Keep The Change...

"I will go to Karol Bagh!", said the autowallah. I stood there, surprised, at their capabilities of pissing me off even beyond what I imagined were the limits. The Delhi autowallahs are undoubtedly the official thugs, roaming free in the city, I have always believed. I had simply asked him if he would take me to New Friends Colony from Connaught Place, and am not sure how his 'wanting' to go to Karol Bagh helped my case! I am not sure what contributed more to my frustration; the road-blocks around the city, or these cheats with their three wheelers! I was determined to go home, using their three wheelers only, and without letting them exploit me or my pocket. So, I just hopped on the next one and instructed him to drive me to my destination. He politely told me that he will have to take a detour and that will cost me more than the usual. I ignored.

"Sahab, aaj toh har jagah bandh hai. Ye kaand jo ho gaya hai!", almost shouted the driver. I shrugged in frustration, agreeing to whatever he was saying. I was obviously aware of the kaand that he was talking about. The city has been revolving around this singular event, and despite my non-interest in news, I was updated about the turn of the events. And why not, it has been one of the most gruesome incidents that can occur to the face of mankind. A girl was raped. Gang-raped. I feel ashamed, knowing that this is not the first time that such a thing has happened in this capital city. Such news are so frequent that the word 'rape' doesn't evoke any disgust like it used to, it has become synonymous with other petty crimes like theft or a lost article. And honestly, nothing could be much worse. It is not a petty crime. It is not a word for frequent use. And yet, here I am, sitting in a place where the number of rapes is making a record. I have always loved my city, like really 'love' it, and now, all this makes me almost puke. I detest, if not hate, being a part of such a worthless place.

"Aaj toh us ladki ka maut ho gaya hai na, bauhat gussa hai logan mein", the man was now deep in his thoughts. "Hum nahi jaane denge apni bitiya ko baahar aise sahar mein, bhej rahe hain hum usey wapas apne gaaon", he almost shook my thought process with his loud agony. I felt sad, for his daughter, who I didn't even know for sure, existed. I was awake now, aware of my whereabouts. There were police barricades standing erect, blocking the roads. The place was deserted. This was not the Lutyens Delhi I knew. 

I have not been a keen observer of news, ever. And yet, somehow this one particular news had left an imprint, on my thoughts. I do not know what is, but there is something about this whole event (given that this is not first of such cases), that has left people protesting against I don't know what. At times, I want to quit everything and join them for the fight that is every citizen's 'duty' (at least) to be a participant of. I am a nobody in this population of over 17 million that the city proudly boasts about, but if everyone started feeling that way, the entire 17 million would become a 'nobody', and those protestors are not fighting to end up being that.

I am sure there is nobody out there who wouldn't be sad at the demise of the victim of this inhuman act. "Sahab in haramiyon ko toh public mein maut deni chahiye", and my assumption was verified by the autowallah. 

One day. I was out for one day, and found nobody who was not talking about what was happening around. I feel a bit better. At least I am not living in a world filled with impassive zombies. I don't expect everyone out there to go out and be a part of the protest or raise their voice against the injustice. But, it is satisfactory enough that the Delhi-ites realize that they have something to be ashamed of.

"Chhutta nahi hai humare paas", pleaded the old man. I smiled. I walked away. All of his one sided conversation and my humble nods had made me almost forgot that I was supposed to be shouting at the guy, and abuse them all, generalizing their types. 

No, I didn't need the change back. I am supposed to keep (making) the change!

I could be anybody hiding in the chaos  

It is I who decide!

Relapse

Time. I finally managed to get hold of it. I had lost track. Of days, dates, and almost everything. I am not busy, I am just lost, in time. There had been a lot going on in my mind, and I have just lost myself somewhere in the middle of it all. I have survived the end of the world (I'm sure 21/12 is gone), and I am still waiting, for certain ends. I am trying to regain, what is lost in the relapse. I will perhaps find it some day. I am sure I will. 

Obsolescence.

(n) obsolescence (the process of becoming obsolete; falling into disuse or becoming out of date)

Have I? Utilized my salvage value already? I don't want to believe it, yet! But, there are far too many reasons to make me accept that. I don't want to quit, and I know I won't. Yet, there is this dejected voice that pulls me back each time I try, and it won't be long before I give in to this dejection. 

 

The Connect

He once told you how he could not feel upset about something he should be. You just smiled then, said it's okay. And you smile now, knowing it's not okay, because you are there at the same position today, feeling exactly like he felt, not upset! Maybe I should be okay with it, not being able to be upset about something is a good thing, right? I had told him the same thing. But, good thing or not, it doesn't feel right, it doesn't feel good, and nothing feels okay, like it should be. But, he had other reasons, I have others. It is not the same thing. It can never be. He could never be wishing for what I wish for. It feels cruel. It feels inhuman. But it feels thorough!

To Make A Call

I can hear the clock ticking. I can break down the melody, into instruments. I can count the pixels in a newspaper graphic. I don't know if I want to.

I am not feeling bored. I am not short of things to do. I am feeling just a little shallow today. I want to pick up the phone and make a call. I just don't know who should I make it to. I want to vent out my irritation, I want to tell somebody how many seconds I counted, how many instruments played together in that melody, how many pixels have I counted. Above all, I want someone to listen. And I know I won't make that call. I cannot inflict my frustration on someone else. I cannot transfer negativity. I have a role to play. I have a smile to pass. I have to pretend everything is as it was.  

I have a role to play! 

And how much I care.

 

Pointless

Hatred. I don't know how can you be so ruthless, cruel even. Waiting for an end, someone's end. Someone's existence or not, doesn't affect you, why! When did this happen? How? You were not always the opposites. Then how did the bitterness seeped in! You won't be affected, knowing, realizing how inhuman you have become, You cannot help it, and you should not expect anyone to understand. You cannot complain. You will just wait, for someone's end.

The Escape...

I had already accustomed myself with the weird noises that this machine was making, but there are far more delighting noises coming from outside. It isn’t a noise, it is a musical accord rather. It has gone on for several minutes, but I had decided to ignore it long back; too lazy to get up and check. But the creaky noises that the door now had started creating made me jump. I wasn’t scared, but excited. So I was right! It is after all, the rainstorm. The laptop I was using for hours now had already fallen short of measures to entertain me, so the storm is undoubtedly cheering.

The colors outside the windows have changed to deep and dark hue of the blues from the last time I checked outside. The last time was almost three hours back. Damn the laziness and internet! 

It wasn’t raining when I first stood in the semi open entrance to this house on the eighteenth floor. It is only the spatters, but I love them just perfect. The flawless blend of the lightning with the dazed sounds from above, and the water spray that wet my face, is indeed a good break from the internet surfing. The rains come rather as a surprise, a change from the otherwise conventional weather of this November. But it isn’t the weather change that I am jubilating; it is a personal euphoria!

It is a beautiful place, this town, far away from the hustle-bustle of my city. This is just a personal getaway, an attempt to hide from everything chaotic that has been happening around lately. I am almost missing some people who would have changed this entire experience of getting away from home, but then, it would also defeat the purpose of my escape from the city; solitude. 

The rains are unexpected, in this month, and in this place. But then, it cheers me up, so logically, it doesn't matter what month, or what place this is. I haven't found a solution to my escape yet, but somehow this feels right. This two bedroom apartment in the middle of nowhere is somehow the perfect place to be right now. But this won't last forever. The rains will stop soon. The euphoria will end, soon. And despite knowing the arrival of this 'soon', this escape from the city, its people, and everything... was worth it! 

Kya Khayal Hai...

Dhadkano ki taal baaje
Saanson ka iktara...  

There is something to this day, it is not just any day. It marks something special... I am almost needed to look seven years back and... well, miss everything!

Dhadkano ki taal baaje
Saanson ka iktara...
Aangan mein sajaye baithe
Suraj chanda taara...

There's a huge difference in that Wednesday of October, 2005 and this Friday today. To be honest, they almost feel like the two days of the same week. And yet, so much has changed. If I hadn't lived the last seven years, I could almost expect today the same as it is, after the Wednesday that was. And, despite having lived these years, I am elated to feel that the difference is only like any other 48 hours change that we see on a regular basis. 

Chalo baant lein hum zindagi
Zara aaj yun kar lein
Kaho kya khayal hai...

 
Yes, I want it to be the same, and no matter how hard I tried, it wouldn't ever be. Some damages are irreparable. And yet, I am happy these seven years happened, and hopefully there will be several other seven years to it. No matter how different things look like, I am actually happy that these things at least exist, and thankfully did not fall apart with the passage of time. So, when I see the differences, I am relieved, knowing how much worse it could have been. A damaged existence is at least better than inexistence!

Chalo baant lein hum zindagi
Zara aaj yun kar lein
Kaho kya khayaal hai...

Aap se do baat kar lein
Yaadon ko jebon mein bhar lein
Aaye hain hum kuch dino ke baad...

For the friendship that has survived the tests of time, and no matter how blurred the bonds have become, shall survive several similar ones in the future. 

Yaaron ki saubat mein aake
Dheere se kuch gunguna ke
Yuhin kat jaate hain din aur raat...
 

Dhadkano ki taal baaje
Saanson ka iktara... 

 

Revelation!

He was not aware that it had happened, and that it had happened in such a frivolous way, like it didn't mean anything; especially after he had suffered long, too long, hoping that it would happen one day, and would happen good. But now, he was taken aback, for he did not know how he should react. Happiness, was one thing he was sure that would come along with it happening, but now he was not sure of anything. It was perhaps a confused state of aftershocks that he was going through, and he was still hoping; for realization of his dreams!

He was living it, and yet could not take it for reality, he was seriously shocked indeed. And then it struck him, he hadn't had a happy dream for a long time now, why would he be having one right now! It was real, after all.

He was happily having an amicable relationship with his sufferings, and having to spend a day any differently was a long shot. Then, how could he have a multitude of happy moments, or relief, if not happiness. It was perfectly normal to be surprised, or shocked to say the least. He was told by several that he has had capabilities, and he has it in him, but it had always sounded fake to him. He had just stopped believing in himself. He had quit before he could even initiate at trying. And then, he was given a chance now. 

He hadn't risen up from his belief of being incapable, but he had achieved a partial relief, for now he knew he could not be useless anymore, he wouldn't ever be! And so, he can sleep in peace without having to be losing himself in the dark abyss of what his nights had become.

Midnight Happiness!

Another of those sleepless nights, and one more glance at the clock. Time's not moving. Eyes refuse to shut down. Maybe, if I had tried to not think about not overthinking, it would've helped. And now, all I can wait for, is the morning light that would enter through the defunct ventilator of my dark room, and something tells me it wouldn't be any soon. I have already given up on so many things that people told me to try. I am almost midway a book that I started only ninety minutes back. It wasn't the depth of interest that made me not leave the book, it was just the desperation of killing time, or trying to get bored and have some sleep. And yet, I am past midway a biography of a woman that I knew too less about. Measures of desperation, if I had to call them, I would but they are not; if only there was a less complicated way to get answers why I cannot shut my eyes and dream!

I didn't know it existed somewhere on this rented hard drive of my computer, and I wouldn't call it an extension of the measures of my desperation to get some sleep, somehow all I want to do is watch this and have something to smile about. I remember watching it the first time, I had loved it despite the fact that I had abhorred the idea of watching an animated movie. Nonetheless, 'UP' was an exceptional one at that.

Two alphabets, and two hours of a simple, uncomplicated and happy images. Somehow it has always managed to bring a smile to me, even though I was watching it the nth time. There is something about it, the story, or the lack of it; I don't know what, but it brings a comforting happiness to you each time of all those million times you watch it. Usually I would sit and criticize anything given to me, the sense of it, the lack of sense, the non-sense, almost everything. But, it is an exceptional thing. You wouldn't practically be able to make your house float high in the sky using helium balloons, and I'd usually say it's ridiculously insane, but I am amazed by this animated man. Maybe I have always loved the idea, the thought of it. Or, maybe it was only because I have admired fantasies irrespective of the fact about how much of a critic I am. But, it brings happiness to me. And I can watch it again, and again, and again.

Each time of it, I am reminded of this brilliantly amazing girl. She has always been the reflection of Ellie. I have always admired her adventurous streak, vehemently positive attitude and her idea of never giving up. I remember the madness of her first image that my mind has stored somewhere, of all those times when she's done outrageous things and not caring less about anything in the world. She'll always be an image of Ellie of some Carl, no matter how her hijab stops her from doing things she says she can, but won't. She is that mad girl I saw in my studio years back, and she'll always be!

If not sleep, all of it gives me a punch of happiness, no matter how short of a span it would last. To Carl. And, to Ellie! ;)

The First Sight - Love and Happenings!

Human behavior is strange; there can be an endless debate on the same, and would still lead to no conclusion. Yet, wondering what affects or rather influence the behavior of a particular person, is inevitable. Life is no short of complexities, and here is added one more!

Time and again, I have dismissed a lot many cheesy lovey-dovey notions about what they call 'love'; to the extent that for once, I was convinced it's all but bullshit! But this thing has stuck around forever, adding curiosities and creating confusions over the same subject over and over again. So, I am obliged to give it a moment and ponder over what exactly is the thing called love, and to my own surprise, I have quite a few answers, and more reasons to believe it is more than pure bullshit!

I remember belonging to a world where many rejected even the idea of this so called love and many others questioned even its existence! But, as far as I remember it was a lifetime ago. Too long! Like it never was...

I usually remember the dates and days, but this morning was different; I don't remember what day or date it was... Maybe I remembered everything till 'that' moment, when she entered the decaying studio! It is beyond impossible to make words how that gave 'life' to that studio. I have no idea what was, but something was, weirdly 'special' about this girl. If I remember God answering my prayers instantly, it was that day only.

I am not morally allowed to look back and reminiscent things about her, and yet here I sit writing about her. I remember her telling me 'I am single' had made me terribly happy. As if, I had already won her. Funnily enough, she was with a guy by the evening of the same day, who she was seeing for the last four years. Why? I had re-played her words several times in my mind. Was she lying then? Or, now? But, why the need, at all? I felt stupid, kind of been cheated. It ended, before it could start.

It wasn't meant to be a memoir to look back at, and miss or think about, but it became. Her 'I didn't want to hurt your feelings' was enough to hurt me, and relieve at the same time. I wonder why she did what she did, but I couldn't question it then, the way I can now. Seven days of her being, and seventy million after she had gone; I guess they had given me answers to all the questioning I had done earlier about 'love', as they call it. I have always hated all the boys with 'that' name, as of her guy. I look back at it all, and I feel funny. I still remember how happy it made me when she had told me she had broken up with him. It felt like a victory, again. Damn! Us guys are stupid.

I still sometimes read her old emails, messages, chats and recorded calls. It all feels like a lie, each time.

I didn't want to be in a rebound relationship, and so I didn't jump in right after her breakup. But, she had other plans. Suddenly her messages had increased; she was calling me instead. It all looks like a weird fairytale as I think of it now. Exactly three years later after 'that' day in that dead studio, she came revisiting Delhi. I don't think I have given something more importance over my work, no matter how shocking it might sound. But, there I was; receiving her at the airport, in a borrowed car, in the middle of a design crisis that my urban design studio had become. Sounds like a loser, if you ask me. But, it was the only logical thing I could think of, at that time. After the perfect week back in my first year, here we were, trying to get a perfect month. And yet, a month couldn't live up to the perfect week that originally was.

I almost remember each thing that had happened the following year, and I play it repeatedly in my head. Somehow, the so-called bond was broken the day she told me she was engaged to get married next year. Trust me, I am laughing at it as I type this. Damn, I don't remember how things went from that perfect month failure to failing everything. I have often played it in my mind, what might have gone wrong, or if you ask me, what made things 'right' because surely it wasn't, earlier. Few days later, she was just gone. Vanished. Poof! All her existence ceased. She had deleted her social networking accounts, blocked my email addresses, all of them, changed her phone number and even her house address. It all started to feel like she didn't even exist. Like, she was a figment of my imagination.

And then, one day my phone told me that she was coming back to Delhi. How? Why? I have no clue why she bothered to text me. Suddenly, she wanted me to attend to her at the airport, she wanted to live at my place so we could spend time together. However insane it might sound, things were getting messier than they already were. I don't think there was anything I could do about it. I just refused to be stupid again. I didn't want to be. Why do girls have to do this? I am not generalizing girls, I am generalizing their type. Why do they want us to be on the hook, something they can turn to, each time they want to feel good about themselves. They don't bother. They don't care.

As of today, she's been married for over a year now. Her wedding day matches my birthday, and even though I don't want her to be a part of my birthdays in any form, living or a memory, she somehow just shows up somewhere in the corner of my mind. I have tried, and yet I cannot bring myself to hate her. I never could. I never will. She still remains the only girl I have ever loved truly, madly, deeply; even though, it is one Bollywood Movie, my life is, it is true.

I have no idea why I am talking about all this now, when I haven't shared it with anyone else in the world, never before; and now, I am writing on a blog that's public. But, somehow I feel better, writing about it. It feels like I have finally shared it with somebody, irrespective of the fact that I won't even know who all read this, or didn't. I didn't think of thinking before publishing it, I didn't care if it sounded poetic, or in flow with the rest of my posts as I try to make them, every time. I just wanted to get this over with. It's been ages this has remained in the drafts, and suddenly I felt suffocated and wanted to be done with it, once and for all. It is indeed something I didn't want everyone, or anyone to know, but now it almost feels like I don't care if the whole world knew. I am sounding insane to myself at the moment, and somehow it feels good. Maybe this is why I wanted to do this. Closure!

Do I Need It?

So it's the first Sunday of the August, and everyone's yelling 'Happy Friendship Day' at the top of their voices. I wonder what is so different about the day? I have never understood the concept of it, why do you need some first Sunday to celebrate friendship as such! I know I have always been blabbering about how I have the bestest friends on Earth, and all, and I should probably be screaming celebrations, 'Happy Friendship Day'-ing each one of them, but I don't. If anything, I find it all a bit pretentious. It is not a day to celebrate friendship, it might as well be one to remind you 'Oh! Yes, I have friends!' and isn't that a bit sad? I guess, it is. So, I am obediently replying to all those texts and emails, but to the ones I am friends to, in the best possible way, each day is one Friendship Day.

Lost

I don't think, this is what I wanted to begin with... I thought, this one would be happy!

I sit all day thinking of getting my hands on a computer and writing something seriously serious, and when I do, the thoughts are all haphazard and I no longer am able to structure my thoughts and write what I wanted to. 

Do I think I have lost it? 

Well, I think I never had it.

Over and Out!

Well, it was this day I have always wondered about. This, the ending of it all. Finally these years end; it is a relief in most of the ways, and a little down somewhere I feel I am already starting to miss something.

Nostalgia.

It was a long journey from where I began and to where I have reached today. It wasn't so sweet, but nostalgia finds its way into every/any small memory that needs to be re-lived. 

Looking back at these last 5 years and I find a mix of a lot many memories. Not all of them are the good ones, but each one is worth remembering. Whether it was the new beginning in the first year where I had made some of the best friends of my entire life before or the day when I lost those few. Most of it (read the life in the past five years) has been about people I have gotten used to, fond of, in millions of ways. Friends. But, having said that, it was definitely a several other things that made up these years. Pleasant or otherwise, everything had a role to play. I am amused, how many different phases there have been to my life. 

Started on a rather reluctant journey of gaining this coveted title. Architect. I was never really fond of adding that Ar 'dot' before my name, and I still am against it. But, it's just the smile that follows when you're done thinking about the longest five years of your life. Yes, they were unexpectedly long. People often say 'I can't believe how quickly time passed...', but for me, they have been tolerably long, these years. It's not like I mind them being that long, it's just that for me, it couldn't be like the blink of an eye. I mean when I started, I was just old enough to be eligible to vote, or drive a car, and now... I am almost old enough to be married and called 'uncle'. Shit! The thought scares me.

Surprisingly, there were many 'firsts' that happened in these years. The first time I stayed up through the night. The first time I had a six hour exam. The first time I fell in love. The first time I failed in a subject (four for that matter) and of course, the first time I almost wanted to kill myself. I am getting a hint where this frustration is coming from. ;)

 I don't think I could ever get tired of thinking about all these times. Despite some of the best and a few low times, I feel relieved. It is finally over! Maybe, it was over already the day I stood fighting in my thesis jury. But, all this while there has been a slight burden of still being linked to a place I want to get rid of. And now, with everything behind... It is finally done. I am happy. Over and out...

I Hate This...

Well to begin with, let me clarify the title of this post... This is something that I don't want to do, right now at least. All this thinking, writing, introspection etc. etc. for two reasons... One, I am almost convinced that I am in a state where I'd die with depression if it continued for too long and two, well, I'd wound up nowhere even if I tried!

I have reached at a point where am sure everyone comes and think 'What next?' and I don't know how they move on from there, but for me, it's been hell of a task. Not that I am done, but it's being one.

Why couldn't just things come the 'right' way by default? Not having to think what is right, and what is not! Would it hurt God if He made things less complicated? I mean, why couldn't I just explain myself the countless sleepless nights, or why can't I make sense of extremely distorted pattern of thoughts I have in mind! Maybe He does mind easing up on us, even a bit! That is not questioning Him, it's only human to be frustrated and thinking 'why me?', and I do realize am not alone, but do I really care about them others? No, I don't.

I haven't got a clue where does all this frustration, irritation and depression (if you want to call it), comes from. People often ask me, 'why can't you just be okay with things?' and that is when they are telling me about their 'bigger than anyone else' problems, in response to my potentially negligible (as they would like to call it) issues. And I think, can you be? No, you can't be, nobody can be! So stop questioning me...

So again, why couldn't just things come the 'right' way by default?

Switching Scenes...

All this talk of getting old

It's getting me down my love...

They used to be happy words. They really were. But no more...They almost make me sad, depressed to be more precise. What changed?

It has gone for too long now, a fraction short in forever. There is a certain heaviness in the air these days, it's almost like am inhaling solid blocks. I don't choke, how much I want to; I don't want to stop existing, I just feel like putting an end somewhere, somehow...

There are people around, and I don't see nobody. I can listen to them, but I can't hear what they're saying. It makes me sadder. There are strangers shouting in the air, and it bothers me they are not talking to me. Why not me? Why  me? Wasn't I used to remain unaffected earlier? What changed?

It is not that book people told me would depress me. I know, it is not that. I started reading it after I had accustomed myself to breathing the solid blocks of air, after the balance ceased to exist. The Catcher in The Rye. I for one, loved it more than any other book I read recently. For the first time, I couldn't relate to the characters in the book; I indeed connected with the author, it was almost like somebody had read my mind and penned it down. That can't depress me, my mind; or else, I'd have always been depressed in my life, and I was not. Never before, at the least! What changed?

White. It was a peaceful color. Calm, poise, soothing and all such adjectives. But not for me anymore. I am disturbed by its existence around me, it is like something sharp is trying to penetrate my thoughts and disrupt the entirety of my mind. Colors, what do they do to you! I don't remember being swayed by anything as obsolete as colors, white and the rest of them. What changed?

I fail to find the answers; I gave up before I began. I wouldn't ever know what changed, no matter how hard I tried, how loud I questioned or how much I try to change! I sometimes enjoy it, the inability to find the answers; but, there are always more questions than I enjoy.

It is sheer out of desperation I am trying to write, forcing the brain to pop out the words it's trying to contain in itself. I once hoped it would make me feel better, and it does, but I am quite tired of being desperate. 

So, what changed? Well, a lot... and I know what did. But I guess I will just keep them confined inside my head.