You, the reminder of those sweet moments,
Happy Birthday.

Downfall

The shadow of grief gets inside and pinches me here and there to announce of it's triumphant entrance. I stop moving my jaws to make a steady hold. I look sternly at things I once dearly loved. My mind goes blank from thought. The shadow makes its move forward to nip my heart like a cruel murderer and blows it into nothing. My poor heart looses it's heart in the midway. The victorious shadow dashes in to block my nostrils and to put me to suffocation. My head weighs a heavy load and tears roll off my cheeks from the swollen eyes just to make those wretched dry marks. At that moment of self-pity, I only wish to fly to my mother and sob in her lap. When I realise I cannot do that, I write here hopelessly for I can extricate myself from this pain in no other way.

Kerala trip

Many a times, when we are bored to death, we guess things of no-importance, we guess things of discreet nature just to entertain ourselves, But in this game of guessing and playing with those ideas, sometimes we miss to mark the clues from within. Later on, how much ever we contemplate on ourselves, we'll never be able to capture those lost clues until a day we surprise ourselves with a double personality.

This is my first tour with friends. I enjoyed each moment of this journey. Dirty sleeper coach, Beautiful Athirapally waterfalls, Romantic Munnar, Girly misunderstandings with Nashi, brightly lit guruvayur temple and not so exciting rope way in malampuzha, bits and pieces of Malayalam we learnt on the way from Soumya's dad, and the dumbo Franscis who will not understand a word of any other language except Malayalam, the melodious malayalam songs(believe me, Pradeep bought those CDs from Franscis on the last day), the houses you dream often to own for yourself, the vibrant colours of those houses, terrible food with coconut oil. And also, there are few more which are either trivial or things that are better be remained untold. Thanks Pradeep and Nasheeda for making it happen. I cherish these days we spent like a family.

Now, you must be wondering how this paragraph 1 and paragraph 2 are related? Yes, there isn't much in common. I just met an other me over there.

PS: More details of the trip are available here in Nashi's blog.

Not yet!

A month passed. I hadn't written even one post. According to the resolution I have taken, today is the deadline to fill this place with some crap. My mind is a bit unstable with happiness. But still I write.. not for the sake of writing as somebody saved me from doing that.

I am happy for many reasons. Today, I met an old friend Smitha at Sowmy's wedding after months. She is not certainly of my kind. But I heavily get influenced by her. She criticises curtly, but she talks all the logic of some perfect world. I admire her for what she is. She threw her ideas to me, after which I wanted to re-write the story 'Lonely Together'.

Before I go re-writing it, here are few more reasons for my happiness.

I fell in love again for the fifth time. You must be knowing by now, that I can fall in love 1000 times(less??) before I die. Have you heard of Nikolai Gogol? The author of Dead Souls. He is the mixture of all my previous crushes and much more. The only bad thing about him is he doesn't know the marketing strategy. He picked up a scary title for such a nice book. If only I am his adviser, I would have given the book a nice title and made him as well-known as Tolstoy and Dostoevsky. I recommend this to all the book lovers. Thank you so much Nasheeda, for taking all the troubles and being subjected to suspicious looks to gift me such a lovely book with a not-at-all suited scary title.

Yesterday was Dostoevsky's birthday. I celebrated with eclairs. Laughing?? Why shan't I? He is the one who kept me busy enjoying the troublesome phase of my life.

We pick out only few from a bunch of friends and call them 'best friends'. When we pick them, we really won't have clear reasons for 'Why?'. We do it blindly with intuition. But when they stand up for you and think what is best for you and keep you to the path when you are straying away, that brings a kind of satisfaction and happiness you can't easily express but can only wipe off the happy tears in embarrassment. Lucky is me to have my best friends.

Today, Sowmya and Ram got married. Their wedding is a simple and happy one. Ram's students made it all bright shouting and dancing. I am happy for both of them. They make a good couple.

Now to the story editing.

The lady of the story, how much ever is she attracted to somebody, she knew when to stop getting the 'crazy excitements' for her mad love and when to stop running after somebody without their consent. For her marriage and love are two different things. They can be put together only when everything goes in sync. She thinks love is full of transient emotions and marriage is only the practical one. She chose not to choose her partner with emotions and chucked him out of her life.

She got married to someone(the same poor fellow of the original story), but why she chose that 'someone' we don't have a clue. She was happy about him. But he remained like the same gloomy poor soul of the O.S(shortcut for the Original Story. I may have to refer to this many more times for it is merely the comparison of the choice consequences). She laughed at his silence. but why? Don't ask me. I am only as much knowledgeable as you are in this matter. What I knew is, she didn't act like his wife but someone he should play his cards right to pursue her. Of-course, he didn't give any heed to her. But she is not disappointed. Why should she be? It is not love to feel that insecurity. She always kept herself available for him with open arms.

He was OK to talk to her as in-charge of the house(as in O.S). In-fact he started liking her, but our hero with torturous conscience felt it sinful even to think of his wife as his own. But everything that isn't yours will pass off. His emotions for his wife took over his gloominess. He courted her with flowers and hummed songs in casual manner but were only meant for her. She smiled to herself with peace at heart that could come only with a wedding.

On 21st December, 1988. he bent his knees to propose to his wife as childishly as a 17 year old will do to his 16 year old girl friend. He changed his lines from usual "will you marry me?". You must observe, they already got married and there is no point in asking her to marry him again. So he said "Forgive me my wife. I had been stupid and took this much time to enjoy the life. I am not as boring as you have seen till now. I can make a good husband."

Now when she is 42(as in O.S), they celebrate their wedding anniversary on 21st December. When they get compliments like 'ideal couple', they try looking pleased for they don't really care for what others say about them. They are happy with themselves.

PS: Title is chosen to shout aloud that I am 'Not yet' dead.

Perceptions

I was back home unusually early at 8.00 in the evening that day being a Sunday. I put my book and bag on the sofa and went upstairs to get refreshed. By the time I re-appeared in the hall, my younger brother was browsing my book of Dostoevsky. He asked me what the story is about. I carefully briefed him what I read. He being a history-lover, asked me few more questions about the author. He still had my book in his hands while I was answering him.

Suddenly, my aunt had come from the kitchen and flared up shouting at him "Keep that away, That is from Satan. Not for you. You must not read any other book than your class books and the 'holy' bible. Have you already forgot the sermons read by 'Brother Someone' in the morning?" I was shocked and quivered. She called my book 'Satan', She called my dear Dostoevsky 'Satan', who wanted to be with Christ rather than with truth, if in-case they two are separate. Though being insulted directly or indirectly, I pitied my brother for his life sentence for no crime.

I didn't speak anything at the dinner even for courtesy. I was baffled to such level. I slept vaguely dreaming of my aunt-like figure burning a pile of books with so much hatred in her eyes which slowly turned to pleasure when there were only ashes left. It is not an exaggeration, if I say, I checked in the morning if my books were in place and were not crumpled with anything 'holy'.

PS: Ask me no questions, I will tell you no lies.

Error in connection

I hated her on our first meeting because she refused me to try her sandals as if she was a Cinderella. But she loved me all the time, may be because she knew that she'll be involved in the cause of my pain and took pity for me. While I started getting symptoms of my pain, I rejected her affection and hurt her as much as possible. I just wanted her away, but even after all the trials, she never left me.

I took a special day, to feel this pain completely and get off with it. I felt it in my tears, flowing uncontrollably onto my cheeks soaking my pillow. I believe, wet cheeks are the best way to exert the coldness. We shall not carry the resentments forward, they spoil the mental health. Then she came. She bent over me brushing the hairs (that fell on my forehead) backwards with her fingers. She forcibly made me sit, not considering the repulsions I posed and hugged me caressing my head with affectionate patting. This humiliated me very much. If I had not accepted her love and ask for forgiveness then, I would have treated myself a heartless now.

I rested my head on her shoulders taking her as my best friend and resumed to weeping. This was continued for a while. When she thought she gave me enough time, she took my face in her little arms and wiped off my tears telling me 'everything will be OK'. Then I saw her eyes suffering more than myself not even having the comfort of tears or a caring companion. I replied her 'Yes, everything will be OK'. I kissed her and she paid it back.

The next three days were just crazy. All the day, we sticked to each other. Talked restlessly about everything. Ate together. Neglected everyone else. We even shared the bed and continued talking till the eye-lids were tired and sent us requests to shut our mouths. Our friends gossiped we might have turned lesbians. It reached us soon. We laughed at the idea. She looked at me asking impishly 'Are we ..??'. I answered her pretending to take a serious tone 'Aren't we..?'

Though we brushed it aside laughing, I feel we would have been proved lesbians unless we got the stopping signals in the form of scary gossips.

Introspection to iWrite

I wanted to change this title from long but hadn't decided on what to. Also, I easily kept on postponing this task for my change-reluctant syndrome! I get attached to extremely transient things of life like my tooth brush, blue comb and this word 'introspection'. It looks funny, if I rewind it now. But I really get senti when I have to part with these things. When red eyes wished me happy wedding anniversary, I have decided to keep my feelings aside and change the title. Because, it is just not fine, when your blog title is 'introspection' and you write fiction.

PS: I spent too much time to decide on this not so convincing title 'iWrite'. Till I find something better, iWrite.

Lonely Together

At this time, my confession is utterly useless for it doesn't know it's target or it's objective.

I'm a woman and of 42 years old with two kids. Yesterday was our twentieth wedding anniversary. Our kids insisted us to have a small gathering with common acquaintances and we had the party. A grey haired gentleman in the neighbourhood, whom we invited for the dinner said, we were the ideal couple he had ever seen. Me and my husband looked at each other and thanked him trying to look flattered. We know what we are not. His comments (probably compliments) heavily perturbed me. I slept very late and woke up early for this confession.

A long time ago, before I got married, I was attracted to a person, who was equally attracted by me I suppose. But for the cautiousness of people in the early stages of love, we didn't talk of it and later we never talked for we were so similar even in our bad qualities. We used to carry ourselves with excessive pride, showing it whenever necessary to wreck the other as if we were weighing on our shoulders the hatred for each other from generations, forgetting that we were actually in love and it is love that is to be shared.

Before we could move an inch in this affair, I got married with another person. It was an arranged marriage but not a forced one. For about four months, I hadn't known what was happening around me. Probably, most of the time was spent in travelling and receiving new people. When we two were left alone to live together, I came back to this world. First day, I didn't cook. He didn't complain and brought some food from outside. I didn't eat. He hadn't asked me to eat.

I convinced myself that it was me who was guilty, who was to take the punishment. So I decided not to trouble this poor man with my childish behaviour. We voluntarily shared our responsibilities to run the home. We started talking to each other about money, food and the home and readily agreed with each other. We made love for the irrepressible craving for the sex, without attraction, without passion, without love. We had kids but never had been really attached to each other.

I guess, he was also punishing himself for something through this marriage. Otherwise, we would have been divorced on the first day, we were left alone. One good thing is, we don't have any qualms about each other and are socially comfortable. We never fight because we never talk more than that is necessary. We don't walk together. We don't hug. We don't care for each other and never shed a tear. But still we will be called an ideal couple at the price of our lost dreams.

Mogli in love

"Mogli! where are you? what have you been doing all this time? ...." I was happily surprised and fired all the questions, without a pause for him to answer. That was my excitement to receive a call from my friend after four months.

Yes, I always enjoyed talking to him for he is witty and ready to pull my leg, almost a dupe for Pradeep. He calls me with names like blacky, kaki, nallammay.. with names of all the black things in the world. Ofcourse, I also do give it back calling him Mogli, jungle boy(once, he had that Dhoni's hair style) and lot more names of hairy animals.

He was lateral entry in our class. Most of my class girls knew him only from two angles. One was the scientist and the other a dashing dancer, winning over few hearts in the welcome party for lateral entries. But I knew the third angle of a most irritating teaser boy in this diligent looking young man.

I continued my interrogation. but unusually he was giving me very straight answers. he didn't irritate me except that he called me 'blacky'. I took this chance and attacked (read somewhere that the best way to defend oneself is to attack) with my teasing skills. He didn't fight back but kept laughing all the time. He hung up after sometime telling me that I learnt the art of talking.

What?? Me..? did I? where and when? This is how we talk every time. Why does he say that? I know, it is not because I learnt anything, but certainly a fatal change in his personality. Who could bring this change? girl? I slapped myself telling he can never fall in love and it was too early to guess. I thought, I was just getting over imaginative.

After few days, 3D called me up to tell how mogli was using others' mobiles to talk with a girl in Hyd. I made a loud cry of 'wow!' A fourth angle! So I am right with my imagination.

He is terrific at anything he takes in. Now it's all his love. Last month, 3D & Co. were surprised when this workaholic took leave just for a headache (That was the reason he had given). After an hour, they called him back to check how he was feeling. But he wasn't in the room, not in the office, not even in Bangalore. He flied to Hyd just to wish his girl "a happy birthday".

Somebody save him from this sweet madness!

Wild kiss

S: Laasya, nee peru entamma?
L: Laata.

Missing - Swetha, 26

my senior in BEC, Trivs' roomy, open-armed, friend of all, pretty, pleasant, with rupunzel's hair, fun loving, a kid when we play, and a guide when we don't, makes the lasses jealous and the lads miserable.

Whenever I imagine a snapshot of my college days, swetha will sure be there teasing about the cat-fights of bhavani and me or having the intellectual discussions with vichi. But I fear something must have happened to her. She deleted her orkut account and disabled yahoo account. I searched for her in some popular communities. No clue. I don't have any other means to send her the birthday wishes.

If you come across my friend swetha(swetha kolli) in future, send my wishes and warm regards to her. In case, she still wants to be hideous, let her be so. but do give her my message that there is someone wishing her the best in life.

Keep off my mind

Keep off my mind

before I sleep.
I shut my eyes but
cannot stop recollecting,
rewinding the days of yore.

Keep off my mind
in the middle of the night.
I don't want to dream of you
and sob in the dark.

Keep off my mind
when I wake up in the morning.
I cannot skip your thought
and move on.

Cane Juice

walking down the street
with you my beloved.

pushing myself for an approach shot
and not to foozle anymore,

gripping my guts to tell you
one more time,

getting ready to defend myself
for worthiness to be of you,

I let you to take me off my mission
and utter things to myself.

walking down the street
to have the cane juice.

In the name of you

Another sleepless night
in the name of you.

With no haste
to show you off
that my love is true.

With no desire
to track the sign
you reciprocate.

With no self-blaming
that I couldn't be nowhere
near you expected.

With a feeling, incomplete
that I cannot do
all that I want to.
and letting that invisible superbeing
rule my world.

Here is..
another sleepless night.





PS: This piece of prosaic poetry is written, when I still had that feeble hope in God. Pic is taken from google image search.

Odour of OD

There are two kinds of government officials I knew.

One will be obedient and friendly. A sign for the demand of smiling Bapus for nothing. If he smiles more, it means more smiles of Bapu are needed. According to my brother's observation, he/she will be in surf-excel white khaddar shirt/saree, chewing the pan in the most ugliest way and will ask you for a talk at the tea shop nearby. But I don't quite agree with my brother, for I was surprised by a most simple and honest looking person recently.

Other kind are sulky in their own way, making you run around the departments and at the last, showing the timings sign board, even if you get delayed by a minute just to satisfy their provoked feelings and insults from the higher officials or from the family. There will be a bunch of them, who will be ready to laugh at you, for the unnoticeable things like an unbuttoned collar, worn out knee or a common misspelling. Their general feeling is that, their job is not their responsibility but just out of their kindness and pity, they are doing you this favor.

Thank You Note

"Commonplace. I have walked so with all my girlfriends."
"I see it in every movie now-a-days."

I am very disappointed when I have got few abstract oral comments like above for my previous post and felt like deleting it. But for the sake of the pain I took to write, I retained the post. When I didn't get comments for a week, I thought, all who read disliked it. I made up my mind to forget it and to stop looking for comments. Then comes Santhi, to bring back my lost spirits with her comment. I felt so wonderful. She will never know, how much her comments weighed on me. Many thanks Santhi. I would be very glad, if you give me the critic's analysis when something doesn't seem interesting because I want to do better.

When she walked with the moon..

She is all surprised, confused and happy to experience what she always wanted to happen between the protagonists of her favorite stories, in which she imagined herself in the heroine's role and the other wore a mask to wax the cat's curiosity.

After the dinner party with friends, he offered to drop her home. She readily agreed, lest he or someone else might change his decision. They need to walk a long stretch of an empty road with the big trees on both sides and dead leaves falling now and then, to reach her home. This is what made her jump for she thought walking together, that too in the moon light is the best romantic idea ever exists. After few calculations, she kept a distance short enough to let him feel that she is happy to be with him and long enough not to let him presume that she would advance any further leaving her honor behind.

They spoke of nothing for half the distance but she kept observing him in secret. his gait, his state of mind and surprised at his ease and doubted he might not be feeling a drop of what she feels. But this is not the time to be in melancholy, so she put this thought in store, to reconsider it in leisure and to get depressed freely. She wanted to break the ice by inventing a topic of his interest. But she has no knowledge either of politics or of sports or even of the movies. So she kept her mouth shut.

She loosened her hair to make them untangled and and left without tying. He turned to her for attention, which he already had till then and says "Tie your hairs." "Scared?" "No." "I like it free." "Tie your hairs." She obeyed it with no more questions when his request turned to command. She felt happy for he took the privilege of being authoritative. He smiled to himself for her quick reaction of his words.

They reached her house. She cursed the road for being so short, which at other times, got the same person's remarks of being stretched for too long and tiresome. She thanked him for coming along and wished him good night to show him, she is not impressed enough to invite him in. He walked back to leave. She stopped to see if he would try to look back. But to be waiting for him to see is considered almost equal to loosing her head. So she used the filmy trick of dropping something of her hand and trying to pick it. She bent like a dog but he didn't look back till he reached the corner. He waved his hand which prompted her to get up and run inside.

"Who is he? Why were you bent like that in the middle of the road? Are you OK?" her younger brother showered his concern. "No.. No. nothing" and she closed the door behind. She pondered on the events of the day, and segregated them in two kinds, one which support her belief he feels for her and other which support her doubt, he does not. Contrary to a general day, today is a special one, for she counted more events of the former kind. She is happy and prayed for more walking.., for walking with him all her life.

PS: I am ashamed of myself for mostly writing on love theme and letting you think - I think of nothing else.

Prince Lev Nikolayevich Myshkin

Beauty'll save the world. (from Dostoevsky's Idiot) The prince's confidence could have been true, if only, beauty itself is saved from its death.

Prince Andrew's death(Tolstoy's War & Peace) didn't move me much, whereas my friends got considerably disturbed. So I took myself to have been better immunized against emotional stories. But while reading The Idiot, this is how I felt. Except the prince, everybody else is a 'Me'. Too complex and torturous and these are the kind of souls, whom we can never decide to be good or bad. I reckon myself belonging to this group. Prince who is new to live in a society, loves people. He is much pleased to forgive them when they call him an idiot and goes far to believe, they might be true in a way. He talks much better than an educated, though he is never formally educated and befriends all, who take him to a foe. I don't know, when I got impressed with the prince, I never found it until the prince asks Rogozhin with curiosity about the weapon he used for the murder, while, quite a different feeling is expected from him. My shawl got wet with tears. Never before, did it happen for a book. I know, I wasn't crying for anybody's death or the sad ending of the story, but for the pure goodness and the pity, the prince possessed for others. After finishing the book, I felt like, I had always been there at Epachin's and listened to the Prince talking about the capital punishment, the economical condition of Russia, and about the Beauty redeeming the world. Now I crazily hope, Evegenie Pavlovich will write to me about Prince's health, like he is doing to Vera Lebedeff.

I know, it is just a story, and a person like Prince, could never be born. Still, I fancy, Prince is not a character, but someone I met on my way. I hope, Beauty is not all dead. I hope, there are still few seeds left to be planted deep in the earth. I wish, beauty will reborn and shower its spell on everything. I hope, Beauty'll save the world.

Failed attempts

I wanted to be called a bitch, the cool one. Somehow, I thought, smoking and boozing will help me for that. My classmates already tagged me arrogant, so it wouldn't be difficult to get the status I wanted. I asked Mr . X, to teach me how to smoke. He thought, I was kidding and took no notice of it. When I said, I was very serious about smoking, he said OK and told me to try 'More', which is commonly used by the women smokers. We fixed a day for that. Mr. X bought the cigarette for me while coming from his hostel. We met at the sports room near the football ground. Smoking and drinking are not allowed in the campus. but everybody knows, it is the safest place if one is little better than an idiot. So we waited till a love couple had their moonlight crap stories and we had some dirty jokes on them till they left the place. He took out the cigarette and the match box from his pocket. More was brown in colour and too long for starters like me. I looked at it with wonder telling myself, 'this is how a cigarette looks like!". I made some trials to hold it in style without lightening. Mr. X heard some noise from the room. He asked me to hide the cigarette. We checked if there were any inside the room, but there was none, and that could have been just the rattling because of the wind. I lighted the cigarette. Mr. X told me all the basic lessons how I shall not make it wet with saliva. how to hold it between lips and how to inhale the smoke. how I shall make the smoke go up in the wind pipe. I tried well to do it sincerely. But in the 'fag' end, that seemed not at all exciting and I had a slight choke. That was how I dropped out of my smoking classes.

This was another time, when I wanted to try a drink. By that time, Mr. X wasn't surprised, for he understood that I wasn't the same I look. Nashi also joined me. Sowmy and Raj, who would straight away oppose a scandal like this, were not in the campus. So that day only, we planned for the drink party at our favourite place, the football ground. Mr. X and me left for Lingampally to get the drink and told Nashi to be at the ground by 8.30pm. He bought a quarter bottle of some local brand and some eatables to have with drink. We were back in the campus and were waiting at the football ground for Nashi. Mr. X was a bit nervous and started imagining what if that security guard asks me to show what is in it? What if we are caught and are sent to VC's room?. He scared me with all his apparitions. We both were in hurry to finish it off in no time. But Nashi didn't show up. I called Nashi and said something nasty for her unpunctuality. She was hurt. When she finally came there, we settled on the ground in a circle with the bottle at the center of the circle. Nashi was calm, and didn't speak much. I observed that and said "Now, what? You already half-spoiled this beautiful evening by coming late. So you don't need to look at me like that" Nashi broke down her composed state and queued in to my words saying that she wants an explanation for the nasty thing I said on phone. Oh! these women! we say hundred things, when irritated. we don't exactly know the meaning and logic for each word. We both flared up and fired words at each other. When it had been too un-manageable even for Mr. X, I took my bicycle and left for the hostel.

PS: Mr. X doesn't want me to reveal his name though half the people who read it will know who he is.

Midnight reflection

Pradeep called me up few minutes before midnight ( Of course he was on! ) to ask me if I do care to plan for a day out. Yes, It was months since we last met. I think, it was for Sri's wedding reception. And, I'm not even calling Nashi for a weekly-hi. Even if I wanted, I rarely call Soumy as I am afraid, I would just be wasting her time with my prattle. She looks lean, but works like, she is not one, but ten inside. Pradeep repeated his question, adding "I feel like left alone". I know, how he talks, when he is on. He reveals himself just like a kid without any pride. Believe me, this is the only time, I could answer his questions without argument. I said, I don't want to meet anybody this time. May be I was too rude to say that. But that is the truth. I remembered Soumy saying "Do you people know why we became friends? Of all the people here, very few are like us ( not in the likes and dislikes, but the way we are. like school kids. we find happiness just being with each other). For all else, it is in the grades they get. and also the number of years they lived is inversely proportional to the number of friends they have and even to the quality of the relation. One becomes acutely objective and conceited with age. But we are an exception!" I pondered upon these words and suspected if I am getting too old. But surely, I don't have any sort of objective. I couldn't find out why everything has become so palled for me, which was once jubilant and rocking. I am not at all depressed or anything. In fact, quite happy, when I don't think about these things.

I counselled Pradeep for half-an-hour on something related to his philosophical and troublesome questions. After I hung up, read for some time and started thinking about the question I had for myself. I raked my brain with bisection method, converged at the following 'possible' possibilities for my dud behaviour towards my friends.

1. Somewhere in the nook of my mind, I may not be finding them as equals. I may be too much above myself. But I wonder, if I've really become egoistic to this extreme.

2. May be, I am getting bored when they talk.

3. May be, I am just enjoying to be alone.

4. For some unknown reason, I may not like them to think, that I miss them.

5. The last chance would be, I may want to involve too much of myself in the work and planning for the 'objective' of my career.

6. May be the real cause is missed out!

Subscribed to BSNLPathy

After Kiran left, I was literally thrown into a bunch of crashes in this new project. Though Ram was doing what he could from Sweden, I didn't feel like having the support. Ram, Rakesh, Sriram, Karthikeyan almost everybody suggests me to talk to LP. But how? He was the only deserted chump, I left without disturbing anytime since I joined here. He was too intimidating (eh! intimidating is the word I used in a mail to Ram, expressing how I feel about LP)

I seriously felt the verge of loosing interest in my work. I badly needed a little bit of guidance. Everyday got the taste of just before hours of my chemistry exam. I attempted to talk to LP, but failed to extract any useful information. This time, he looked more fearsome, with his questions and the invalid look he gave me. So I thought, not to ping him anymore, and to break my head, if I have to.

But fortunately, Rakesh understood my hesitations. Without my knowing, he probed LP, to guide me further in this project. So, that is how, he started sharing his invaluable knowledge with me. After these 4 or 5 sittings, I don't say I read him, but surely he is not the bad sort of guy as I thought, just that the mapping function of his intentions to expressions is screwed up. Now I am feeling lot better.

Other news is, our office will be shifted to Somajiguda by Monday. Today is the last day in this place. Though I will never think of it again, today I feel like loosing something that is tightly attached to my way of life. It is the place I met some brilliant people and said good bye to some of those. Reminds me the bus stop at university small gate where I picked up and saw off few good people.

An Empty Stomach

Last night, I got into a 211 at around 9.30pm and was waiting for the driver and the conductor to start the bus. I luckily seated myself in a place where I could see the ugliness and the beauty that comes after.

A very lean man, not particularly dirty but without any linen to his upper body was trying to sleep in the bus stop. He was continuously groaning probably because of hunger and was fully in sweat where all else were enjoying the cool breeze of the summer night after a real hot day. To my surprise, he wasn't even begging, which he could have easily done as many were practicing the same keeping their pride aside. After the unsuccessful attempt to sleep, he sat down with his head up looking into the sky as if waiting for his last call.

I have seen many of these, and almost all the time thought of taking them with me to my house and to let them have a good bath, decent clothes and some food. But never did anything in real, though there was no reason that would stop me. This time also, I knew before hand, what I was going to think and how I would lay back doing nothing.

I observed a girl watching him from other bus, which stopped just next to ours. With her expressions, I learnt, she was also feeling like me. At first, she tried to avoid looking at him, but kept doing the same and looked like she was about to decide on something. Finally, she decided to get down and brought a cup of mango juice from a near by shop. By that time, her bus was about to leave. But she wasn't in hurry. That lean man was still groaning with his head over heels. She slowly patted him and gave him the juice. He was too weak to thank her and engaged himself in drinking as fast as he can. She got into our bus and sat next to me. He finished his juice and started looking for that girl with a feeble glow in his eyes. But she didn't see him anymore.

I wanted to talk to her, but I didn't know how to start it and you know my stranger-o-phobia? While getting down the bus, I said "That's nice of you." and she just replied me a with smile, I wouldn't forget and probably would torture me all my life.

Miss You Note

I always loved my work and wanted to be in the office even on weekends. I used to get surprised and feel happy to learn the minor technical details. I thought, I felt so because of myself and I could be like that wherever I'll be. But today, every minute seems like a chemistry exam and I want to run away and find someone like KC. I am getting scared of everything, schedule, work, status and almost everything. I should say, I am feeling technically lonely. I don't know why, but everybody seems to hate me.

I'm missing my TL. I missed him more, when ram gave the quarterly report of his team, which doesn't include me and pradeep and he did that only after rakesh reminds him to do so.

Farewell

I remember, when I used to get irritated for my mentor's (Kiran) over-guidance supposing I knew everything and I didn't need anybody's guidance. But over the time, I learned, what I didn't know, and that his extra care helped me to keep myself forward to my peers. How childish I acted not speaking to him, for holding me responsible of the mis-communication about Nortel's issue. I am sure, no one else, would have spared me so. That piquancy retained in my mind for sometime. I cannot recollect what exactly made me to be on friendly terms with him. Soon, I felt he is the best to guide someone like me. I remember this particular time, for he said 'it is OK!' when a customer pointed out a grave mistake of mine for using 'logical and' in place of 'bitwise and' He replied saying it was just a typo error. I felt so happy to have him as my mentor. Nortel's NPLUS project is the one I most enjoyed working with Pradeep and Kiran. I started liking him for some stupid reasons too like his birthday falls on 9th Nov, which is my brother's too and his son is also just a little older to Laasya. I always do compare him with my brother. Funny? Even I think so. One more funny reason is he is also BEC alumnus.

This friday, we had a farewell dinner for Kiran. After the dinner, while bye-bye-ing and leaving, Seenanna said, 'I don't know of all, but Thulasi will surely miss you.' I thanked Seenanna in my mind, for telling him this, which I wanted to say but wouldn't have said for my ego's sake. Then I tried to express my acceptance for Seenanna's comment and looked at Kiran for his response. He just smiled and replied 'I too.' with his eyes. I strongly feel, it isn't my imagination and that is what he meant, when he looked at me. I loved that half-a-minute for the way we exchanged our feelings unspoken. This reminded me of my brother patting on my shoulder and pulling me closer after his arrival in the airport, when everybody else was so interested to know whether Laasya would recognise him or not. I was in tears of joy for that little expression.

I (loved to) assume, Kiran and me share a special relation, which is unspoken, un-shown and so isn't known to anybody not even to Pradeep, but only to Kiran and me. I will miss him alot. It scares me to be in any other's team, for I guess, they won't accept me like KC did.

I wanted to tell these things to him, but I am afraid, I would get accused of trying to sweeten him for something else.

Perhaps.. a passing infatuation

This time, I hesitate to write down my feelings, as I feel, if they are within my mind, I am not bound to accept them and I think, I can suppress them with little effort. But now, it is out of my control and the moment awaits few words that may possibly express what I feel. I cannot promise to reveal everything now, because I may feel like dying of humility and can either give an abrupt end to this post or just delete it before publishing.

I have been infatuated at this old age and I am not sure if it is passing off or going to take away my peace. I wish, it will pass off, otherwise I wouldn't like myself.

I expected, I would take more words to say that, but now I understand, I cannot make it better, without being concise.

If I die,

Please any of you, show or convey this to my parents, not to perform any religious rituals for the cremation and not to let any of my relatives to touch me.

Note: I am just being too cautious for the unpredictable.

The duo

A simple thought put in a plain and honest expression is always a great combo. It makes one to surrender for a while and listen to. But as someone quotes it right, "making it simple, is always difficult." Even a finer idea without a simple expression, couldn't have made that impression on anyone. And also, expression without a clear thought would be as useless as a headless horse. But there lies the struggle to fit them like in a jigsaw.

I am always awed by particular writings, which may not hold a great story, but magnetises by the thoughts, that would have just slipped away our minds. Then the style of expression makes me feel like eating a candy. It seems, that meaning cannot be conveyed in any better way. I feel, an article or any equally meaningful word, would distort the expression, if misplaced. Those writings show off the writer's ingenious observation, how they think, and react or at least thought to react and importantly the honest way of writing them down. They might have well understood the pros of being honest while writing.

Though I don't aim to become a writer by profession, I love writing, which makes me to think of the concerned object. Sometimes it is otherwise too. I get a thought and so do I write, not to loose it in the current. The transformation of thought to expression is a sweet pain. It pricks slowly, teases a bit more, tortures like the hell in the moment of cliff, and then looks manageable, puts a smile, and finally brings success with a cheerful sigh. Oh no! it is not always a happy ending. Otherwise, some of my posts wouldn't have remained as just drafts, without ever getting published.

My thought gets hungry of expression.

The Final Door

There was a maze of doors, all of them looking more or less identical and seemed to be concealing the most enthusiastic things and the best opportunities one can ever find. When I entered this maze, everybody was cheerful making merry passing through each door. But I observed almost everybody taking a pause of few jiffies before knocking on each door. When I asked my mother, why it was so, she said, "There is a particular door dreadful, dangerous and there is nothing beyond that door. That one sucks people, whoever knocks on and vanishes them to air". She also instructed me to wait for somebody else to knock on any new door to be safe. May be that was the reason, people roamed around in mobs, where only one was leading them all the way. But I couldn't swallow my mom's precaution. I thought, she was indirectly asking me to be lame, to be handicapped.

From the day, I knew about this door, I felt joy in exploring this maze. Whenever I heard somebody knocked on that door, I didn't feel sad, Instead, it built up respect for them for leading the mob. I took inspiration out of every loss. I loved exploring the new ways. Sometimes, I was lost and took time to get back to hope. All the while, I knew, if I go on with this pace, I might knock on that door very soon. But it didn't scare me. Moreover, I felt, there was something else in that door, which these ordinary people failed to understand. I met few like-minded people, who were willing to accompany me my way. But I deliberately restricted them not to do so. For I couldn't bear the loss of any of them for the relation we share and couldn't cause them pain loosing myself. I felt comfortable in solitude.

One day, I reached the final door, but I didn't notice anything unusual. I seriously felt this one certainly couldn't be that door. I was even thinking of the future, making some plans to meet a very best friend of mine and to give her the sketch I was working on. And I suddenly remembered that I promised another friend to give a call. That particular moment completely erased my thoughts of that door. I knocked on it, rather in hurry to finish it all and to keep the promises I made. A blinding light glared into my eyes and somebody pulled me in with a force that even ten times of me couldn't resist, I was thrown into water, but I saw, the door was still open, I struggled to breath. I tried, but couldn't float, as I didn't know how to swim. I tried one last time to get out of the water. The more I tried to resist the invisible force, the more I was put to pressure. In this duel, I was pushed away. A sharp edge of a rock hit my head in the back. My head started bleeding. Soon, all the water got the color of sanguine. I wondered, if my head contained that much amount of blood. The door was closed before I lost the transparency because of the blood.

I was feeling weak and my body temperature was falling down. I tumbled down with forlorn hope. I closed my eyes, as there was no use for keeping them open. In that last moment, I wanted to remember the best thing that happened to me. It occurred to me that knowing of this final door could be the best one, otherwise I wouldn't have felt happy, every time I knocked on a door and checked my vital signs. Last thing I remember was the the smile I had given for the way I could convince myself for my fallacies. I think, I lied there forever and I still lay there buried under the rocks.

Author's note: I was inflicted with march madness and wrote this story which is neither meaningful nor the one that makes you responsive.

Sources of thought: Monsters Inc. , Mr. Nice Guy, Raj's death and me.

Suggestsome title -5 (Contributed by Nasheeda Anjum)

Sashi opens the door indifferently to find the boy very excited as someone in possession of a great surprise. When Pranathi peeps out with a sweet smile, Sashi's expression changes immediately from dejection to surprise that somehow connects to life and everything beautiful. For a moment, he forgets everything and is happy to see her. They exchange greetings with bigger smiles. How much bigger the smiles may be, they fail to convey how happy the two are at this moment.

Pranathi getting hold of her thumping heart, sighs with an expression of at-last-i-have-found-you and inquires Sashi why his mobile phone is switched off. Sashi grins a bit to save some time to think of what to answer. He says that he lost his mobile with a little effort. He finds himself a pro in lying, remembering his experiences with his father and the ease, with which he did it again with Pranathi too. He is sad that he needs to use his special skills for sometime with others too and happy that he saved himself for the moment.

The little boy, who brought Pranathi to the room, leaves with a bit of disappointment as that rude fellow, Sashi even forgets to thank him. Pranathi, not waiting to be invited or asked, comes in and tells him about her surprise visit. Sashi though suddenly became happy, conceals it and tries to manage that this happiness shall not change his decision. He takes a deep breath to change his mood, to reflect that he is not so happy for all she did. He asks her when she did plan all this.

Pranathi ignoring all the general questions, says, "I have been observing you since a fortnight. You seem so dull and detached. First I thought, you are stressed at work but it continued unusually longer, I just couldn't understand the problem. Then one day, probably last Friday, I thought, that we shall meet, thinking it could make you happy and it did. I could see it in your eyes." Sashi, realizing that his efforts to put on the mask of fatigue are gone in vain, relaxes himself. Sashi giving a smile to himself, asks her when she arrived and how she convinced her parents.

Pranathi pulling her brows closer, exclaims "Sashi, I already told you that I came here by 10.00AM and that I am staying with my friend Radhika, the nerdy of our class. Did you remember Radhika? the one who used to scare all the boys, even to look at her. Oh OK, OK! Not again. I know, it is probably, 74th time I am telling you about her. But Sashi, You are still not yourself. What happened to you? Are you angry with me for anything? Aren't you happy for my coming here? Tell me, what's bothering you. I don't mind even if you wouldn't share your happiness with me but in times like this, you should better share. I feel, I can do anything if only you give me a chance. I know, it is too much to say, but I sincerely feel that."

Pranathi takes a pause for few seconds and gets into a different topic not to overburden Sashi with her special feelings for him. She says, how she thought of lying to her dad that she has to attend an exam in B'lore . how she reasoned it to be not worth lying and gave up. and then how for the first time she went to her dad so boldly and asked him for his permission to visit her friends in B'lore. She says that her dad was apprehensive a bit (natural for a daughter's dad), but gave permission. Pranathi continues profoundly "You see, it is all because of you. The feeling of being in love with you gives me lots of happiness and confidence, and I don't find anything to worry about. Everything looks brilliant" She stops again checking herself, how she is getting back to expressing her feelings for him.

Suddenly silence falls upon and they don't know how to break it. It is dark in no time, and observing it, Pranathi stands up to take leave. Sashi insists her to have dinner with him and takes her to Forum. He drops her back at her friend's place after the casual dinner. They make a tryst for the next day @ ISKCON temple.

All the night, Pranathi thinks of everything that could possibly worry Sashi, but coudn't be sure of anything. Sashi, on his way back, calls up his parents to make sure that they don't knock his door next day like Pranathi did that day. and sleeps thinking how he shall give her the letter, whether to post it or to give her directly.

Next morning, Sashi and Pranathi meet at ISKCON temple, take the blessings of Krishna. They make some place for themselves to sit on the stairs. This time, determined Pranathi says "Sashi, I really don't know what is bothering you, I guess, it something serious, I also understand, you don't want to share it with me and I am OK with that. Shall I say something? (proceeds with his nod) No situation is good or bad to handle. No problem is difficult or easy to solve. It all depends on how you handle it, whether you accept and adopt or stand up and fight back or just run away. I just want to tell you to be happy with your decision, even if you feel like running away. I know it is easier said than done. I believe, we all know (almost) all the possible solutions for every problem we face, but often we favor our minds over hearts and vice versa in view of rationality. Excuse me for my lengthy lecture. But be happy always like my dear old Sashi" She hums that filmy song "mujhse naraz ho to ho jao. khudse lekin khafa khafa na raho.. mujhse tum door jao to jao, aap apne se judaa na raho.." and takes his right hand in her hands mimicking a pleading posture.

While loafing around the Brigade Road, Pranathi, pulls out a purple colored T-shirt which says "Avoid hangover, Stay drunk." from the bag she brought with her. She hands him this saying "I am fed up of taking. So this time I want to give you." Sashi unfolds the shirt and smiling at the quote keeps it to his chest as if asking her how he looks. From a near-by shop, Sashi takes a pashmina shawl that compliments her light apricot colored skirt. When he gives it to her, thinking "Perhaps, this is the last one", he thought, he just thought of it, but he actually said it aloud. Pranathi notices this with a thud in her heart.

A happy day passes like a minute. They find that they can't have lunch together as she needs to catch the kacheguda express. They reach the railway station on time. Pranathi settles herself in S1, 59 (she prefers upper berth) while Sashi brings her food and water.

Sashi after so much struggle gives her the letter and asks her to read once she reaches home. As the train starts moving with a whistle, Pranathi, wearing an expresssion of i'll-miss-you-like-hell in her eyes says "take care and be happy". Every time she parts with Sashi, she feels, she is being taken away from herself. Soon her face turns so miserable, as if she has more painful story than Sashi's. Her eyes have a request for him. A request, to be happy, to be like that old and happy Sashi. Her image, through that little rustic train window, gets stamped in his heart as he stands helplessly.

Publisher's Note: When Nashi sent me her story, I was surprised to see, what I thought in my mind. But in the end, I felt so sorry, that Sashi gave her the letter. I didn't expect it at all. I thought of making him tear it away for Pranathi's love. But now, as Nashi writes it, lets us go on, as this is the way, unexpected and unwanted things happen in real life. Thank you, Nashi.

The fame game

I had quite fun taunting my colleagues. Actually that wasn't my motif when I commented on that Fwd "No God, Know God". But as it went on, I felt interested and loved replying to comments. From this exchange of messages, I found out, there are people, who want to be included in the discussion, which is not of their understanding, for which, they don't have anything to contribute. They finally do it by saying, we must stop the discussion, otherwise it would lead to something intolerable. They stop it forcibly. Childish minds!

That was when I realised, that this group is yet another fools' paradise.

I fell in love for the fourth time.

Every time, I fall in love, it seems the last . I feel, I could never again love anybody like this. It starts out of nothing exquisite. First, I try being a ruthless examiner of his work. I try to criticize, but secretly admire. Then one day, this admiration comes to the level, I can't hold it inside.. I feel like giving a hug and then a peck on his cheek.

This time, it was with Dostoevsky. I am so excited to copy out an excerpt from his book, "Crime and Punishment". So read on, you may also fall in love.

He dreamt that the whole world was condemned to a terrible new strange plague that had come to Europe from the depths of Asia. All were to be destroyed except a very few chosen. Some new sorts of microbes were attacking the bodies of men, but these microbes were endowed with intelligence and will. Men attacked by them became at once mad and furious. But never had men considered themselves so intellectual and so completely in possession of the truth as these sufferers, never had they considered their decisions, their scientific conclusions, their moral convictions so infallible. Whole villages, whole towns and peoples went mad from the infection. All were excited and did not understand one another. Each thought that he alone had the truth and was wretched looking at the others, beat himself on the breast, wept, and wrung his hands. They did not know how to judge and could not agree what to consider evil and what good; they did not know whom to blame, whom to justify. Men killed each other in a sort of senseless spite. They gathered together in armies against one another, but even on the march the armies would begin attacking each other, the ranks would be broken and the soldiers would fall on each other, stabbing and cutting, biting and devouring each other. The alarm bell was ringing all day long in the towns; men rushed together, but why they were summoned and who was summoning them no one knew. The most ordinary trades were abandoned, because everyone proposed his own ideas, his own improvements, and they could not agree. The land too was abandoned. Men met in groups, agreed on something, swore to keep together, but at once began on something quite different from what they had proposed. They accused one another, fought and killed each other. There were conflagrations and famine. All men and all things were involved in destruction. The plague spread and moved further and further. Only a few men could be saved in the whole world. They were a pure chosen people, destined to found a new race and a new life, to renew and purify the earth, but no one had seen these men, no one had heard their words and their voices.

No matter, No title-2

We are friends again! But as I decided, I will behave myself, and try not to get into any more ordeals.

No matter, No title

Finally I learnt this lesson. I learnt why I shall not depend emotionally on friends, why I shall not take anyone for granted, and why I shall not take everything so easy. I should have listened to them, may be that would have lessen my pain today.

Why couldn’t I notice you, when all else did? Why didn’t you give me any clue? No, you must have given them. I only might have got blind to see it clear. You gave me the first hint, when you told me “how disgusting I am”, and the second one, when you asked me “Is it so?” for the most obvious, and may be more, and I could have failed to notice.

I think, I was just waiting to listen to the last of all. Now, It was over for whatever the reason. So please get out of my life forever, I didn’t know It was this easy to say this. By the way, I should certainly appreciate your shrewdness, for you managed to maintain a friendly relation with me this long. Now, I feel like spitting on your face. I don’t care if tomorrow is a great day for you. You spoiled my today.

May be I would become friends with you again, but this pain will remain, this post will remain to remind me how scheming you are and how stupid I am.

Swirled up in Total Perspective Vortex

Temporarily I enacted Marvin's role.

One evening, I had gone into this pensive mood, thinking about the meaning of life and all. After so much thinking and breaking up heads, I lost the purpose of living. What difference could I make to this world? I am such a nonentity. I lost the enjoyment of life. I felt, I lived for so many years and this is the time, I should take leave. Suddenly, I got this strong urge to erase myself.

I thought 'Oh no! What am I thinking? I shall call someone to get out of this depression.' I called up Bhavani, but couldn't tell her the problem. Who doesn't have problems? Is it OK, if I call them for pouring out my own problems? No, No, I shall not. I should take care of myself. I tried to care myself. Had a talk with uncle about general matters. Watched TV, Read for sometime. Nothing made me feel better. May be I should call my guru? I called him up hesitantly and told him about a common friend's birthday. I got to know he was yet to have his dinner. So I was backed.

Next day was also gloomy, though it wasn't as bad as the day before. That evening, I got a call from a friend, and there was no stopping me, I talked as if I'm badly in need of someone to talk with. Though I was complaining about the depression, I started feeling better. I hung up almost after 40 minutes. That was a rare thing I do. My life also must have had the purpose which is though unclear now, will be revealed by time. May be I would call somebody, just in time they need someone to listen to?

Suggestsome title -4

Vexed with himself, Sashi reproaches his parents and Pranathi all the time, to make them not to think of his own unfair actions. He comes to a point when he can no longer proceed with this ordeal. He decides to get lost from everybody's life. As he isn't courageous enough to commit suicide, he wants to run away from home and his commitments. He resigns to his job . Just a day before the planned day to disappear from all known people, he sits on his bed with a note book. He writes a letter to his father.

Nanna,
I am leaving. You had been my best friend all the time which is a rare thing for a man. But how can you change so quickly just for a girl is with me. Aren't you selfish to ask me not to love the one I love and love someone you bring? Am I not a free man? I know, these are all unnecessary questions to be asked now. You may think I am ungrateful sort. Yes I am. You made me so. You don't need to worry, as I'm neither going to die nor going to marry her. Though both the options seem better, your son is so lame to opt for them. I'll go far from you and her, hoping I'll never run into any of you for I cannot forgive you and I cannot answer her.
Sashi

Sashi, after writing this note, reads it four times to notice something is missing. Searching for the missing thing, he proceeds to his second letter. i.e for Pranathi.

Pranathi,
I'll not call you 'jaan' anymore. Actually I'll not call you at all. I hope, this would be my last communication to you. I am leaving for some unknown place. I am sick and tired to find fault with you and to get rid off you. But I didn't find one. Everyday, you seem to be better and I feel myself uglier. So I give up. I have only one way. A face to face confession. I am so unworthy of you. I cannot marry you for reasons I can't ignore. I could even go without giving you this note, but I want you to know that I too knew what a cruel thing I am going to do.
Sashi.

Sashi reads this also four times. He starts imagining how they would feel after he goes away. May be mother would faint as they show it in the movies. Father would be in rage to kill me off. How about Pranathi? Will she forgive me? Does she tear this note and resolve to forget me or would she keep it under her pillow and keeps crying? Sashi takes a nap with similar thoughts running in his brain.

That evening, Sashi burns his Sim card and packs up all his luggage. He thinks of the final question which he didn't think of till now. Where am I to go? What am I to do? How does it make difference? OK I will take the bus whichever comes first. I'll decide about the work later. He takes the note book in which he has written letters for the two people he loved. While he keeps them in envelopes, the door bell rings along with the shouting of the boy downstairs, He opens the door for the boy.

Author's note: When I read my posts again, I saw Nicholos and Sonya of War and Peace here. Though I like Natasha very much, I respect Sonya for her kind are rare to find. I wish she wins in this story even being submissive.