PEACE IN CHAOS

I was meeting him after a long time. Metro was the only option to commute. I chose to enter in one of the general compartments with him, just to be polite to him. Today was different. I had dressed up for him. I was clad in a colorful dupatta over white kurta and was wearing my favorite silver jhumkas and white bindi. I did not know how it would have affected him. But I made a conscious effort to look pretty, for him. And I was nervous. Earlier I had walked in the metro station where he was already waiting for me. I had looked at him and had expected him to say something perhaps nice. But he simply asked, “Which station are we getting off at?” That was typical him.

I was standing next to him. We kept looking at each other. The initial hesitation faded away and we started talking normally. It felt like old times when he was making fun of my hair style, of my random thoughts and contrastingly colorful attire. I never took offence. I, as a matter of fact, quite enjoyed his banter and our laughing trips. I did not quite recollect how and when I had fallen in love with him. It was always about sunny mornings, meaningful inconsequential conversations and smiles. I had gotten used to him. I did not give two hoots about all the talks that were going around about us because nothing mattered. Only he did. We had gotten close and before we realized, we were sharing our good, bad and ugly stories with each other. Stories for me are important. They mark a very important foundation in any relationship. Like two best friends, we swore never to disclose our secrets to anyone. We started spending every waking hour together, really and virtually. 

The metro came to a screeching halt and broke my train of thoughts. It kept stopping at stations every two to four minutes. I was not keeping a track of time because our stop was far off. People kept walking in and out of our compartment. I wasn’t particularly looking at anybody. I was enjoying his company. There were moments when I had wanted people around us to freeze so that I could steal a kiss or two from him. There were unsaid reasons and one fine or not so fine day, we stopped talking. He was lost in his own time and space which I could not be a part of. It was after a long time he had thought of taking out time for me and that meant something to me. My sole purpose that day was to be happy and let him be happy. 

We got off at our stop and went out in search of this old and dilapidated building where we had to take photos for some journal he was maintaining. There was a nip in the air.  I stood for a moment to observe how scores of people were just carrying on with their chores with no care of the world. We took a rickshaw to the majestic build, albeit in ruins. It was beautiful. I was a little distracted by the architectural splendor of whatever structure that remained; and faces and activities of the people there. But I kept listening to his stories too. Faint sun rays filled the courtyard, so people gathered there to soak in some warmth and forget about the harshness of the wintry day for some time. Children were running around, a few were flying kites too. There were people taking photographs while some were simply sitting quietly lost in their own thoughts. Amidst the chaos, there was so much peace in that place. We sat there for a while. Flock of birds in a pattern which only they comprehended flew away homewards while we waited for the sun to set. It was time for us to go home too.

We again took the metro. It was crowded. We had to struggle for space. We were talking less now.  I did not know when I was going to meet him next, if we would have stories to tell each other if we did meet. How things had changed between us - from being strangers to two peas in a pod to two strangers seeking familiarity in each other’s presence. There were only unanswered questions in my mind. Did I want those answers? May be not. It was good this way. I looked out of the window to see myriads of people passing by without casting any impression on my mind. I just kept wishing the metro got more crowded so that he stood really close to me and I could smell him, look into the depth of his eyes and feel the warmth of his breath. Strange desires.

MBA Hiatus

Ideally, in a B-School, people have time to explore various options - reading, writing, theatre, travelling and so on and so forth. One has so much time to do so much. I did not do anything, I feel at times. Most importantly, I did not write. I feel bad about it. So MBA is done and I have started working and I have become more observant in life, generally speaking. I am going to restart writing and be in tune with the winds of change :) Keep reading!

BEAUTIFUL

So as a part of my college assignment, I made a video for an ad on a certain social issue. This is my first attempt at shooting, directing and editing a video, so very happy about that! :D
Do watch it and let me know your views! :)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AadEhCiOX1o

Yem Bee Yay

Life at B-School is like smoking a cigarette for the first time. You are excited about taking your first drag, the first post graduate course of your life. There are apprehensions galore. Will you like it, the cigarette and the course? Will you able to prove yourself through this? What if you get addicted to it and never come out of this evil habit? What if MBA doesn’t let you sleep and kills you slowly? But as they say, every cloud has a silver lining. Negative questions become hopeful questions. What if the first drag makes you feel like you have attained nirvana? What if you get all the answers to your questions in your life through this course?

That is your train of thoughts before taking the first drag. Now that you have a lit up cigarette in hand, you end up taking the first drag anyway. How about the second and the subsequent drags which are on their way? Will you take them? Maybe you will. Like everything else in life, you are giving it a shot after all. With the second drag, you realize what kind of journey you have embarked upon. You cough and choke, but you recover just fine. You meet people who are already into smoking, who are already in a B-school. You learn how to take a drag smoothly. You learn the various subjects and opportunities the course has to offer. You are buzzed slightly, but you still continue to smoke. You are bored/frustrated/lost/contented/curious during the course, and you continue to be so or perhaps change for good or bad. In any case, you trudge through the course with lost hopes or regained hopes.

You are either sad or happy that the cigarette is getting over. You got exactly what you wanted out of it. Will you go for another smoke after the first one gets over?

Life at B-school is trying things out and making sense through the cloud of smoke.

IF

If you let me fly today,
I may lose my way.
If you set me now free,
I may never come back to thee.

If you hold my hand tight,
I may never learn to fight.
If you tie me down with a chain,
I may fight my way out of the pain.

If you throw me into the sea,
I may find it difficult to breathe.
If you let me explore the depth of the seas,
I may get to see beautiful animals and coral reefs.

If you smear dirt on my face,
I may find it full of shame and disgrace.
If you paint my face with filth,
I may learn eternal beauty is a myth.

If you kiss me on a night that is moonlit,
I may mistake it to be love, so sweet.
If you let us come close and closer,
I may start believing in a life of love and no fear.

If you promise to be with me forever,
I may want to depend on you forever.
If you assure me of leaving me never,
I may build our dreams together.

(Footnote: Well there is a pattern in the poem (not the rhyme,no) but something subtle. The hint is that something peculiar is repeated in every stanza. The tone may be? Or the contrasting options? Read again :) )

JIG-SAW PUZZLE

Put the pieces together,

Put your mind on the task.

Look what you've got!

Visages behind the jig-saw mask.

POINTLESS

It has been a long time that I have sat down and written something. Oh wait, the last one was my farewell mail. Two mails in fact - one for the master, one for the dame and one for the little boy who lives down the lane. But doesn’t that make it three mails then? Ha! Gotcha! I was just checking your mathematical proficiency. Quite deplorable I must say. So yes, where were we? Fare thee well and the jazz. Yes. But jazz? Really? I do not quite understand jazz music. I prefer slow rock or blues. It suits my nature. That reminds me of last year’s Earth hour day. I convinced a bunch of friends to go to this palatial mall and watch the city go dark for one hour in the night. Well, that was my idea of doing something for the nature or some such.

Ideas are galore but too less time to implement all. Unlike the famous (or infamous) ads by Idea which were implemented fine, but were didactic and annoying. You know what annoys me the most? People! People, who don’t speak the truth, but speak absolutely unnecessary things behind your back which have never happened in real. And as quoted in some t-shirt I had seen long ago, the problem with real life is that there is no background music. Fancy that!

Haha! Fancy. Fancy dress competitions back in school; the safest way to make a complete fool of oneself. But the funny thing was that others were fools too. So you, taking part in the competition, would not be branded as a more or a lesser fool. Oh what a fool! I forgot to tell you about this latest touch phone I bought a while ago. Turns out, smart phone, as they say, is the next “hot” thing in the market. I liked it very. I used to play games on it, check mails, make calls and so on and so forth. But I somehow found it excruciatingly slow and sold it off to my office colleague at a much lesser price.

Office used to be fun. The morning would start with a long tea-drinking session followed by inconsequential talks with my cubicle mate. Nothing eventful generally used to happen. Therefore, I used to make an ordinary event sound special, such as, seeing a caterpillar near the fountain or finding a cockroach in the curry from the cafeteria. Absolutely ordinary events, I tell you. The day would end with a bus ride back home, where I would see familiar faces on the bus or I would not see any faces at all because I would be fast asleep!

How much can one sleep anyway? After four years of engineering course followed by two years of IT job, I cannot but think of only sleep and some respite. Not long sleeps but. Lot of small naps. But what’s the point now? I am sitting in front of the computer, typing out something and not worried about sleep. Did you say ghost? Nah! Too harsh a word for me. I am a normal person who loves to check mails, and at times, read the same mail again and again. Sigh. So now that I am done writing all the farewell mails because I quit my job, I am jobless and should write something nice. Any pointers, anyone?