when you were asked to purchase “Aloo”? Then how would the same set of persons—“PERSONS OF WISDOM” enter a pearl shop, when they debated and decided to have GOLD? ( If you get through the logic, please ping me. Even otherwise, life’s getting boring)

The train journey was taken up in getting the limelight for being the next SCAPEGOAT. Yes, I am second in line. Select a gujju girl, Punjabi girl blah blah blah(The pronounced effect of a Punjabi marriage). The words of wisdom came from various mouths ranging from 6 years to 80 years. DAMN! In between all the pestering and love, I was to stop the kid-errands! Think of fetching a 6 year old three bogeys down, playing EA sports on someone’s cell! Did I forget to mention the plate of shrimps (specially packed for me :D) between the rounds of hugs?

Thus, engaged I did fulfill my eventful journey. Biked my way from the station into the newly A/C’ed room. Statement1: Are you taking medicines on time? Statement2: Today chicken! This marked the beginning of food festival for me. Chicken, Mutton,Lobster,Prawns,Crabs, Chowmein and Eggs! Wait I forgot to add PaniPuri and the sweet dose of steam cakes. The order may not be necessarily the same. Found time to catch up on IPL, friends-- lost in time, lost in space. Yeah, like all good things it came to an end!

This post reminds me of the bountiful home and the train journey!

Tag'd

Days of hard work and it gets nullified by a single non- validation! Yeah, I have no other thing going in my mind, so giving this tag a go. How grateful shall I remain to Buddha to tag me, only time shall test!

Last Movie Seen in Theatre

Hmmm… hmmmm.. Wait I think I have turned a full cycle. No “theatre movie” :O this sem. “Om Shanti Om” was my last with a multiplex.
Good? Bad? Passable?
Remember Deepika?

Book Being Read

If(e-books satisfy the criteria)

{

“Chariots of the Gods”- Erich Von Danniken. God or astronauts? Pictures of earth’s panorama even when fire was unknown to human kind!

}

Else

Academic books, notably on filters (never grasped what they filter in and what they filter out).

Favourite Board Game

Was interesting to note, in other tags, how games slipped past with years. Rules still change in my dictionary almost everyday as we(Me, Mom and brother) argue over the board(Caroms, Monopoly or Ludo). The games which captivated me as a kid- Lexicon and Instant cricket.

Favourite Magazine

Duhh.. Havent been on any from ages. Science Reporter and Wisdom with all the promises to the exalted sphere of intelligentsia, were previewed with vigor. Alas! It was once upon a time!

Favourite Smells

Wet earth. ( Much had been artistically said about them)

Smell of a perfectly laid football pitch.

Oddly enough, diesel smells good.

And yes, the ‘smell’ of exotic mom’s cuisines.

Favourite Sounds

Droplets of rain from the asbestos to the grills to the water puddle. Period.

The rhythm of a march past( read the scouts escapades).

The group of storks fluttering their wings in the pond while you nestle in some tree branch.

What is the first thing you think of when you wake up?

Check my cell to be informed of the TIME!

Worst feeling in the world

Going through one now. When all your hard works are not even looked upon. Coupling it up with the tag “COPIED”.

Sitting in the audience and seeing your team lose.

Favourite Fast Food Place

Anything, anywhere.

Aap main aur DEW ki bottle?

Future Child’s Name

Aahh.. Mom has already reserved the rights! SORRY ya.

Finish this statement, “If I had a lot of money I’d…” go to all sorts of places to see MANCHESTER UNITED play.

Do you drive fast? Quite a lot by mom’s standards. Otherwise, it mainly depends on MOOD!

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? No. Of course not.

Storms - Cool or Scary? COOL.

Do you eat the stems on broccoli? “Zara ORIYA mein samjhayiyega”. I eat on Albert R. Broccoli 007 movies.

If you could dye your hair any colour, what would be your choice? Black. My hairs are getting white!

All towns/cities you have lived in Balasore, Bhadrak, Berhampur, Bhubaneswar, Kolkata, Hyderabad, Mumbai, Gandhinagar.

Favourite sports to watch Football. Nothing compares to the nascent magic of football in move.

Cricket(read India),Hockey ( read brother), Badminton (read Dad)…hmmmm WWE as a child. :P.

One nice thing about the person who sent this to you “He has words of WISDOM gathered over experience. Don’t overlook them”

What’s under your bed?

A suitcase locked with dirty secrets and dark fantasies. Pair of sports shoes. Hmmm and a lots of dust.

Would you like to be born as yourself again? Yes. But as a younger sibling.

Morning person or night owl?

Someone said: - “Dawn is the time when men of reason take to bed”.

Over easy or sunny side up?

Feed back me on that.…

Favourite Place to Relax

Present State: Galla.

Wishful State: Village. With the echoing silence of time.

Favourite Pie

Chocolate Pie. Never tried anything else.

Favourite Ice Cream

Butter Scotch, Anything with Chocolate.

Ahhh.. The easiest part. Hmmmm

I pass the baton to Tuli, Evil(ution), Malvika.

Life After Coffee

He is restless. He is flummoxed by the hopelessness of it all. He abhors it. Period.

It all started with a foolish promise- Be Regular! So he decides to give it a go. Even the sight of his colleagues’ recluse to the old comforts, after a week, did not deter him. Interestingly, this did not go un-noticed. Proof- The stack of PRS (Sophisticated instruments for marking attendance) lying on his table. See, nothing was left to fate! The first unconscious attempt (unwell) to miss a class resulted in missing a POP quiz. He took it in his positive stride and waged on.

Life seemed not so difficult. The football days, the chocolate sundaes blended itself well with the presented time. He could manage to enjoy his college fest! Good times? Time changed gears. Screws were tightened. The work re-enforced itself and had to be re-iterated (Damn! No other. Sentence could even come close to explain the work process or the flow model). The load got better of him, yet he didn’t betray the conscious effort of being regular. He tried. He slogged.

(More deliberations on the above pic can be found here)

Twelve days to the final exams. He realizes other courses have stiffened the bottle neck too. He frowned at the futility of it all. The aimless, he of last semester- to the present him, the transformation seems to be wasted. At least he is made to believe that.

Walking is he, with the constant tag at his neck- “Work Pending”. Even football lost its taste. He cribs. He sulks but he is working. The struggle no more is the promise to the exalted regularity. Rather to move down the alley in twelve days. Sight of exams were never more welcome than today. He surmises and has a quiet laugh at past. He did his shoe lace right and made sure to polish them, when he was a kid! Today he finds pushed about by time. Not passing it, rather allowing times to by-pass him.

He looks at the week next. Presentations and exams are lined up from Monday to Friday. He mops his hair, allows a wicked cruel smile. He reminds himself to book a ticket home sooner. He is happy!

Moral of the Story: Don’t let yourself bound by obligations! Else the memento mori will have its say!

When he was ALONE.....

He stood gaping at his shadow,
In weird thoughts and distant memories,
By cold snaps piercing the quietness,
Besides himself, he wailed her name,
Brusquely it came and stumbled he, in tame.

When tormenting thoughts encircled,
Swayed he in dreams, disturbed.
All he conjured,
The dimpled beam on the face,
And the little curl besides the ear।

The casting lamp forlorn,
He walked loud with anklets worn.
Reaching her breath on his skin,
And her impelling hair on his fingers, akin.
Peered he with eyes wide shut.

He traced her smile from faking memory,
Feeling through the soft length of her body.
He waits the evening of split wine.
Imprinting illusions of reality.
The lovers dream they had seen!

The Train She Never Took

It all started with the innocuous of scraps. Hail Orkut! Your stumbling upon anyone from remote past is nothing short of miraculous. Series of scraps, fervent replies, the feeling of childhood rejuvenating – The circle spun on. Unlike most things, the fervour didn’t die. The little complaints, held for long needed answers. All in all the cement, the mortar for the next wall was totally bridged. Scraps to instant messages the transition was virtually unnoticed.


As it seemed, there could be no end to talks, came the lull. The period of no scraps, no gtalk pings! Exams! Like all bad things, it had a good side. It wouldn’t be insanely Herculean to gather a force to loathe exams. Just the degree varied with persons as did the language. The end of exams marked the lengthier nights to be filled with so called acts. Coincidentally, both he and she began to talk beyond the past into present. Life of speculations, life of relationships!

The online chatting really does pioneer in getting hideous scandals revealed. For reasons difficult to fathom, it’s always easier grieving over chat or a phone than in face. The case in point was no different. It looks even more ridiculously childish; when rather than drawing nodding sympathy he gets mocking lols (grins). Soon enough the minutes of past and present gets done with. Yet, the diminished eagerness lingered. Gtalk seemed passé! Messages and calls! So much so that the usual decency of leaving out of rooms in search of alone space was lost on the frequency of calls. The attractions seemed aplenty, but reality lay somewhere far off.

Things lead to one another and the whole world conspired with the fate। They were to meet! How absurd did it sound? For each knew the other with flummoxing familiarity credited to close friends. They were to see the other growing out of digital snaps for the first time. It was she who rang up, and fixed the place. He was quite unsure of the place, and loitered around to find the smiling face. The so called mandatory hand-shakes backwashed into a period of nerve wrecking silence! No words, even to the point of stammering!Time eased them through the initial hiccups. Maybe to reduce the state of animated silence, they decided to move out to a quieter junction, perhaps to a food station!

So did they march along with the nonchalant questions of present well being and so on। The food did wonders; nothing else could have otherwise explained the radical visible changes. Then it happened! The first touch! She took his arm and gave a peg and he didn’t mind it a bit. When the caressing did melt the hours, was beyond comprehension on after thought. But it did. Everything sounded better from her. She too listened with passion, the things she hardly entertained in chats. Such was the silent intensity!

Seldom has there been anything good about good bye except for debunking the latent emotions। The auto drive back forth surfaced the sentimental issues. He was quiet, she was rapt. Silence was to witness the trying hard to hold tears and the patting re-assurance. The whole gamut, ran through months of chat ran in single vivid flame. It felt miraculous to be in each others company aloof from reality. He saw her loosing reins, loosing herself in belief. He would wait.He promised he would wait for her train.

P.S. When people around you start spinning stories, the cult is rather far too challenging not to catch up.

Eerie Haunts!!

Its time, in fact a lot of time, too much of waters have passed under the bridge! I finally decide to rest my resolution aside for meanwhile and come up with something for the blog। Some grey cells turned BLACK (dead), few blood cells enflamed (AGNEE) and rest of the cells, memory ones seems to have ceased multiplying.

Confusing? For those who credited me with normal average memory power this post might make some sense. For others, check out the writings of OSHO :P. The other day, D day (Re-Kriti Finals), to my utter surprise I was clueless to what might my blog address be! Not even my assumed pen name! I was left to the state of stammered silent cursing.

This by no means is the beginning of the indication. During one off the walks to SARDAR, I found myself coming in different angles in tryst to come up with the word “auction”.It was not the one off words. “Exploit” as a word had to be explained as “Shoshan”. The interesting arguments in leading to my re-realisation of the word, notwithstanding, I see me loosing my reins.

So flooded was I with the chunk of memories garbaged over 21 years, that it reiterated upon myself in forms. It culminated in a series of reflections! The life without memory?Inking your body with words as memento? Letting your brain process a little longer in order to whet back pleasant days? Yuck, have I been sounding too pessimistic?

Unbelievingly enough I get across this telegraph article as if to remind me “ पिक्चर अभी बाकी है दोस्तों”। The guy in case, keeps coming back and loves the same thing over and over again. Proposing his wife all over again and again and again! Did he not freeze time at its most elusive point? The idea of diminishing returns would still be a no-no place. Without memory we would just be hapless at the scenarios around us. But that does not restrict us from attaching value to things, reacting to stimuli by automatic instinct.

Yet, we reinforce the taxed brain for memory. Important dates! Yet we fall on the implications. How much are we aware of at each moment is rather limited. We assimilate and force opinions on prior experience and present conscience. The instincts, first impression lose its way to time. No wonder the world needs few million billions of TB!