They are people, not stars, not God

 For a very long time, I have wanted to write about this topic but I'd either be stopped by my own inhibitions or by the "let things work as they are" mentality. Any Indian who has grown up watching Bollywood movies or simply kept his/her ears open knows about the Bollywood's who's who. We have grown up that way, even if we liked or hated Bollywood, we have byhearted their names and would obviously greet them(least of all) if not beg them for autographs or selfies if given a chance. 

From time to time, we keep getting to know different news feeds related to them - be it who's dating whom, who is pregnant, who's going to Hollywood, who married whom, and believe me now the news is so multifaceted that it's impossible to categorize it let alone think about its credibility. But as long as it is gossip, to just listen to watching TV, or via social media, we enjoy it. Talking about Bollywood stars doesn't harm them no matter how ridiculous or malicious the topic is. It is because being famous is their profession, they get paid for it - it directly impacts the extent to which they can influence people and the influence may be good or bad, they don't care about it. It does harm us though, but we don't realize the harm that very instant. We realize it years later when something happens that opens our eyes and we look back and think how die-hard fans we were of the celebrities growing up and how that misled us in life.

3 months ago an incident like that happened. On 14 June, the news broke out, Sushant Singh Rajput was no more. A brilliant and intelligent man, who achieved what he set his eyes on since the beginning, academics and showbiz alike, who starred in a movie based on mental health and suicide, was claimed to have committed suicide at his apartment in Mumbai. Like most Indians, I was also stunned to hear the news and couldn't sleep properly thinking something like that happened to such a popular Bollywood star. Then later, some of my friends told me that they heard on the news that he was suffering from depression for 6 months. It was equally hard to believe as was the news of his passing away. Soon I could see all Bollywood related people putting all sorts of RIP messages. The format though remained the same - RIP <name>, will miss the <any activity they claim to have done with him>, <string of emojis><a selfie with the person>. For a few celebs who didn't post anything, fans started hurling abuses at them of being too self-involved to write about the loss of someone from their fraternity. A few celebs also started posting about mental health and running campaigns, hashtags, etc. to follow. A few weeks later when the news had died down, somehow the case was opened. A few things didn't add up and made it hard to believe that it was a suicide. Some more time passed and out came the ugly truth of Bollywood.

Soon as anyone would comment on anything on Aaditya Thackeray or Salman Khan or Sooraj Pancholi being involved in a party that had happened a few days before the fateful day, there would surface some creative strategy to silence those remarks. And it's shocking to see how many different tools are there for PR agencies to use for any purpose they want - be it uplifting someone's reputation or tarnishing it beyond repair. And its the outcome of these strategies that we as an audience think that someone is dumb or someone is genuine at heart or kind or generous etc. There are many actors about whom you'd hear all good things but go to Quora and check questions like "Who is the rudest Bollywood celebrity ever?" and you'll see a very different perspective. There are also some actors who were doing very good at a point in their career but they had a tiff with some powerful Bollywood name and they lost all their movie offers and soon faded away. When we think about those actors, we somehow just conclude that either their acting deteriorated over time or they got busy with their families because that's what we're made to believe and since thinking like that about someone who is just famous and not a personal connection is harmless we stamp this explanation and move on.

The reason Sushant Singh Rajput's death feels so personal though is that it just brought to light how huge the impact of the influencers is on us since we were kids and how much we were misled ever since the beginning that now no CBI and no NCB and no news channel can break the truth to us. We have just realized that no one is to be trusted, not even ourselves. What will happen in this case would probably just be a mere competition of power and truth but it does incite anger among people with new shocking facts about the celebrities we worship emerging every day and brings us to question ourselves. We write hate comments on the celebrities' tweets or hurl abuses at their selfies but just like it didn't affect them back when we'd gossip about them to pass time, it wouldn't affect them now regardless of their involvement in this case. The only way to actually make something palpable happen here is if you unfollow and stop worshipping these celebs.  They are people, not stars, not God. If you don't watch their movies or view their posts on social media, and completely boycott them, they'll realize the harm they've done, and face the befitting punishment for it. But that said, this is definitely a movement and it'll take time for justice to prevail and for all of us to learn our lessons and improve.

The Reveller

I’d wake up every morning because I had to,

I’d sip tea with a word or two,

do I think of the dream or dream the thought?

It was the only way the time could move.

Every day I’d see the world lit by

an entity whose horizon I just couldn’t chase,

for some precious memories were now buried

with their shackles deep in my heart.

Could there be a melody that could clothe

what I just couldn’t find words for?

Could it take me back to my happy place

with the company of the one in a million?

Could it make my tears of happiness and pain

shed back to the brook they came from?

Could it trace the steps before they met

and paint them a better fate?

It must have started when the lines between

memories and yearning blurred

by the life that had had dismay,

and the sheer devotion of time to its pace.

When I had borne enough to bear

and thought enough to think,

the dream that was barely there,

started to manifest.

The might of sculpting what I’d call my own,

the treasure of subtleties I could pick

how bliss and relief spiked thenceforth

and brought us back, for once albeit.

By the veiled collusion of truth and false,

it was just as I had longed for

Do I think of the dream or dream the thought?

It is the only way the time can move.

The Two Faced Man

Still remember the day when the whole world seemed to be falling apart, it was the worst day of my life. I was in another city, away from family, away from friends, away from anything my mind could find solace in, and before I could contemplate my ways out of the situation, a sudden force thrust me back into the deep pit I had fallen into. It seemed like the day would never end and all agonies of the world were thrown up at me all at once. There are situations in life, when you just know that you wouldn’t be able to handle things on your own, when you need someone, if not to give you a solution, then just to be with you so you realise it’s the same world that made you happy, that is the only source of your strength, that is familiar to you or had been few days ago, and that small ways solve big problems and if nothing works out it’s time that heals the gravest of wounds.

Yes, I felt like killing myself, but my heart resisted, for there was one waiting – for there was a hope of solace that could resurrect me back to how strong I was. And my heart never gave up on him. Some bonds strengthen due to abundance of time and some bonds strengthen due to scarcity of it. The latter ones are the special ones because they leave an impact that not many understand, perhaps just the people who are faced with it. You know it will end at some point of time, and that is where it continues, in its own unique direction, to make you realise that wherever life takes you, this memory – that is engraved in time, no amount of lie, ignorance, pain or agony can take it away from you because you have lived the moment this memory was made – this memory will ensure that you don't fade away, it will ensure that you live to the fullest because you have experienced what time does.

You are never good or bad if you are good or bad in someone else’s eyes. It’s queer how a person who was so important to you, becomes a stranger all of a sudden – but sudden is relative – because its time that builds emotions and behaviour with bounderies so obscure that sudden is no where to be seen. So a person is two kinds – one who was/ is with you, in his air that actually belongs to both of you, familiarity that makes life easy and happy and the world looks alright – and second is the stranger that he was before you met him, the only strangeness being becoming strangers after getting acquainted because of the added memories that never leave you. You’ll abhor an estranged bond the same way you abhor a stranger because it takes an unknown, unforseeable route but stronger memories will make you respect this stranger for the sake of time and the good world. That’s the two faced man.

Missing Time

I woke up to a very strange morning. The cool winter breeze was blowing and birds were chirping which made room for a typical morning but my bed surprisingly was upside down and was stuck to the ceiling! I remember that distinctly because I did try to manually swing the fan a little bit, just for fun. Then I could hear my alarm ringing which, contrary to everyday, didn’t sound annoying at all today. I may have tried a dance step or two too while I was up at the ceiling. Then by the support of the walls, I manoeuvred my way down and was standing on the floor alright which gave me a strange happiness. I am sure I had to go somewhere because I completed my morning chores quite deftly and put on my favourite pair of jeans and got ready. I also noticed that I had this black watch on that I loved, which was gifted to me few years ago by my sister, but I had lost it somewhere. So it was quite strange to suddenly find it wrapped placidly around my wrist. I hugged my mother and kissed her on her cheek like I do before going anywhere but peeking in the drawing room was the slight view of my bedroom where my bed still stood upside down. But I gave an assuring smile to my mother and bid her goodbye.

I started walking down the road and to my surprise most of the people who were walking by were people I had already seen or met in college or school or somewhere else in the past and I exchanged greetings with all of them. I could hear some of my favourite songs playing in the background and I knew this day was going to be great. Just as our life slowly graduates from one phase to another, I felt like crossing the street to reach a place which seemed like a spot reaching which the background music would fade away. It looked like a peaceful place and I was instantly intrigued. When I tried focusing on it, it appeared like a spherical source emitting a mystical white light which looked chaste yet extremely powerful. Soon as I put my step forth, a big car arrived. It was resplendently black in colour and I don’t remember what model it was but it was the most extravagantly beautiful car I had ever seen in my life. I even tried to look through its tainted glass but I couldn’t figure out who or what, sitting there killed me!

There was this sudden realisation and I am sure I felt a thump in my chest, which happens when you hear a sudden, tragic news. Yes I was dead. But then how can I feel myself thinking, talking and living right now – is what I couldn’t figure out amidst the eerie fog that had appeared and obliterated the white light completely. I realised somehow that I had to think fast to make it happen; and so it happened.

The canvas got painted with my thoughts that seemed to pour down as innocently as a tear. I saw my family having lunch together. They were happy seeing which brought a big smile to my face. Next stop, friends. Soon a carnival began with songs that I couldn’t understand, but sounded groovy yet divine in my head, and numerous people I had never met, dancing and having a gala time. It was as if the stars had descended on the ground. Soon a person grabbed my hand and drew me towards a crowd and we started dancing. Grooving together there, were all of my best and close friends and I felt like I would explode with exuberance. I couldn’t stop smiling and at that moment, I knew I didn’t have anything to tell them because I felt they already knew – it was the time to feel what wasn't felt – dance, laugh, sing, revel in that time that was so unpredictable. At that point I didn’t feel I had a single regret, complaint or shortcoming to be sad about at all. I could see all the people I had known or met at some point in my life dancing and being happy together and there was nothing more I could have asked for.

 Then another hand pulled me to a pretty face and I knew this would be a lover’s dance. We danced together, close, and waltzed to each and every corner of that terrace we had ended up at, where I otherwise used to visit at evenings or under moonlight to think about the stuff going on in my life. But there was no worry now – not even to see the lover’s face; I felt like I had already seen the world, like I had already touched the zenith of happiness, I felt it was time.

And then my phone’s alarm rang and I found myself curled up in my bed which looked perfectly normal on the ground now. I rose from the bed and I had this slight pain in my hand and when I looked at it I saw the marks that a watch leaves when you tie it tightly on your wrist. I had a sudden urge and I rushed to the terrace of my place and after a while of scanning every corner I found something on the spot which I think was roughly above the ceiling of my room where my bed had gotten stuck. It was my lost black watch.

Who was he?

"175 bucks for a single ride and just 50 for pool!"

"So which one's she going to take? Tune in 10 minutes later to your very own show to find out!"

Sakshi's friend joked around with her. It was a crazy winter evening and the day couldn't have been worse - with accidentally spilling coffee on her denims to getting yelled at by her boss in front of her teammates - she had already deemed it the most pathetic day she faced that winter. But so is life, every second you calculate, judge and decide only to fiddle around with that decision later.

"So I don't have 175 bucks in cash, it's already 9pm and I'm sitting with my friends from night shift, my parents wouldn't stop calling to give me a minute's time to book a cab through my almost discharged phone and I can't even have a cup of coffee to calm myself!" Sakshi said in utter frustration.

"Look at you dear, you're going completely crazy. Don't worry, just tell me if you want to go single or opt for pool and I'll book a cab right away through my phone. By the time the cab arrives, you can put your phone to charge here, and talk to your parents so they would stop worrying." Sakshi's head was spinning; she took a deep breath and sat down to decide what to do. As her home was right by the street close to her workplace, she figured sharing a cab wouldn't be a bad option as she would get to deboard first. So she made her decision and 5 minutes later the cab arrived and she bid goodbye to her friend.

The driver wished her namaste which is always pleasant to hear even when you aren't having a good day and Sakshi felt like she was already coming back to her senses. The driver started the trip. There was a lot of hustle and bustle around as it was a rush hour. Was there anyone amidst this traffic who had a worse day than her? Sakshi started thinking. Would her boss even for a second think if his decision to rebuke her was wrong and that he had ruined someone's day completely just so he could get a work done? Perhaps not. You may not remember making someone sad but you can never forget making someone happy.

Few minutes later, the cab stopped at a spot and a second rider entered the cab. He was dressed in an off-white shirt that had a big stain on it, with few buttons open revealing his thin front, and a shabby black trouser with a pocket torn to the extent of revealing an equally torn wallet and Sakshi couldn't breathe in the awful pungent smell he had brought in with him. She soon realized that he was drunk and it sent chills down her spine as he sat next to her. "Please open the windows sirji", he said. "Before your odor chokes me to death" There was some serious talking going on in Sakshi's head.

"He is drunk for crying out loud, so much that maybe even the people sitting in this jam in their cars can sense it. He is dressed like a cheapster - and isn't he cold, endorsing that see-through shirt in this freezing weather, and where do such people get money or internet connection to book a cab - where is he even headed to anyway - maybe a dark, notorious street somewhere where his friends or local goons have gathered to talk about the number of girls they eve-teased today over drinks and bidis."

 Sakshi zipped her jacket up to her neck and held her purse closer. Soon a myriad of thoughts started vacillating in her head. "What if he tries to touch me, I haven't even bought a pepper spray yet. What if he starts abusing in the middle of the road and creates a scene, how will I reach home to my already worried parents? Should I not have opted for pool? Should I inform my friend in office?" Soon as she looked down at her phone, it made a sound and got discharged. "Do you need a power bank madam?" He spoke in a squeaky yet feebly sensible sounding voice taking out a power bank from another one of his pockets. Sakshi gave a nervous smile and took it from him accidentally brushing against his finger. She later wiped her hand on the car seat cover and left the "and why would you do that" question in her head unanswered.

The next few minutes she spent closing her eyes and praying to reach safely and opening them only to see this man seated next to her enjoying the outside view occasionally taking his head out of the window and enjoying the wind blowing right in his dark brown unkempt hair. It made him smile. He didn't have a pretty smile though, just the weird gross kind that arises from yellow-black teeth piercing through dark creepy faces when they assume that you were staring at them in utter admiration. Sakshi was amazed. It made her smile and she had a "thank you for existing" look on her face for that time when he was looking away. Soon, as she had anticipated, her destination was reached first. She handed him the power bank and thanked him for it and got down from the car. Soon as she started to walk, she heard a voice, "Have a nice day madam". She turned back and with a happy smile said, "Thank you" only to realize that it wasn't her fellow rider but the driver who had wished her that. The fellow rider was still swooning in his new found admiration of the winter wind. And Sakshi felt like there couldn't have been a better way to lift her mood that day that she had deemed the most pathetic day of that winter. But then so is life, every second you calculate, judge and decide only to fiddle around with that decision later.

[This story obviously is fictional but I hope a man like this exists amidst the people who stare at us every day. And when a day like that would happen I hope we can feel perfectly normal around them rather than giving them the “thanks for existing” look.]

  

Kis baat ka dar?

Jaane kis pal se kis pal ka dar
Jiska ant nahi shuruwat nahi
Jiya hu itna dar dar k
Kis baat ka dar tha yaad nahi

Beet gaya jo bura kal main usko
Dar me zinda rakhta hu
Darwaze se meelon duur ki dastak
Ghar me zinda rakhta hu

Anjaan sheher me khoyi khushi ka
Gham nahi fariyaad nahi
Jiya hu itna dar dar k
Kis baat ka dar tha yaad nahi

Sehmi umeede soti hain
Jahan nikalti thi duwaein dil se
Chhoot gyi kismat ki dori
Armaano ki satvi manzil se

Beeti khushi pe fir thirakna
Pal do pal ki baat nahi
Jiya hu itna dar dar k
Kis baat ka dar tha yaad nahi

The report of her life

“What’s news today if it’s not sensational? The crimes are the same- murder, rape, robbery etc. but they can only keep you glued to the newspaper if they turn out into a huge spiced-up whodunit that doesn’t revolve around a couple of strangers but someone from the inside who kept a record of everything to plot it and make it look like an ambush. As long as the culprit isn’t unveiled by law, media mustn’t abstain from garnering a certain heat to the case even if it involves disclosing the names of the witnesses or related people and making little stories around them. A cold-blooded murder of a girl, allegedly culminated in perfect stealth by her own parents, sounds more like a news people would like to read.” On her way home, Namita kept rewinding her boss’s words in her head. It was hard enough to live up to her expectations let alone competing with other writers for it. She had taken a break from a terribly hectic day at work as usual. Everyday rebukes had pushed her to the verge of losing her job. She reached home to her 10-year old son Krish. Only a persevered wish of seeing him in the middle of the day could keep her going in her tough times. Normally he’d scream at the top of his voice and run to the gate to greet her, but that day he had a dismal look on his face. Namita hadn’t seen this coming.

 He took her by her hand and led her in. Each step made her more nervous as to what (else) was wrong that day. She scanned left to right, from one corner to the other suspiciously; everything looked the same except for the kitchen. She entered in. There was a shiny golden cloth kept on the slab and she cowered away a bit when she saw what was placed on it. It was an 11-inch large blood stained knife. It looked dreadful enough to let its own wrath wield it. She felt her heart beat starting to race. She turned to Krish, held him by his shoulders and hastily checked him head to toe. He was fine. Then in a squeaky voice she asked him, “Where did you find it?” Apparently amidst a quiet locality in Delhi that Namita lived in, this drunken goon who had stabbed a kin over a money issue with a knife, had thrown the knife wrapped in a cloth under a tree, an hour before Krish returned from school and, intrigued by the flashy cloth, picked it and brought it home. “But why did you bring it home? It’s a bad omen!” Namita asked vehemently but she knew there was no answer coming.

 “You are not going to tell anyone about this knife and mom will throw it away on her way back. Promise me.” Despite Krish’s assurance she had to drink a glass of water or two to gulp down to her gut what had actually happened. After feeding him lunch, picking up a bunch of items (including the knife) and dropping him at her sister’s, she headed off on her scooty to home, but realising it had been too much for the day and she needed to think things through at a rather lively place, she drove ahead towards CP which was 15 minutes from her place.

She reached CP and parked her scooty. She began strolling about for a while looking at the busy city life breathing around her. Memories from her marriage flew in before her with the pleasant breeze. Life had been so beautiful and full of happy surprises then. Even amidst the busy work life, the little family time she could get would be so worth the wait. And how blessed she felt that little Krish was born when life was so cheerful and wished that with the sweetness of days that passed by, he’d grow up into a wonderful person. If only she had seen a bitter divorce coming, she would have lived those days with more enthusiasm or perhaps repaired the faults before they could ruin her marriage. Dramatic was the way how happy surprises turned sour. But she had made her peace with it and didn’t let it make her life, as her boss called stuff like that, filmy. It had been just another nail in the coffin of “lived happily ever after”. Post divorce, she moved to Delhi with her son when he was just 5-years old and had ever since struggled to keep up with the vicissitudes of city life.  “You can only enjoy it till it sucks you in.” She said to herself. But she had to disperse away the thoughts. There wasn’t much time. She had a deadline to meet and a knife to dispose.

She entered a Starbucks cafe nearby and ordered a coffee. It was work time, time for the notepad and the strongest weapon at her disposal, a pen her father had gifted her on her first day at her new job, to come out of her bag. And out came the notorious knife, if only there were a weapon to stab this one with, but to its luck and might, just a cover. She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. She had to clothe an incident she had to report, in the most pretentious, scandalous and deceptive words possible. She opened her scarf to the point where she could wryly gaze at the knife. It felt like peeping into the mind of a criminal. What could he be most scared of while in absconding? What twist could make this the most coveted report? For a while she meticulously dug the brains of the criminal and her boss to find the plausible solutions. After a few minutes of extensive contemplation and drawing inspiration from the knife, she started writing the crime she had to ‘sensationalize’ for the next day’s print, highlighting overtly intricate details of the weapon (also a knife) that went missing and could lead to the culprit. This was her last shot and it had to be the best.

After writing and reviewing it a couple of times, she packed up everything, scooted off to her office and handed it over to her boss. She took out the portentous knife, still covered with her scarf, and imitating her boss, spoke to it, “you better make it sensational!” If only the knife could smirk back or hide a little better behind its cover when a few suspicious eyes pried around. But her bossed looked quite impressed and even though she (like most working people) hated her boss, for that moment her happiness meant the world to Namita. She came back home picking up Krish in the way.

“So how was your day?” Krish popped up the quotidian question that usually Namita would ask. “Pretty hectic. Did you have fun at your aunt’s?”  She didn’t want to scare Krish by telling him that her career, his future and their shot at leading the same happy life they used to years ago were hanging on the verdict that will be narrated by the next day’s print. They had dinner while watching news on TV. If she was lucky maybe her report could make it to the news channels, she thought to herself. After the dinner they went into their respective rooms. She washed her face. All she needed was a good sleep to prepare her for the next day. She called out to Krish, “Good night sweetie.” “Mom!” he called out. “What now?” She rushed to his room. “Why didn’t you throw the knife away? You said it was bad omen.” Little Krish held the bag containing knife in his hand. She took it away from him and assured, “I’ll throw it away tomorrow.”

The next day her wish came true, the story did make headlines and was even printed on the front page in huge letters. The knife that was barely meant to make it to a hideously small section of the paper till the previous day, stabbed its way to a news report that little Krish would have never expected to hear or read. And yes, it was all over news channels too. The news read: In a first of its kind scenario and a fresh twist to the ongoing schoolboy murder case, a newspaper editor, Namita Sharma has been taken into custody for allegedly possessing and hiding the murder weapon she was to report about.On and on it sparked off a series of ‘filmy’ allegations that could lead to solving the murder mystery that had been bemusing the investigators for over weeks and triggered a plethora of possible motives and connections of this controversial editor, who couldn’t explain the knife, to the biggest murder mystery. Even Krish was questioned about the knife but he kept the promise he made to his mother. Somewhere at the bottom of that report were hints of a plausible DNA test of the blood found on the knife to be conducted by forensic experts that would eventually ascertain the truth. But for all Namita knew, saving her job came at the cost of losing her job and much more.                 

  

The distance between a deal and end of a deal

Hola readers! I am back with another secret of secrets!!

A deal begins with two or more people consenting to work towards a common goal. And the goal can be anything, from professional to mundane. Any deal or negotiation turns into a goal with a strong, and more importantly common, will and dedication. But a deal involves PEOPLE. And people are different.

No two people can think exactly alike. Any teamwork is a result of a concoction of different ideologies with different efforts, prior estimation of each being next to impossible, but a clever assessment and coordination of both can always carve new routes towards the fruition of the goal. Also, the differences that are conducive to different goals do manage to carve another route, and this one leads to THE END OF THE DEAL.

Consequences of such a deal are never pleasing. Not only does it waste the time and efforts but also strains the ties between people involved in it. The end is never a fault of just one party. If a party is absolutely inefficient, the deal can never begin in the first place. At the end, for all you know, you are tracing back to the point where the different ideologies became different goals and persistently evaluating the lost deal.

If you are an efficient negotiator or merely into socializing, you will tend to be very polite, respectful and mature at the start of the deal and that is what needs to be consistent throughout the deal even if it doesn't lead to success. The distance between a deal and end of a deal is deepened when you refuse to let go at a time when holding on is not the option. Either the loss or the strained relationship keeps coming back to you and you open the gates for a surge of failures to fall upon you. It should be kept in mind that failures or such ends of deals must not be confused with the end of a very important deal called life and well-being. An important solution is to think about the journey rather than the end. Try to break the journey into bits and pieces and grasp any positive lesson you derive from each step. Even if a bond is damaged beyond repair, learn to appreciate its beauty till it lasted and make peace with whatever is left. And as is very commonly said but seldom understood, move on. Revere,accept, learn and live,not in the past but in the present. 

Enjoy :)

Stepping in the abyss of the dark..

I love daylight. It feels like a conquered world. The chirping of birds, people going off to work, the air blowing thick with the sound of the busy city life; everything generates a positive vibe for unrestrained ideas and innovations. An optimistic approach seems all that is needed to drive away any sort of fear or sometimes it’s pretty much just the admiration of the daylight and an eternal wish that it keeps shining upon us. But then the night comes, an inevitable phenomenon. It still feels safe so far as I am surrounded with people or illuminations but once it is dark and the city life snuggles into cosy beds and pillows, my fear begins.

 A silence takes over as if waiting for an arrival. It is sometimes interrupted by some fading noises, either the barking of a dog or some gibberish sounds from neighborhood that elate me to some level knowing that people are around but soon it dies out. I don’t remember exactly when such kind of fear started striking me but my concern is that it encumbers me till its morning again. It isn't insomnia because I try to soak every ounce of sleep that surfaces out in my eyes but somehow I am woken up. It led me to sleeping in my parents' room to avoid the same but to my dismay it hasn't been of much help. The few steps in dark from my room to theirs are a sly and hasty affair as if the moment I turn back, I’d be grasped by some uncanny claws.

 The darkness isn't the same when I close my eyes but it isn't any better. My worries from the day come alive in inexplicable forms when I close my eyes and it scares me enough to close them again. Sometimes the barking of dogs turns into a chorused painful cry expressive of some long mourned grief that has occurred or is yet to and I hold on to my mother tightly and wish that it stops right away. Sometimes the brush of my hair against my ear gives me slight chills and I spring back from a chanced relaxation. I gaze at the window seeking moonlight but then I realize I haven’t the foggiest of what’s going on at my other side. It’s frustrating sometimes to turn back and forth or to think of turning the lights on to eventually find that every bit is the same but then that’s why days aren't scary because they need you to see and not seek. But night, as I have established now, is an inevitable phenomenon and fear is always of the unknown. It will continue to remain indomitable and perhaps a good sleep, like the angelic daylight, is the only escape. After all to be wiped out by light, darkness has to prevail.

     

GOLDEN DAYS

For memories are the gems,the only way to actually connect-these are my memories that I'd cherish forever............

We stepped up in our college unaware of the beautiful time that awaited us,the memories that are too many to contain, the people that are too lovely to forget and here it is the evening of this beautiful time that'll soon be over.........

As I begin to contemplate these four years , with the memories floating in the air here's what I want to say to every special person who came in my life and became a part of it:

Chahat-The first person from class who sent me fb request :p at that time I had no idea that you were going to be my best buddy...from your advices to our poking and teasing each other, from your 'braceful' smile to your free spirited punjabi style, I m gonna miss you so much...its hard to think of being in a place without you since we'd always hang out together,stuffing in junk food :p or bunking or gossiping....its you who made the college life so easy and so special for me,you stood by me at hard times and told me wherever I went wrong,you are truly the gem of a person ,,,ilysm :* and this will go on forever....:):)p.s.we do look awesome together..

Prabhat-When I think of you I remember you saying that no matter what happens you will always stand by me whenever I face any hurdles and every word turned out to be so true..you are really one of your kind and I respect you from the bottom of my heart.there were times when you'd complain to me,when I'd try to put up an argument and end up realising a totally different thing about myself,.you made me discover myself and that is the biggest thing anyone can do for a friend..i am so gonna miss you....plz do stay in touch...and all the best for your future..:*

Pallavi-Just one mutually shared regret:why didn't we meet in first year...:p i can't imagine a person more perfect than you girl and yet you are so down to earth...the wisest friend that i could ever make..every day spent with you is memorable,the Jim Corbett trip,the stay at your house,helping you with teacher's day or farewell preparations,hanging out and doing weird stuff together :D you made the 4th year so so memorable for me despite the odds that i was apparently facing and i will forever be indebted to you...will miss u...luv u so much ladki..:*<3

Divya-Your eyes,your hair,your smile,your style,i m so attracted to you...i get so much positive vibes from you that no tension can stay when you are with me..all the times spent at Nirmal Chaya teaching small girls are so much memorable and your funny pronunciations and i keep falling over and over in love with you every time i see you.....i am blessed to have you in my life and all the best for your future endeavors :*

Shivam- I have always admired you and will continue to do so forever.You are a very sweet guy and all moments of the beginning years of college when we became friends are memorable.I think you do know that you hold a very special place in my heart and I'd want this awesome bond to go on forever..i'll miss you :)

Nehal-The one thing I love about you is that you speak your heart out and the fact that you are kind and considerate towards everybody.Girl you are very special and always keep in mind that nobody has the right to hurt you.You spread so much positive energy and that's why its forbidden for you to be sad :p keep in mind...ily and i'll miss all the times spent with you :*

Gargi-Hostel life more than college life is incomplete without you.You are so cute and childlike and i adore you so much. Exam times,travelling to the centre together,or to grocery to get daily requirements,or having omelette together,gossiping,listening to eahc other's problems,stalking teacher's fb profiles,the list is actually endless...i love u yr and take care for the world is out there....will miss you so much :*

Manav-The casual shorts guy..thats how I m going to remember you :p so cute and so carefree...all your advices are worth keeping in mind and thank you for all great times you gave to me and all your friends...looking forward to strengthening this awesome bond with you..

Osheen-I have known you from first year and you are the sweetest and most adorable girl I have met.I get so much inspiration from you.Girl you are radiant and your smile is contagious.All the best for future and do stay in touch...ily :*:*:*  

Saurabh and Navya-Now you know Atirek that this is a rare sight (me appreciating you :p)!You're a great guy and thank you for bringing smile to my face.I could get to know you and your friends only after mock placements in 4th year and that day onwards there hasn't been a day we haven't texted.Thank you for making all these days special for me and I hope you get your another special someone at infy :p:):* Navya you are a very lovely girl and i have lot of expectations from you.even though we didn't spend much time together but whatever little time we spent was special.i'll miss u

Sahiba and Aaron-Sahiba you're an awesome person and I can open up to you about anything and everything.The love of my life(people can be jealous if they want to :p) and i am glad to have met you.Always stay this positive and this cute.All the best :) Aaron,Your highness! I can't tell if I'll miss you more or your bullet..you're a very genuine and a very sweet guy.I'll miss our phone calls,fried chicken momos,bike rides,teasing atirek,and all your valuable advices and quote pictures ...<3 all the best for your future


Mitesh and Himanshu-Yes I added your pic to the collage for the very reason that these four years also brought you both to my life.I feel like family with you guys and all the beautiful moments spent together will be dearly cherished. Mittu, you cooking,your photography,our long chats,...you were there in my thick and thins with me as a friend,as family,and i can't imagine a day without talking with you....Himanshu you are a very sweet guy and i'll forever cherish our special times together...i love you both so much ...will miss you :*<3

Mayank-The mba coaching brought us together and for good.It always felt great to catch up with you and your flirting :p and your jokes would always relieve me off my tensons...i m going to miss you..

Ruchi di-My elder sister and my best friend..i already miss you...c4e,momos,sarojini nagar,late night maggi,chatting on stairs,watching movies,from anything to everything there isn't a day when i don't miss you....just stay happy dii and everything will be alright...luv u :*

Saumya,Priya di-I miss you both and the weird stuff we used to do at hostel..u r both so adorable and the times spent together are special and cherished..luv u both :*

 

Divya-We became roommates in the second year and all the disastrous experience of first year got washed away.You are the best roomie i could imagine..remember how we'd talk about this time when we were in second year.all stressed up with exams...the green tea,the movies,me getting freaked out with pigeons and u driving them away,or having chaach together,talking about our college friends at the end of the day..i'll miss you very much :*

Himani-Miss Municipality!:D You'd come to our room and find us sleeping or chatting on phones and scold us to study,or to clean our rooms...going to c4e,dilli haat,the weirdo clicking our pic there,going DC to buy shoes :p i luv u yr and its difficult to imagine what life will become after hostel life gets over...all the best for your future..:*stay in touch

For all I couldn't mention about in this list: I'll miss you all and I want to thank you for making these 4 years so special...
           
                   "I have a heart brimming with emotions but not a body of words to clothe them"


                                         "Jo keh paate ye baatein to hum bhi bayaan kar dete
                                      Bas yaadein yaadein yaadein,yaadon se jahaan bhar dete
                                           Vo baatein vo yaadein lafzon me jo simat ti nahii
                                          Ye dil jo kehna chahta hai, uski zubaan kuch aur hai....."



                                                                                                                                               -VINSIN

A sleep that shouldn't have been waited for

Warm, cosy, rosey bed, cute, comfy, cotton sleepsuit, hugging your pillow,curled up like a small baby, that may be the story of a satiating sleep, this isn't. This is about being knocked up by "the unpleasant emotional state consisting of psychological and psychophysiological responses to a real external threat or danger" or in other words, FEAR.

It was the warm night of an unreasonably continuing winter. An echo of the chirp of a distant bird pierced through the silence of the night. I had slept through the day and my head felt heavy. I opened the door to look for anybody I could find awake in the hostel but their voices-loud, cheery, playful, expressive of the regular chirpy mood turned away my steps back to my room. Lights were off and my roommate fast asleep. I got into my bed, closed my eyes and tried to sleep. After 15 minutes, world felt the same: no sign of sleep. I checked my phone for messages. There was none. I texted my bff sensing that I really needed to talk to someone. Wifi connection was lost. This night wasn't going to be smooth. I plugged in my headphones and listened to some good music for a while but contrary to the expected, it diminished even the slightest possibility of sleep. Downhearted, I locked my phone and slid it under my pillow.



After a while I switched to my laptop with the intention of watching some random sitcom. After about half an hour, my eyes may have shut down but the voices from the sitcom woke me up. I hibernated it, and with a momentary joy that sleep had finally knocked up, I closed my eyes.
After a minute or so a voice interrupted whatever sleep I had grabbed hold of. I had shut the flap and placed the laptop next to my pillow. Everything was the same only the flap was open now and the sitcom was playing on it! I sensed I was in trouble and in half sleep I closed my eyes thinking that the nightmare will wear away with the sleep. But after a while another sound woke me up. This time a song played on the phone I had slid under the pillow. I thought of taking it out and pausing it thinking that I may have forgotten to close the music player app when I dozed off. But my hand couldn't move. It was frozen! And someway my inner conscience had the feeling that this paralytic attack that I had experienced before in my dreams was happening again. Only this time I knew I wasn't dreaming. I had a notion that my body wouldn't move but I still struggled into moving it. My head was still, facing the left side towards the laptop that was now closed. I tried moving my head with the help of my hands but to no avail. I couldn't move my legs too. It was like some unnatural force that had gripped my body to the bed and the fear of what might happen next made me try to scream. Yes, try to scream because I couldn't hear my own voice. It was like my mouth was glued and no word could possibly be uttered. I tried calling my roommate or making any possible sound that the uncanny paralysis would allow me to but nothing worked. The fear was consuming me. The night that had just been about the wait for sleep had turned into a horrific demon I wanted to run away from. All my existence and space in the world was about to be erased away because of this unknown force that was drowning me inside this diabolic sleep.

I sensed the vibration of my phone. I realized that wifi was finally connected and my friend would have replied me back. I had a strong urge to jump out from the demarcation line between the real and unreal to the real world where I could now wait indefinitely for sleep rather than being consumed by this evil force. After a few seconds of the unrestrained torture, I finally felt something evaporate away from me. A sudden feeling of being dumped back into the real world because of being terrified like a puppy. I bounced back and left my bed as fast as I could. It was dark and scary. My roommate was asleep and looking at her for a while I realized that I was back and that everything was back to normal.

I walked in the corridor, distraught and aghast, thinking of whatever happened with me in the last few minutes. I looked at the sky through the window, seeking an unsaid blessing and tried moving my hands and legs frequently trying to get it engraved in my belief that I was back. My bff laughed it off saying it was sleep paralysis and very common but for me it was my brain's own way of reminding me to stay thankful for being alive and healthy and appreciating every moment of life before an endless sleep consumes me.

MIRROR SIZED LIFE

The world is but an elaborate reflection of one’s own ideas and perceptions that keeps us going. It’s a mirror we all live in, glancing at ourselves head to toe, reveling in our triumphs, lamenting over our shortcomings and stupefying at the other bewildering reflections of the capabilities we never knew existed in us. Each day is another page written by the quill of destiny, with each noun conducive to another incipient chapter budding in our lives and verbs made of wistful projections of the desires buried in the deep attics of our hearts that we inexorably seek to accomplish every day. Every moment is the inception of an idea, a desire, maybe a whim or a feeble dream about a reflection we always wanted to see in that mirror. Interestingly the mirror neither shows ‘that’ reflection nor the way to become it, but plants the infinitesimal seeds that keep on germinating with each new page that is scribbled in our lives.

 Mirror is intriguing. You know it’s you in there, right? Try to look in the mirror for 10 minutes straight in dim light and you may start doubting yourself. If you doubt yourself, you won’t stop looking and if you keep looking, you won’t stop doubting. You may break it into pieces but you’d still look back into them for once.

It’s an innate desire, an obsession with the identity if not a fear of others’ perceptions about it to keep ourselves from drowning in oblivion and a constant reminder of the package we came in.

Human race has for long been intimidated by the questions: Where do we come from? Where are we going? What lies beyond? Are we alone? And there are various plausible answers to them with no absolute proof but a belief. The doubt drowns you a fathom more but a belief no matter right or wrong raises you above. That is another belief.

So no answer or belief can be absolutely denied. There might be others out there, residents of some distant planet or a world that exists parallel to ours that is omnipresent but invisible, yearning for a slight doubt to come into existence just like a mirror which always shows the reflection but man is too absorbed in his world to keep looking into it to find something beyond his belief, to know if it’s his world out there or his reflection’s or to touch it and make a slight stir much like the concentric ridges made by throwing a pebble in  water which does it’s work irrespective of the volume of water. But if truly man were just one touch away from that world, it would have been a rage on either side of the mirror to know each other and most of all to tell each other apart. It can break; it can tarnish but the mirror stands unfazed asking you in the face, “For how long will you face your face to face the reality?”

Kidding,falling,kidding!!

Since times immemorial love has been contemplated as a very mysterious entity that was ever born and has eversince been living its ubiquitous immortal existence. Its the only lesson that we learn at school without being taught,the only air that we can die for breathing in and the only pain that isn't inflicted by any weapon.Love lifts us all.It's the only meaning of life.Love dooms us all.It's the sweetest killer.And the most annihilating disaster strikes on those who think of it as the biggest joke.KIDDING!

Turns out that whatever we preach to the world isn't as intimate with us as what we want to be preached is.We're drenched in love,we emit love and all we keep thinking is that love is yet to knock while we are already basking in it.Such is the magic of love that resuscitates the most reticent ones and silences the most belligerent ones with a swing of the wand.FALLING!

We're nurtured with love and it's very symbol pumps its elixir in our souls.It's the only innate quality we're born with and the last one to be stripped away when we breathe our last.World remains the same,a different mirror for a different identity just sans the love's essence that kept us alive.The biggest paradox takes it's shape,we end at the beginning and love continues to be the mystery that mocks us in the face and lures us into believing and living.KIDDING!!

No regrets,just love!

The first step into adolescence is all about falling in love.Yes.All the other better parts of it that cbse books stress about only step in the latter half.By then most of us already start floating in the bliss that the feeling superficially called as "infatuation" gives us.The first eye contact,the first brush with his hands,the first meeting,the first song that reminded of him,the first compliment and a series of other 'firsts' get embedded deep into our bosoms.Then after a few years when all of them get almost eroded by waves of college, new friends,  works and responsibilities,the ghosts start hovering around all over again.We text them only to find them happy and blessed in their own lives and wonder if there is a need at all to tell them that we still need them.We tell about them to our friends but at a point of time while they continue with their mockery we realize what we did and what we should have done.The "shoulds" obviously have been designed only to keep the regrets alive and sometimes these regrets bring back lot of people together.
She called me up at 3am and as they say such hours are only meant for nerds,lovers,alcoholics and engineers(no doubt!),I understood it must be something either serious or stupid.Insanity was pounding in her talks but only after a while could I draw out sense from them.When someone tells us that they miss somebody,its very easy to say "call him\her then" but we never really understand the reason unless we face it ourselves.Some places hold a special importance than others because we have been there before.And perhaps all we need is the same company to cherish the moments spent there.
She was crying.It had disturbed the serenity that otherwise surrounded her.I could barely console her that time and after two days it happened again with her."The practical problems are rather easy to deal with",I thought to myself.She was a bright student particularly in Maths and 4 years back he had stepped in her life and changed her world completely.Exams back then were all about mugging up and he made her realize that the brilliant results and grades she used to chase would only give her the momentary pride that'd mean nothing in the future.He honed her talents and showed her that chasing a dream could give her way more happiness than materialistic awards.He helped her when she stood at crossroads to decide if she wanted to follow her desires or her parents' dreams.With time he had become an indispensable part of her life.It was the school's farewell party at a mall in the city where this part of her life parted ways with her.I couldn't find out whether it was some small differences over something or some big matter they didn't want to disclose to anybody but it left her devastated.She healed with time pursuing her interest in Maths but upon a recent visit to the same mall the glass around her broke and rendered her on the same crossroads.The best solution anyway to such problems is making a contact rather than running away from the ghosts of past which is what suggested her and coincidentally they decided to meet at the same mall where they had parted ways.

The next day she called me up to tell me all about it."So are you guys together?",I asked."No.Because only after meeting him I realized that I should have understood his concern about me.He wanted to be with me ,not as a distraction but a motivation and perhaps I couldn't understand it that time.",she said."Perhaps you shouldn't have let him go",I said."Aren't the shoulds designed to keep the regrets alive and bring back people together?"she said in her classic serenity.


"IF YOU MISS THEM,TELL THEM TODAY"

When mom said O.K. :)

The end term examinations had taken a toll on me and by the end I was drained out completely.The busy schedule ahead was inevitable.There was no time to go on a vacation anywhere and relax.I came home after the last exam feeling like some great warrior who won the battle of who knows what.At times like these no matter how much you want to talk to your mother or cuddle her,you have to wish that she stays on her toes to cook up some delicious meal for you.Few days passed and my tongue got bored with the regular food.Monotonous pulses and weird vegetables would grin at me shamelessly from the plate and the sight of pizza or some awesome food joints would allure me.Soon I started despising the food in front of mom and the obvious replies started:"Why don't you learn to cook?You're a grown up and you should help me with the household chores rather than despising the food."The more she'd see me watching television or scrolling the phone messages vaguely,the more frequent would be the out-pour of taunts.And the more you get the scorns for something you intend to do sometime in the future,the more the zeal to do it dwindles.And it had diminished within me by the end of holidays and I became a stern believer that the mistake was mom's.Then the one day arrived that she had labelled as 'raksha bandhan' on the calender.Mom said that she was to go to her brother's for a week and I and dad had to look after the home and ourselves.After a brief pause all I could say was 'O.K.'. Some legendary people invented some legendary words like O.K. to sum up the agonies that people like me in the future were to deal with.So mom went away and the same day dad's guests arrived and I was blown off completely.I desperately wanted them to leave soon.I made tea and stepped in like some bride-to-be with a tray and dad started introducing me to them.I stood poised smiling like an idiot and waiting for them to gesture that they are going to leave.But they kept on chattering and my dad couldn't help asking them to stay for dinner.Formalities,they only arrive when they're least required.I felt like the hell breaking loose on me.I was deft with the tea and snacks but I didn't know how to cook!Suddenly the phone rang on the kitchen slab.It was mom.Before I could utter anything she said,"The food is stored in the refrigerator and you just have to make chapatis.It is your responsibility today.Do it well."I beamed with happiness much like the kitchen's tube-light and did as she said to save the day.In the days that followed I realized how every bit of the house needed to be taken care of.I couldn't find much time to sit idle or sink into negative thoughts(which I had otherwise become accustomed to ever since the holidays began) and it somewhere resurrected the zeal to cook in me.I'd browse for simple recipes only to end up with a dozen of complex ones and it was then that I realized that in a bid to solve the complexities of life,the world had rather stopped paying heed to the simpler issues.We have so many friends and strangers to care about these days that we simply forget our duties and responsibilities and most importantly love towards our parents. The work along with studies gave me enough stress to get sleep soon as I'd lie down rather than wasting time waiting for the sleep to take me in its arms.Sometimes it frustrated me and dad when we'd look at the number of things in need of our attention but it only made me love my mother even more realizing that she single-handedly used to handle everything without complains.Soon the day came when mom was to return.I cooked the lunch myself with as much precision as I could use to make it perfect for mom.She came and settled for a while.Then she went to the kitchen to cook something thinking that maybe I and dad were hungry but found out that the supper was ready.She tasted it and then she hugged me.She had tears in her eyes and so did I.After all no family moment is complete without someone getting emotional.I apologized to her for my ignorance and disdain towards the household works.She smiled and after a brief pause she said,"O.K."



"LOVE YOU MOM :)"