Posted in The Lady

The Lady-3: The Search

The night she pinged him, she was emotionally broke. She felt alone in the city. The society looked unfamiliar and he, somehow, appeared the only one. They decided to meet on a Saturday. And next day after coming back from school, and picking up her toddler from the day-care, she interviewed some of the women for babysitting the child. A babysitter who can handle her kid for few hours on Saturday. A colleague of her from the school, arranged all of them. All looked weirdos to her. Consequently, she rejected. On Friday evening, a girl came to her apartment and showed her zeal to babysit. Although, she hated her younger brother, yet she was ironically willing to take care of her new sister. She was skeptical, but was not able to keep energy to seek more candidates. She took a cab and reached central park where he was waiting for her. His disinterest was palpable and doesn’t inquired much about her. He was lost and wondered, what brought him here in the first place?

She reached home, and the girl was missing with her kid nowhere to be seen. She called her, the number was unreachable. She lived in the same society but Meera was unable to recall the apartment number. “What I did?” – she criticized herself. She sat on the sofa for a while and recollected all the pain and miseries from the past, backtracking everything to the day she met her husband. She again looked doped, with eyes fixed on the wall. Thoughts were revolving very fast in her mind, that made her dizzy. She was taken a back. The sporadic behaviour, the reactive and desperate attitude she held were to be blamed for all the mess, she concluded. She called him, he came where he left her a while ago. She was standing nearby, talking to people about the girl, if they knew her. It seemed, nobody was aware or she was not eloquent enough to clarify. She rushed towards him, as soon as she saw him. Somehow, she thought, the things will improve on his arrival.

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Posted in The Lady

The Lady-2: Second Chance

“When two people are in love, they defy logic. Logical beings cannot get into a relationship, is so true. We both too, were irrational, when binded in an institution that, we believed, will last longer and run forever. Things were smooth for sometime, but then reality struck, and he found the life repetitive. He found me boring, my body in particular. Is marriage a spiritual bond or a gratification of lust call? If it was latter, he was not alone but I was too, a partner in crime. The bond never strengthened but broke ultimately. Infidelity perpetrated slowly. And in no time, he went away” – she said thoughtfully and took a long pause, lying on the green grass ground in the Central Park, looking completely doped. Passers-by, mostly elderly were staring at her as they were taking a slow stroll around the park. Simr found himself sitting beside her on the green grass and was feeling embarrassed. Being a avid listener, he was understanding every word she said, but the glares from the people were disturbing his sound hearing. He didn’t dare to look at her face, as she was filled with multiple emotions. “Here I am”, she continued, “lonely, broke, divorced”, her voice turning into a sob. He was clueless, “What can I possibly say to her”? He thought hard. “Where is your baby”? – he blabbered with a handful of concern. Sob turned into a loud cry.  Another reality struck like a lightening. “And I am a single mother” – she cried uncontrollably. “Thanks for reminding her that”- he muttered to himself.

Being from a emotionless family, it was hard for him to console this grieving woman. The queen-like stature, she showed in the previous meeting was no where. And now he was dealing with a crying baby, who would not stop even if he was to lure her with a candy. He wanted to run away, but stayed. He stood, and grabbed her hand, tried to straighten her up. But she won’t budge. He felt weaker, and after putting all is strength, he rather fell beside her. She started laughing, and with that fiasco, he was also not able to keep himself from a grin smile. The elderly became more uncomfortable then, looks like time to move out of the park. He dropped her outside the building apartment in the evening and bid goodbye. She unlocked her apartment door with the duplicate key. In couple of moments, she was awestruck. The baby wasn’t there.

Posted in The Lady

The Lady-1: Second Meet Up

Standing outside the metro station, a sudden tap on his shoulder bamboozeled him. Turnaround time was so reactive and awkward that he scared the provocateur. The woman was fair and was carrying a baby. He tried to recollect his senses and the past altogether to make a meaning out of this face in front of him, but felt helpless. She realized the cue in his mind and introduced her. “We met on the night bus long back”, she announced. That was enough for him to get back into the game of which he was a mere spectator, until she unleashed this single statement. He helped her with her baby that night, when situation was going out of control. Also shared some conversation along the journey of 6 hours. Reaching early morning, he took a moral responsibilty and obligation to accompany her to Greater Kailash, where she stayed. He didn’t get into her apartment, but left hurriedly. He got into his work too much, that never got a time to look back into the incident. And here she was, same figure, carrying her baby and frightening the town. “I saw you in the train itself, but was not sure if it is you” – she continued. She wanted to thank him for that day, which she didn’t get time to say as he was in hurry.

“Want to grab a coffee, there is a very nice place here, that I know” – she said boldly, in sheer dominance over the quietness of his. She had audacity to remain unaware of his plans. The baby was unexpectedly calm, and was playing with her mother’s hair as she talked with this stranger. He was not doing anything but smiling like a retard, the voice was hampered with the shock he was trying to recover. Finally finding his voice, he gave his consent to the proposal. The place was really nice and the quality of the environment got enriched with her queen-like presence. Her sophistication satisfied him completely and her ways melted his heart. But the mindset were different on either side of the table. It didn’t work based on the varied principles and philosophy. They bid goodbye and he thought never to meet her or contact her.

Simr, went off to do his chores and while retiring to his bed that night, gave a last thought about her. The sound of the message received notification on his phone, disturbed his thought process. It was her.

Posted in City Chronicles

The Yellow Umbrella

The audacious figure walks out of the gym and  to survive the mighty sunlight, open up her yellow umbrella. The vibrant color shows the true nature of her. She is reactive, anxious, a late bloomer, damsel in distress that makes her lively and draws attention of the people around her everytime, being it in the workplace or outside. She traces her steps to the green trail back to office and settles on her seat. Being early, she take some time to look through the big window pane, besides her cubicle, to see the beautiful lush green campus outside. People come pouring in, after sometime. The twists and turns are part of her life and constantly she is put over the shaken earth. She tolerate and manages somehow, but somedays it burst out. However, she enjoys the lunchtime and the quick chai tea lattes with her friends. The serious worker attitude disappears, when the friends sorround her. She accompanies her umbrella, the vibrant one, for every plan that forces her to move out of the building, being it, the food court or just an unaimed stroll. The sun, she fears can harm her skin. The evening tea is the last break of the work day. And at 9, most of the days, she is ready to start to home with the colleague.

The weather changes sharply, the mighty sun is set, but moon is nowhere. Clouds enshourd it. Rain starts pouring and she is standing near her home, under a small concrete shed. The reason is the discussion, she is having with the colleague, she came from office with. The rain is not ready to stop, as their discussion grows and deepens. At last, she passes her umbrella to him, as he lives two blocks away. They bid goodbyes, the yellow umbrella, the vibrant one, is seeable from far where she stands. And it disappears gradually. She moves back to her home, calls it a day. The yellow umbrella is seen again, next day during the lunchtime, held by that audacious figure.

Posted in Philosopher Friend

Our destination

People, in their open roof cars, indulged in the epicurean life are going from point A to B. Here we are, cutting our way in the middle and reaching point C. The journey starting from the market, where you are handling your business, all the way through, taking the same road as other idiots are, and pretending to be heading towards Mussoorie, the hill queen, we are betraying this point B. The love towards point C is in the fact that we philosophers are unleashing our desires, our urges. The longing to talk it all out, the pain, the things felt and experienced in a materialistic society, of which we are sadly a part of. The miscarriage of justice, the loop holes in the intentions of the majority, the irresponsible power play, is what we ponder upon. We take the burden of it all, and talk quietly among the travellers of point B, momentarily halting their pomp and show at point C, unlike us, for whom this point is the destination and the point of travelling back to the source after we are blank and empty. The macaroni and tea is what gives us company. The little drizzle tries to cool down our moral temper and yes it does. The greenery looked down from this point, disapproves the negativity we have seen, but we are the custodian of it all. The positivity prevails here, and it rejects our cases but we like a warrior but at the same time a weak vulnerability, sits and talk it all.

Under the radar we talk, we talk about the ill and the evils, the devils who eat us bit by bit daily and will one day engulf us in their colors. The colors that we reject openly and thus face the wrath. The wrath of immorality, stupidity, mediocracy, low brahman, ignorance and many of the diseases inflicting them all. After the discussion, we start back down in the opposite direction, facing them face to face. Looking at their ignorance, we see meannglessness in our life and the thoughts of nothingness prevails. We face the force from opposition, as we move down. Move down from where we emerged. We, the two philosophers.

Posted in Life

The new city

The old city is far behind. But not the few whom I left. The place is empty and shall remain like that forever, is the bitter truth. Those are irreplaceable, is what I have known after four weeks of coming here, here in the new city. Still coming closer to the native is a sign, a sign of relief to meet the family more often. The new city bridges that gap, the gap which was there earlier to the native city. The new city offers promises and tells that it will take care of me like the older one did. It shows me the warmth with humidity that was absent in the older one. The warmth is overwhelming. I have asked it to become little cool like the old city. And looks like, the things are cooling down. Which is a good sign and removes one of the many complains. The use of auto rickshaw is too much that those drivers know me. Also after charging me highly, they justify it all through the way of source to destination. I can’t retaliate but agree.

The eyes seek pattern to match it with the old one. The mind try to match the places with the old one, but fails, which is reasonable. Life is on extremes, it never balances is what I have learnt all through this transition. This transition has come up with its own set of lessons. The stability, the comfort which was acquired in the old city with respect to friendships and professional expertise are on stake here, as the things will be worked out from scratch. The experience gained earlier will help in the onward journey is the only hope keeping me together in one piece under this huge pressure of proving myself once again. Hope things work out well.

Posted in Past

The lunch

The beautiful long hair of yours cannot be matched with anyone. First time meeting you in the food court, through a friend was a delight. Munching lunch alone, that day took me off guard after having a very brief meet up. I chased you after that and indeed caught you just when you were about to enter your office building. The discussion was gratifying while having the ingredient of being a introductory one. The interactions happened as the days passed. The chats, the talks gave a sign of satisfaction and a feeling of finding the perfect match. The attraction grew like a vine plant. The world was contented with a hope. A hope of meeting you, conversing with you the things sorrounding us. Sometime looked you from far in the premises with your friends. Your hair looked out of this world, setting you apart in the crowd. Those moments are worth cherishing.

You are far away, like a distant star. Your worth is ever increasing with the passing days. The last time you met, had teary eyes. A tiny girl with a big volume of black gold looked like a fairy tale. A tale of surpassing beauty, of love, of innocense. Nothing can match those hair as I said. Those long hair is what I see and feel. Is what I see and feel.

Posted in Past

Bangalore Days

The day I stepped my foot here in Bangalore (IT City), was not aware that will spend 3+ years, that too 2500 km away from my native. The plan was to get a transfer to New Delhi that stands 250 km away from home sweet home. But the fate had different plans. Came for tranining after getting selected in a MNC. And then got a project here itself. The initial days were a struggle with everything – new city, new culture, work, new people. Being an introvert, had less friends. The friend who was there in training, went to different project after completion. The time spent like that, meeting people, getting befriended and then losing them to either their relocation to other companies or other projects. Met different types of people some made a special place in my life and some taught me a lesson. The work was in the epicentre of my life. It only gave various opportunities in different aspects of life – being it new technologies, new work and meeting new faces.

Thus life here gave exposure to the previousely untouched milestones. And many things were achieved like – confidence, knowing my capabilities, friendships, appreciations, defeats, loss, win, etc. The self discovery on this new path, gave rise to better understanding of self.  Finally while going away of it, the emotions are overwhelming, the nostalgia is in the air. The few friends that I have earned, parting away from them, undoubtedly is a torn apart feeling. But this is life. Nothing is permanent, I feel, is how to summarise it better. Will surely miss the weather, the beautiful sky, the greenery, the places and finally those few valuable friends.

Good luck to the humans of Bangalore and to the city.

Posted in Life

New friend in a bus

New in the city for the purpose of graduation, was the only thing he was striving for. And while going to college in a dreadful blue line bus, that day met with a little change in his life. A girl approached him. She was a known face of the newly established class, where most of the students were still strangers. She introduced herself and sat with him. As usual, things still felt normal to him owing to his philosophy of not getting impressed by people so quickly. A guy who never had a female friend took things lightly even when the other males of the tribe (class) were more shocked than him about this new event. Wrong rumors got air and thus both got into a false relationship as distributed by the gossip mongers as intended. It is hard to be talking to a girl it seems in a so called modern world, he thought. The class looked more interested in their affairs, and things proceeded with no twists or tragedy as might be imagined by the class masses who looked filmsy.

The things eventually lost attention, when the girl later came up with her real boyfriend from senior class. Still, the guy who looked not fallen into the line of rumors, could recall the time spent with her, during viva exam preparation or notes preparation. Also eating spring rolls one day on a little eatery at Phantom road that made him pay for the meal, could still induce a soothing effect on him. But he knows how to be in control. Such feelings can make him nostalgic but can’t overwhelm him. He moved ahead with life as usual. No love lost, no love found.

Posted in Life

The dark road.

“Excuse me? Can I walk with you?” – A sharp amplitude of voice struck his ears and he was bewildered for a moment. The face went blank, asking for more explanation from the naive beauty that was standing in front of him. The street he was walking in was named “Park Road”, was dark and quiet. The trees were looking big and scary and there was nothing on the road but two of them. From where she appeared was a mystery, as he was engaged so much in his loud thoughts that apparently were hitting his head furiously. The girl wanted to cross the fearful street, with someone’s aid. Somehow this guy was the only option, and looked trustworthy, the former had more weight on the reasoning than the latter. “Sure”, was his answer, without making any eye contact. He was worried about something deep hidden in his mind. Looked like, he heard a very bad news and continuously trying to recover from it but was drowning into it, fiercely. The girl felt more uncomfortable due to the silence of the living things, especially this man, who was looking straight to the end of the street where the darkness was ending. The longing to reach there was perpetually very much evident on both of their eyes. Only difference was, the girl’s eyes were bright and sharp but the guy had doubt about the hope of something good at the end.

“Why you are holding that mobile on your hand?”- the girl inquired as a sharp observant. He felt the shiver, identifying he was clinging on it like a monkey with a banana. With the slow whisper he uttered – “I am waiting for a call”. The call that will never come, the call that is dead, the call that went missing in the loud voices of his own mind palace. The thoughts anticipated and were hopeful so much, that he has an intuition that it will come, but never came. The walk ended on the cross road of dark and the bright street. But his hopes never brighten up. The wait was long, the call was pending. He went on the left of it, leaving the girl on the crossroad with many questions and shock. He never said goodbye as the word has lost its meaning over the years.