Treading Time

I am the youngest in my family; hence, has always been distant from responsibilities of the household. I have always been pampered by my mother, being the youngest of her nine children, and quite obviously I have enjoyed this gift. I remember not doing anything at home, not knowing what went deep inside the family. And then, suddenly I grew up, burdened by all sorts of responsibilities. How did this happen? One day, I am just the ignorant youngest child, and the next, I stand facing life's reality; getting a job, paying the bills, parents' hospital trips and whatnot. How quick it all changed, I wonder. I am supposed to earn a living, take care of my father's health, make sure the bills are paid, etc etc. I didn't want to grow up, leaving the comforts of childhood, and yet here I am. Life's not fair, but then nobody said it would be!

Crazy. Stupid. Love

It has always been difficult to put her into words. She's been the one person I have adored for various reasons. Above everything else, I love her for the madness she so radiantly projects. I have no recollection of how it all started, but sometime back years ago, I met this exceptionally awesome girl who had a charismatic aura about her. You cannot 'not' fall for such thing, in the most friendliest possible way.

It is her smile I remember from that Friday years ago. Smile. Nothing else. She was almost hiding beneath the killing smile she wore. But then, it was hard to tell; she was one-third of the trio, the mysterious trio to be precise. Nobody knew what went in their minds, and they were pretty good at keeping that a secret. And today, years after that Friday I know what was hiding behind that mischievous smile of her.

I have vague memories of being distant from this weirdly amazing girl; for reasons best known to either of us. And then, there was a switch. I am reminded of that crazy long drive on a rainy day, that changed it all. It brought me closer to what the mystery was. I can clearly recollect our stupid conversations over the phone, sms-es, online chats, etc. where we had the bizarre of the bizarre-st possible discussions, over well... nothing! She is one crazy girl who never cease to amuse me.

The rebellious brat that she was, has always inspired me to do things my way. I am clearly in awe of her, if 'love' is too cheesy a word to describe what we have. Be it the feminist regimes she heads, or her wanting to go to certain 'barred' areas, or one of the several of her defying moods, she has been something of a charm. But it is not only her non-conventional or rebellious attitude that I have fallen for, it is her ability of being the bestest of friends, without needing to be. She can say such silly things, and still please you and sweeten up your bitter moods. 

To one of the craziest, loveliest, awesomest rebel I have ever known.  

To all the stupid discussions that we had, or wanted to.

To, well... you.

Birthday Wishes.

Tavalodet Mobarak, for the half Persian that you are ;)     

Love.

Forever.

Sleep. Dreams. Rewind

There is sleep in my eyes, which is a rare thing. Yet, somehow I needed myself here more than at the cozy bed I just gave up. I have you on my mind, and tonight's the clearest memory I ever had of  you. And then, I cannot reach for the phone and type an sms and click 'send', or put in your number and make a call. It was a well figured idea to have bid you goodbye, and it's not my ego that stops me from reaching you. I am sure you never understood, and I know you never will and I know how much it irritates you when I tell you this same thing over and over again. I can only smile, knowing you will never give up on 'trying' to understand, and yet it feels a little sad that the trying will not reap any results. I know I have messed up big time, and I know there's no going back; but, there's so much a man can wish for. You will always remain the best thing that happened to me.

The 'New Year' Post!

The 11th day into the 2013, and I haven't yet found a reason to have a 'happy' new year. It'll probably take time. So this is just a formality - the 'new year post', to make sure I haven't lost the pace!

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!