Life, a Bitter and Sweet Symphony

My Mother

2011-12-30T00:53:00.000-08:00

In her times, she was a spangling beauty.
Her bridal snap would put to shame the beauty of Princess Diana.
Her heavy locks of hair & her brows, black just as a moon less night.
Once youth sat on her face, as morning dew sits on a grass leaf,
Which is now a dying star, flickering and blackening.
Her perkiness is lost in her struggles and duties,
In her years dedicated to her home, her partner & her kids.

The effortless activities from the grocer to the kitchen,
From garments shop to the book store, all in one day,
Never wearied her out.
Now sometimes, even her breathing is labored.
Her same hands are now crinkled & her face old,
O! Alas! It’s old and tired,
The reflexes on her forehead are now permanent flakes,
And not the result of a frown or a sulk.
The grey of her hair now shines in the sun,
And I hurriedly cover them up, with a jet black dye.
Because they scream to me, and sometimes even smirk,
“She is getting old, oh so old”
“She is tired, oh so tired”
“She is turning a child, oh a small little child”
“She is nearing her genesis, oh the genesis of her soul”

Beyond the Ruin

2011-11-24T23:06:00.001-08:00

When all the pages read lie;
And a faded handwriting, "I will always be there with you!" blurs its origin,
I flip some books and wander few desks,
Where stories of life are never aimlessly authored.

When all the musical rhythms,
Sound cacophonic & transform into silence,
I pick myself up and meander into the wilderness,
Where music enters into me, and then never leaves.

I lift myself up,
From the deep of the sea where I'm forced to drown,
My heart’s devotion,
And become a refugee to rummage that piece of land,
Which isn’t a dwelling of people just one or two,
But ageless towns & villages,
That for devotion, devotion give.
That for love, love bestow,
And fulfil promises they vow.

When you are Gone

2011-11-14T01:58:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, when you are gone, your smell and smile reside with me, and turn into a bubble that doesn’t burst for days.

Sometimes, when you are gone, Spring suddenly turns into Autumn and every green memory falls red.

Sometimes, when you are gone, all the happy days get lost & meaningless, just like a horse runs in the meadows.

Sometimes, when you are gone, the green of the earth, and the blue of the sky, become hazy.

Sometimes, when you are gone, your touch lingers in me, my hands take your form and doodle your name reflexively.

Sometimes, when you are gone, the fetish of my passion that was, haunts me in my dreams.

Sometimes, when you are gone, the courage veils too, the courage that I need, the one that I should become, and the one that should catch me.

Fragrance of Her Being

2011-09-11T23:36:00.001-07:00

Under the hazy sky that smelled blue,

Her wet lips smelled my breath so new,

I came closer and smelled her love,

And both our breath shed just one fragrance.

My eyes and her shadows,

Then lingered into an invisible red,

The red was so fresh, and smelled…just red.

But now all that fragrance is lost,

For she is not in love any more

And for my nose, oh, it has fallen on the floor!

Home Arrest

2011-09-07T06:42:00.000-07:00

12:00 PM. She was leaning on the wall. The desire to kiss the clouds and touch the dew was overriding in her breast. What was once an adrenaline rush in her translated into a stagnant sea that now never moves. Only the ripples could be seen and heard.

She oscillates in the room full of anxiety. Her only fear is that Ananya would wake up from the sleep and open her broad eyes to meet the cages. Her heart comes to her throat and the tiny lit eyes are now broken in thousand different pieces. The reverie busted. Some parts fell on the ground while she managed to hold some in her devastated eyes.

“I can’t let my daughter be home arrest…” her heart whispered. She ran towards the bedroom to find Ananya woken up to the slumber.

“Mummm..mumma”, Ananya coiled her lips. The words touched her heart like a feather touches our cheeks on a newly bloomed spring evening. But like a heartless mother, she forced her to sleep again. “With similar “mm-mmm” sounds, Ananya coiled her boat-like body and floated in Kasthi’s arms.

Kasthi's days were big. Her nights were bigger.

Just when the gentle rays of the sun slided through the window panes and embraced both of them, Kasthi once again swept her feet in fear. She never wanted to show sun to her moon. Ananya was her ‘chand’. Quite, far and lonesome. This is the reason she has never read “Twinkle twinkle little star” and “Ba Ba Black sheep” to her daughter. She did not want her expectant eyes to question her. Ever.

The brawny sun could not wake up Ananya. Kasthi again won today. Her moon was sleeping. While she hasn’t slept since ages.

“Kasthi”, a quivering voice shuddered with dominance, “Rekha has come. Give her your list. She will get it from the grocery.”

“Coming maa”, she managed to utter.

“Stay there! Can’t you see the window pane is up? Your baba is coming. I don’t want another ruckus like last week”- she almost roared.

“Mumm—mmy” Ananya’s words drummed in Kasthi’s ears. She gathered her bones together and dared to ask: “Maa, can I…go out to…the grocery today…with Ayanya?” Her arms started to shiver and stomach flinched.

“Don’t bring another shame to your baba for krishna’s sake! One is already sleeping in the room inside.”

The water in her body melted. Her lips faltered but closed soon after it opens. The thin water streaks on her cheeks exposed the heart that sinks a moment and floats the next instant. “Please maa, I’ll be back soon…Before Baba leaves for work. Ananya needs some air.” She held her mother’s saree.

The silver of her mother’s hair has bred a palpable heart inside. The stiffness of her arced body and hardness of her words seldom lets it come out. Her mother was silent and loose. Kasthi took the cue and ran inside. She picked up Ananya in her arms and ran towards the door. Joyous glee. Just as she stretched her dupatta to her neck, ready to embrace the world, her mother re-appeared, “Go back to your room Kasthi quick, ammu kakki has come. Go back, quick. She might inquire, so just be in your room. And take this child with you and lull her to sleep.”

12:30 P.M. Kasthi’s small steps moved inside her room. Ananya still smiled in her sleep.

Pearl Necklace for Maa Durga

2011-08-16T23:58:00.000-07:00

O my Holy Mother,
I want to gift You a pearl necklace,
That which is entwined with my saline water,
And also wish You to wear it on Your breast.
Regardless I know that this entire universe-
The breezes, rains and seas,
Bestow picturesque ornaments on Your Holy Self.
Just as Stars offer You the anklets
Made from their light that transcends on Your feet,
Sliding through the kaleidoscopic doors of heaven.
And just as the Moon casts is radiance
On Your beatific face, figuring into studs on Your ears.
I want to gift You still,
A pearl necklace,
That which is entwined with my saline water.
On tenterhooks that when I bring this necklace to You,
You would reward me with Your Grace,
And melt the pearl necklace,
That just beamed gloriously and survived a 2-minute life,
After you garlanded it on to your breast.

A Mediocre Mind with Mediocre Thoughts

2011-07-18T02:06:00.000-07:00

And she does not crave for fancy dresses,

Nor for the outdoor trips on Maldives.

Visa and credit cards she never fancy in her wallet,

‘coz to her, money lies in familial bliss-

The intricate, woven, familial bliss.

And adventure in togetherness,

Not separated by ‘my personal boundaries’.

And she doesn’t welcome the ‘space and freedom’,

That widens, widens and widens…

…and drifts away the emotional streaks.

And while people start enjoying that space,

They forget that it has become a Frankenstein’s Monster.

And she did not crave for a fantastic career,

Nor even that gives her a chance overseas,

Such bonus and promotions are bane and folly, she opines-

When a husband sleeps away from her wife,

And a daughter plays with her Barbie doll alone,

And a son rides his cycle without his dad’s help.

And she doesn’t enjoy drinking at parties,

Neither neat, nor bottle nor pint.

The love, closeness and expressions–

That’s what she likes to drink.

No wonder, people call her a mediocre!

She is a mediocre girl, with mediocre thoughts.

Office Office

2011-07-05T00:17:00.000-07:00

As I enter the boundaries of my office, and see people at their desks, I wonder.

What is it? Some flat faces, some heavy expressions- somewhere it is an enlightened world of laughter, while the next neighbor carries a world of anxiety with him. Few love stories that go along with work, fleeting eye contacts and that momentary bliss!

What is it? Greeted with smiles and eyes delighting, on the other side of the table is back-biting and spiting. Why are we often misinterpreted, and that which should to be told, is often dreaded? Conspiracies fly from desk to desk, and emotions are buried in drawers and chests.

What is it? Some bright looks, some down moods; some opportunities, some threats, we talk about money, ledgers and debts…Why emotions make no sense, why sentiments lie on other side of the fence? Talking Enthusiasts win over hearts, and the Quiets keep thinking, “How do I begin, How to start?”

What is it? Sharing meals at lunch table and eating from their plates, with people we just had a debate. Laughing with those who grin at us; greeting those in the staircase, whose follies we never embrace. The bosses whom we so much revere, they never realize it’s a calculated veneer.

As I enter the boundaries of my office, I think, what is it, but another Man Made World?

Your Smell of Tea

2011-06-30T04:08:00.000-07:00

Sitting by my bedside,
And watching the TV channel, you often sight,
I thought of you.

My eyes were filled,
And my throat needed something to soothe the lump.
I went to the kitchen and took out the mug,
And while I prepared the tea,
I remembered thee.

Just as I was to take the first sip,
I remembered how you used to do it-
A dash of crushed saunf powder in the end
You loved the aroma, it does extend.

After the tea, I shed a tear or two,
Because it just smelled like you!
Oh! Why did you bid us adieu?

Reason?

2011-06-30T02:36:00.000-07:00

Tired and exhausted,
Of angry faces and frowned foreheads.
Our throats and tears dried up,
He abruptly stopped while trying to speak something...
Drained out of energy, we look in opposite directions,

Then I raised my leaning head,
And asked him, “Why are we fighting? Do you remember?”
“Not exactly”- he murmured, “Do You?”

Sound of Her Soul

2011-06-30T00:25:00.000-07:00

Yes, it was a loud bang! She rushed through the long corridors to shut the doors, the windows and draw the curtains. She shut her ears tightly with her hands, and smashed all links with the outer world. But the sound kept increasing, and she struggled to stop it.

It was the sound of her own desires, her wishes and dreams, the most important reason for her existence...the sound of her soul!

A New Life

2011-06-17T03:03:00.000-07:00

Now that I’m coming your way
Leaving the home my parents gave,
To live in the castles we made in the air,
And be yours and make our life so fair.
So tell me, would I not be afraid,
For the sake of our love that should not fade?

And that’s the reason for all emotional divide,
I wanna hold you, till the fear in me subsides.

The decision that would change my life,
How do I tell you the reason behind,
Would you remember or would you not,

The way you say that with me of all-
‘Everything seems fine when you are there
And I think of you whole night and day?’

And that’s the reason for this emotional divide,
I wanna hold you, till the fear in me subsides.

Darling it isn’t so easy for me,

Or ever for a girl that is to be,

Someone’s bride and leave everything behind,
Without any fear lurking in her mind.

So tell me how do I brush aside,
The feelings that have been gripping my mind?
Just say that you will love me ever the same,
With all the care, passion and flame.
So that when I wear my bridal dress,
I know my dreams would be addressed.

And that’s the reason for this emotional divide,

I wanna hold you, till the fear in me subsides.

The Dream I Saw Last Night

2011-06-02T04:03:00.000-07:00

You would say, all dreams are subtle and elusive! Still there are few that are vivid in our mind’s eye as we wake up, and evoke strong images from a world that is on the other side of the horizon.

I crossed that horizon and saw a fragment of that world last night- A new world…very fresh and mystical. It reminds me of Samuel Coleridge’s poem Kubla Khan where a sacred river ran through measureless caverns and many other images curl up in his dreams.

In mine, neither the sun beamed, nor did the moon casts its rays. It was a grey sky, dull, deep and mystical. Cold breeze was blowing with a magical comfort, and entangled all my hair over my mouth- a ruffled me, walking barefoot in an unruffled garden. It was a weedy pathway with harsh grass, 5-7 inches long. My feet were wet. Everything was damp. Seems this place has witnessed endless rain and storm that has just stopped. I could see water drops still falling from everything- the leaves, trees and flower petals.

I inched closer to the garden with small steps, somewhat aware of the impending occult experiences. I stood in the middle of the garden- with smoky air, water droplets falling from the hazy sky.

Just then I behold a long, very long, staircase in spiral form that leads to the sky. It casted a unique and mesmerizing spell on me. It looked haunted, enticing and mystique at the same time. I remember clearly, there was something charismatic about that staircase and I continued looking at them. It was huge both in length and breadth- and went straight up in the grey sky. They were curved- and crooked in an unusual style. I was spellbound with its vastness and fell on my knees in a state of revere, when suddenly all the voices of the nature stopped– that of the air, water droplets, waving trees and falling leaves. As if someone has muted the heavenly music abruptly. This diverted my attention from the staircase and put me in a state of SHOCK.

I immediately stood up- frightened, as if I have done a fatal crime by sitting on the ground. And just as I pushed myself up, I could hear the sound of air once again, the rolling of the trees and everything else. In an unusual excitement, I carefully sat on the floor once again and deep silence crept in. I stood up once more and my ears could hear the music again. Sit, music stopped; stand, music on. I did this for a couple of times until I assured that it was me who could start or stop the music- “it was me”.

A flabbergasted me, with wide eyes and wide mouth grew more stunned when a large mirror like maze captured my attention- It is the 3rd phenomenon of my dream and the most intriguing one. Something like a 3D mirror, an electronic gadget – and had a powerful gleam. It was the only bright object in the garden- everything else was a shade of grey.

My feet dragged me closer to the mirror. It was an inexplicable experience looking at the mirror, but I felt that I experienced divinity. It seemed as if the mirror was smiling at me and saying, ‘Relax, everything will be fine’.

I asked, “What mirror is this?” There wasn’t anybody near me, and yet I questioned somebody. Was it an angel guide? I have no clue, but yes, it answered- “It is a special mirror. You can dive into it by touching it. It has the answers for you- some advice that will help you.”

I smiled, the mirror smiled and I stepped ahead to touch it. I once again lifted my head to look at the curved staircase, and then proceeded to dive into the mirror. I touched the shiny mirror and went straight into it. It was an abstract place, perhaps a holy cave, with lots of lights, not bright ones that would dazzle the eyes, but soft light that soothes the soul.

I shrieked, “I…I want the advice…that can help me”.

I looked around and heard a floating voice - “There is no ill-will against you, you are good to go.”

I was delighted to hear the answers - though I wonder if it makes any sense! I moved out of the mirror, satisfied, as though I have been enlightened, as though I have become new.

Just as I step my feet out with radiance on my face, cheeks red with happiness, and gleaming eyes, some 20 feet away precisely at the other corner of this holy mirror, I behold another mirror which puts me in a spell. It is black, devilish and monster-looking. It was yelling and scared me to death. I didn’t want to enter the mirror but something pulled me with my hair, dragged me by my head and took me in. Just when I was crying with fear and wanting to move out, a sly voice yelled, “You can’t be saved, damn there’s so much ill-will against you!”

The next moment I was out of the devil mirror, I can’t recall how I managed to come out. Perspired.

I can relate little to this. The aura of the dream, the gripping and heart-rending atmosphere, the staircase that leads to the sky… or was it heaven? Or hell?

The Holy mirror

Then the Devilish mirror.

And the replies- “You have no ill-will”, “Damn, there is so much ill-will”.

We visualize so much in dreams, most of them have no connections to reality- but some just stay with and poke you to think, re-think and seek… I can’t understand what. This was one such dream.

If it makes some sense to you, even some fragments of it, it can be a beacon for me and I can tread forward…deeper.

The Transformation

2011-05-09T23:20:00.000-07:00

She soon turned from coal to gold with the touch of her prince, and her life became a fairytale. He ran into her life to pull her out of the woes, to transit the vibrant energy in her, and to realize her that she can shine and outshine.

His love was a catalyst for polarized, intensely emotional reaction that was missing in her till then. She spent the time of her life with him, in an apparent world, which was just the opposite of her virtual life.

She now dared to dream, and more yet, dared to make them true! She defied all the social norms, the maze of ‘principles’ which were filled in her since childhood, and which she choicelessly accepted as one of the essentialities of living…and in the process, very naively, forgot to live. She defied all this and learned to lie, hide and cover up things- this is her newly-learned-wisdom. Just like another Alice has slipped through the glass door and found a new world that she has always been dreaming of.

She opened her eyes, widened them and experienced love that brimmed and brimmed from her prince. She began to enjoy every bit of this state of newness, like a bird who enjoys fluttering its feathers when it learns to fly.

But whenever she laughed, the world smirked; she stepped ahead, and the world smirked even more. Undeterred, she thought it was time to unveil her transformed self to the world- to show them that she has dared to love, dared to dream, dared to live and has that gleam! It is time to inform the spiteful world, that no amount of rebukes can stop her to attain the prime state of bliss – the bliss of togetherness with her prince.

She smiled once again and his prince smiled with her.

2 years passed and she continued with her love, she and her prince wished each other every morning with the warm sun rays, every noon when the sun was warm enough, every evening that did bring the shade, and every night that came with the promise of a new morning the next day. But *Blink*, was her prince really there, or was he a dream that just lasted for years? She was least aware that her fairytale is like a card house, which will crumble with just one cruel windy wave. And as her cruel fate danced, the cold wave slapped her with utmost severity when she was to just one step away from the sunshine. That one slap was the harshest one of her life, and she fall down…numb. She now knows, that it takes a lot of courage, to show your dreams to the world; and once again, the world has strangulated her dreams.

I'm the Sea

2011-02-17T22:47:00.000-08:00

I'm the sea, moving freely, without knowing where to dance.
Me and my thoughts, sailing far away.

I'm close to the shore, I am deep in the rocks.
And then you ask me, "Why don't I sway?"

I'm the sea, I have forget my roots,
Like warm water drops, I touch your toes.

I am shreded in the day by the warm sun,
And filled with the chill, when you sound still.

I'm the sea, gentle rays glide and fly, while I dive in the oceans of the sky.
I meet the horizons, and still feel distanced, I keep quiet in my grave, but roar in turbulence.

I'm the sea, I cannot drown, though whenever I cry, my heart goes down.

If You will Forget Me…

2010-11-26T11:06:00.000-08:00

When I touch,
the dew drops on my window,
And when I feel,
the cold breezes of air that splash into me;
When I see a twinkle in a child’s eye,
And when I take a relaxed sigh,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
the seasons, smiles and stories,
is a reflection of you in me.
And IF the evils of space and distance,
puts me out of your mind,
and if you WILL forget me,
leaving me on the shore,
to walk alone, and bear the thunder waves,
to see the sunrise and sunset alone,
on that day and that very hour,
I will lift my arms,
and set myself free,
to seek another land.
And that shall be the renaissance of a loveless soul-
If you will forget me…
If you will forget me…

Finding God

2010-07-13T05:22:00.000-07:00

I have traveled through the city,
Halfway and through;
Praised the music, liked a places few.
I enjoyed the weather, hated it too,
Relived certain memories, cursed one or two.
I did search for peace, searched for love,
I searched for God, but it was tough.
He hides, and I seek,
He whispers and I shriek;
He goes and I follow,
He smiles when I’m hollow;
He runs and I chase,
As if an eternal race…
I have NEVER got his way, neither yester nor today!
So let’s do one thing now, I know not how true,
You be my God for me, And I will be for you…

When I Lost My Grandmaa

2010-01-31T07:50:00.000-08:00

2 years ago, she meant a lot to me. Today, after 2 years that she is not with us, she means a lot more.

April 2007
My passion to study is the driving force of my life. The Numero Uno position I gained in the 1st year of my college has made me greedy for marks. I studied harder in 2nd year and heartlessly in the 3rd.

28th April 2007
My grandmaa is calling me several times from her hospital bed, asking me to visit her. She is calling all of us, all her sons, daughters, daughter-in-laws, son-in-laws and grandchildren- she was an attention seeker. She liked it when she was surrounded by her family, we all knew it.

I'm burying myself in books and promising her to see her after my exams. She is also insisting to visit Akshardham Temple, no one takes her she is complaining. I'm promising to take her on a wheel chair.

But poetry of Keats and Eliot are more important to me. More than her phone calls pleading me to see her in the hospital, to spend some time with her. Everyone in the family is with her- talking to her, touching her, and she is smiling.

29th April Afternoon
She is calling me to gossip about the doctor who is not diagnosing her properly, and the nurse who hits the injection in her skin. I can not infer that these are my last words with her. I'm laughing with her, wishing her speedy recovery, reading Keats, preparing notes, reading Eliot, preparing notes, reading all the books- all of them, completely unaware of the impending loss that would tear me to pieces.

29th April Afternoon, Evening, Night, Midnight
I'm studying voraciously the whole day, the whole night. 5A.M., I'm dozing off- slept. Restless sleep, forcing me to wake up with a bad dream. Bad Omen. All of us- our family- sitting in rounds- sad- mournful- eating with hands- white curd- white clothes. I sense the loss. This is a wake-up call for my conscious- But I'm adamant to study- final year exams are more important to me. Heck. My mummy catches up my distress and reveals dadi maa’s worsening condition. She is undergoing an open heart surgery, I just learnt.

I'm still studying, alone, alienated in my room, all throughout the day- no one is at home- I'm absorbed in books, feeling happy with my exams preparations- "I'll top again!" 9:00 P.M., my brother is coming to my room- informs me that the dead body is here.

Sounds of ambulance, my parents crying, my chacha crying, all of them crying in chorus, in sync. Swollen eyes, hoarse throats and silent chokes are making me numb. My father is opining that I should not appear for the exam tomorrow. But I choose to go.

30th April Morning
My dadimaa is lying on a brick of ice, closed eyes, blue face, heavy body. I see her- the antim darshan- and could not control hiding my face in the wall. I'm guilty. The ground underneath my feet started eating me up. Bit by bit. I fell on knees. Guilty of not seeing her when she really wanted. What’s the point now?

I'm arranging my roll number, picking up my bag, going to college. My dead dadimaa is at my home, everyone is mourning her sudden death, and I'm in college, giving my final year exam.

30th April Afternoon
I returned home, things seems normal. No one is asking me about my exam. It only matters to me. My chacha is still weeping, my bua is numb, everybody is teary-eyed, arranging for the rituals.

I could not attend the cremation.
I could not get a chance to cry.

I want to weep till my voice chokes, till my eyes swell, till my body shivers. I go up to the attic- close the doors- crying. Crying as I have never cried before.

But this does not lessen my guilt...of not paying her a visit to the hospital, for not taking her to the Akshardham, for not taking her for a metro ride. "I even have a metro card", she used to say.

2007-20011
She is not yet dead in me, barely because I could not see her going- could not bid her goodbye, could not hug her, kiss her, hang on her legs when her body was taken away- the reason she is still alive in me.

Compromise

2009-11-05T01:17:00.000-08:00

When I say I like waking up early,
I’m not a morning person,
I compromise.

When I say I’m uncomfortable in up-length dresses,
I have no Indian woman as an idol,
I compromise.

When I say I love being at job,
I do not enjoy the pen and paper,
I compromise.

When I say I’m not tired working for long,
I do not mean to flaunt my strength,
I compromise.

When I say I hate marrying at 23,
I do not love my independence,
I compromise.

When I say I’m happy with my life,
I do not experience any special joy,
I compromise.

The Quiet Has No Place

2009-06-03T22:42:00.000-07:00

This is the world of fun, laughter and gaiety. If you don't joke, don't laugh with others, at others, the world will ignore you to the extent of negating your presence.

So whether or not you are a reserved person, for being included in "the group of maximum", you have to talk, dress, walk and speak with them in the way they want. You will have to "be" them- this is my recent observation of a way of living.

But I still remain the same- quiet, reserved, not-so-social with people whom I'm not close to. I don't disclose my secrets to them because I don't want to...I don't talk much with them because I don't find it comfortable- life is to express and not to impress others. So if according to my recent observation, the quiet has no place, I'm happy in my no-man's-land.

Traveling to Office

2009-05-29T03:00:00.000-07:00

I feel that I don’t travel to my job, I travel as a part of my job! Can you feel the difference?

My aunt, who is the Branch manager of a reputed Bank in Vasant Kunj, recently said, "If traveling to your job gives you discomfort, your job is not good." She travels a long distance to her Bank, and thus could relate to my pain when I told her, "I get so tired going and coming back from office!"

My new office in Janakpuri has everything so good about it, except that it is not reached easily. Please read my Travel Chronology:

I step out from my Home Sweet Home and take a rickshaw to the bus-stop. From there I take an over-dover super-duper healthy wealthy over-crowded bus to Moti Nagar Metro Station. (This route bus is always so jam-packed that passengers haplessly exchange each other’s CO2…smell their bad odor …my light blue colored pants are almost shaded with tinch of brown and lack with shoe dust…howsoever neat I comb my hair on leaving, my pony leaves it place and goes sometimes to left, sometimes to right…my kajal makes an ugly looking black color on other person’s shirts, et all!) Then it irks even more to wait for the driver to start the bus, when you know that you have a long way to travel!

And eventually, I leave the bus to board the Metro till Janakpuri West, (this is a relief!) and then one more bus! This is how I tiredly reach my office, then sit at my computer and hit the keyboard whole day long. The result is that I have lost weight, got dull complexion and boorish hair. Hope there were an easy route to my office! Near to 4 hours journey daily is leaving me exhausted at the EOD.
I get to see many people everyday…the restless IT employees, excited college-goers, boisterous school kids, tired and poor laborers, anxious vendors, indifferent people, caring humanity, old looking uncles and aunts whose faces reflect life’s dreariness, et all. They depict the bitter and sweet symphonies of life…they depict existence.

Sometimes in Life...

2009-04-11T08:09:00.001-07:00

Sometimes I feel low, Sometimes I feel high.
Sometimes the happiness is truth, and sometimes it is a lie.

Sometimes I feel loved, sometimes I'm alone,
Sometimes who hurts is a stranger, and sometimes it is a known.

Sometimes the people are cheerful; sometimes the world is chaos,
Sometimes they do care, and sometimes they lay-off.

Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it gets Okay,
Sometimes I hide, and sometimes I convey.

Sometimes I feel high, sometimes I feel low,
These 'Sometimes' have passed, just a moment ago...

“Trying to forget”

2009-03-21T12:58:00.000-07:00

How often does it happen to me that I try to forget, and end up more recalling it. It gives me jitters to think that I have to "forget it". I try my best to forget. One minute I'm successful, the other minute I fail. This game of success and failure has made me fragile…sensitive…self-conscious.

Time passed, my attempts to forget continued (continues). Things changed, and I was happy to anticipate that my circumstances and mental illness would be washed away by the passage of time. But the more the things changed, the more I didn't.

It has been a long journey...from 'trying to forget' to 'trying to forget'.

Sunday Depression

2009-03-07T12:30:00.000-08:00

Friday is so bright, spreads cheer and smiles,
I go home smiling wide, and plan the weekend’s aisle.

Two days off from work, seems a heavenly bliss,
No computer and emails, no ‘yes sir’, no deadlines miss!

The sleep that day is peaceful, I see gardens in my dreams,
And Saturday I enjoy, almost in my jeans.

Go out, party, eat the snacks, and meet all my peers,
‘Coz soon the day would get over, and Monday would come near.

Saturday night my sleep is disturbed, I see horrible nightmares,
My system crashes, boss thrashes, and says, “How you dare!”

Sunday morning I get wacky, stare clock all the time,
My voice gets almost choked, and I start talking in mime.

Evening gives me shivers, Oh its Monday coming again!
All that work and emails, just make me go insane!

Why comes Monday, why do we go to work?
No more fun and music, and just work like a clerk?

Monday morning gives me blues, I moan in the dawn,
Say ‘Good Morning’ to colleagues, though my mouth yawns!

Beyond The Earth...

2009-01-20T09:11:00.000-08:00

It's a story of two souls, knitted in love,
Together they formed a life, higher and above.
One winter morning, while singing love songs,
They renounced worldly pleasures, and became love monks.

And there wasn't anyone around, only she and only him,
They hugged each other, and the lights were dim.

Walking in the morning fog, they went beyond the sky,
Hands in hands, they bid the world good-bye.
So deep was the love, the passion so high,
They were beyond any pain, and could heard no cry.

And there wasn't anyone around, only she and only him,
They hugged each other, and the lights were dim.

Alone, aloof, united in love,
When they found a world, in the world above,
The Cupids danced, the Fairies smiled,
The sky glittered, and the world seemed bright.
Next moment they were in mountains, covered with clouds and snow,
Her gown slipped her shoulder each time the wind blow.

And there wasn't anyone around, only she and only him,
They hugged each other, and the lights were dim.

They are still in the blue sky, away from the man made laws,
Exchanging dreams under the moon, lying in a tranquil pose.
They look happy, the look beautiful, yes they are in love,
They are soaked in showers, which are the blessings from above.

And there isn't anyone around, only she and only him,
They are hugging each other, and the lights are dim...

Just a thought...

2008-12-18T20:21:00.000-08:00

Never before so vehemently I wished I had wings. Wings that would take me to the place unknown...the utopian territory with no one around...only my thoughts, feelings and ideas dancing in mirth, and compelling the atmosphere to make a mark of their identity...
The thought of experiencing that place, time and space is so exhilarating, that I sprang up from my chair, and try to do the act of flying (as if I were a fairy!), and in no time I wanna reach that arcadian, where things, atleast for a moment, are exactly the way I want them!
That, precisely, would be the best time to be alive!

Salman Khan: A Magnetic Appeal

2008-10-23T21:37:00.001-07:00

Believe it or not, the best thing about Salman Khan is that he is Salman Khan! You like him or not, you tend to talk about him, read about him and listen to him. Incongrous people, after doing this may say, "What a crap"! But actually they were all ears to him.

My cousin has some inexplicable just-like-that feeling of irritability towards Salman Khan (there are many people that work, behave, and act according to their first atomic thought about people/ situations/ things. Their minds receive impressions which remain intact always. I think my cousin falls in this bracket). She says that somehow she just cannot stand Salman Khan. And LOL, what happened- When Dus Ka Dum trailors came on air, I saw her reading his articles in newspapers, and watching "dum da-dum-da-dum" title song, everytime it came on Sony Entertainment television! On being caught, she said plainly, "What a wacka-cracken"!

Now whatever reasons one may cite, for reasons good or 'according-to-me-bad' types, Salman Khan has that X factor which mesmerizes many of us. Just look at the deadly combo- magnetic appeal, and a heart of gold! Three cheers for metallic Salman.

Dus Ka Dum Game Show

2008-10-23T21:34:00.000-07:00

No More Crorepati or Paanchvi Paas, Dus Ka Dum- Real Show Of The Real Superstar.
Dus Ka Dum isn’t just another game show. It has split the atom- Courtesy: Salman Khan. This man is the pulse of the show, which is apparent by watching every single episode of the show. He has a tremendous fan following, from the shy and meek to candid and extrovert, youngsters or oldies- many go bonkers on catching a sight of him. Here are few differences that make Dus Ka Dum stand apart from the likes of Kaun Banega Lakhpati, Crorepati, Arabpati, and Are You smarter than a so-and-so Standard.

A. While game shows of the past were more outwardly money oriented, with the host showing off the cheque book in between the telecast, signing lavishly, and handing it over to the contestants, Dus Ka Dum is based more on the pattern of fun, gaiety, love, and affection. No formal show offs!

B. Recent games shows, hosted by some so-called Kings of Bollywood, harps more on your intellect and mental power. While in Dus Ka Dum, you just have to flaunt your wisdom. Intellect is the accumulation of facts, and Wisdom is the direct result of experience of an individual. Dus Ka Dum deals with realism, not naturalism.

C. To participate in other shows, you have to be prepared. A lot of home-work, and brain storming is involved. "May be they ask a question from this chapter! Or that subject! Lemme give it a quick look!" You might also have to gulp an energy drink to say in confidence, "This is the secret of my energy!" And with Dus Ka Dum, you can wear your heart on your sleeves and go in full tune!

D. All of us need a support in our happy, not-so-happy, and constant times. Dus Ka Dum pattern allows its contestant help at every question. It eases a great portion of tension (if any) from the contestant’s mind. For other game shows, I only remember that either they put a big cross on your Lifeline, indicating, NO MORE HELP NOW! Or the host says "You can cheat from a kid’s notebook." A good source of humiliation for few, eh! In DKD, you have a good margined window- khidki as they call it. Then there is your partner to help you, and the ever-so-supporting Janta, who is allowed to scream to their fullest, and help each and every contestant. What else can one ask for?

E. I wonder if a pappu who is difficult-with-studies or a 12th pass person, or a 18-year-old kid can answer "the largest gland in the human body" or "the chemical reaction of alpha and beta" with any dexterity. Yes a Phd., MA, MBA might! Now look at the Dus Ka Dum format- Be it an MBA, Engineer, Doctor, Lawyer, or a Sweeper, Coal Miner or Housewife, anyone can guess, to some accuracy if not full, about the number of Indians who are afraid of a dentist! Clearly, Dus Ka Dum has a wider scope. It encompasses both the masses, and the classes.

As for the USP of DKD host, no words suffice. Watch the show, and find it for yourself. Dus Ka Dum- Mere Saath Nahi Khel, To Kya Khela!

Auditions Of Dus Ka Dum

2008-10-23T21:33:00.000-07:00

Salman Khan’s Dus Ka Dum Auditions- Ab India sochega percent mein!
I was around 20% too late from the scheduled time to reach at Dus Ka Dum auditions. I was 80-90% nervous, 100% excited, and 60-70% fearful. But needless to say, I was enjoying 100%! I walked in panache, heartily smiling all the way, as if a Princess has landed on earth, with a veil of happiness, robe of joy, and a magic stick that would do things right.
In the long queue, I developed friendship with Gauri, a sweet talkative girl from Ghaziabad. We had an elaborated chat about Salman Khan. After a little chaos outside, we managed to go in. The management was too good to be told in percent. All the participants were given special VIP treatment. We were provided sumptuous meals, and people were all praise for Salman Khan.
Oops! I forgot to carry my snap! But thanks to Sony- they had arranged for the Photostat, and a Photographer for people like me. I posed in the most fashionable style when the photographer told me, “A normal pose would do ma’am.” Eh, there I realized I have to control the adrenaline rush a little.

Gauri and me became so nice a friend to each other that our talks became more candid. She started sharing some embarrassing moments of some audition she gave lately. I also opened up some of my silly moments to her. Wink wink! :) We entered he hall, ate 2 samosas each, sipped elaichi tea, and were ready with our documents and I-cards. Then there were guyz from Synergy Adlabs, who escorted us to our respective halls. Luckily, me and Gauri shared the same hall. We filled our book like forms, with little assistance from the modestly helping guys. Then came Siddharth, and gave tips for auditions. I blushed every time he mentioned Salman Khan. My eyes blinked, and heart did pit-a-pat, on the thought of meeting him. While others were preparing a rocking introduction of themselves, I was dreaming of Dus Ka Dum sets- how I would react on meeting Salman, what would I say, will my voice choke or would I scream loudly?! Should I carry something as a token of my respect for him? Or no gift can express my feelings? What would I wear that day? First I decided of wearing Jeans and T. But then I zeroed in on Salwar Kameez. I would epitomize Indian beauty! Then I saw my not-so-beautiful face in the mirror, and thought, I must buy a lovely dress to compensate my looks. When Gauri sreamed “Good luck Vibha” from the other end, I came back to senses. Once again I was in an air conditioned hall, at The Russian Cultural Center, Feroz Shah Road.

We were then sent inside the respective chambers, and were asked to wait. I was all ears to the types of questions been asked. When the manager announced my name, I smiled so large, that my lips went to my ears. My heart in my throat, I went in. I waved a hello to people sitting there. I was asked to introduce myself, and something from inside me said, ”Hi, I’m Salman Khan's fan.” Gosh! Now that was pretty obvious friends. That is why I was there! I realized I had messed up, and to cover it up, I took help from Salman’s photograph that I took with me. I showed it on the camera, and narrated the whole story of how I got it- my precious little gift. They asked me, “How many Indian females would like to be born as a male in their next birth?” Now that didn’t come to me as a shocker. I said plainly, “The number can’t be much. There may be some crazy who would wish that. It may be around 10-20%.” The two judges smiled at my transparency. Then came the bouncer, ”How many men would like to marry a girl who knows cooking?” “Umm..”I said, “70-80%” without much speculation. When this was not enough, they told me to sing a song…Song people!! Me, song?? Yes, why not? Anything for Salman Khan!! I sang, “mere rang mein rangne wali”, in my ever so pathetic voice, and came out smiling. They were happy with my, eh, performance. The girl who was busy writing the marks on paper assured me of getting a call soon. I was on cloud nine… :) And I still am! So what if I’m not selected. Perhaps someone else needed money, and God gave him the chance instead! The best way to stay happy: “If you have cried today, always think that the smile you deserved has been given by God to someone else who really needed it.” Sometimes its excellent to assume things. Three cheers to Salman Khan! :)
http://vibha-auditionsofduskadum.blogspot.com/

A Memoir of Agra Trip- To Asha...With Love!

2008-10-23T21:32:00.000-07:00

Our journey began with alarm bells, messages beeps and ringtones- different types of wake up calls for sleepy SeFians! The excitement was so huge that even the lazy like me didn't snooze my alarm, and woke up at the first sound. In the entire period of 1 hour- that me, and almost all of us must have got for getting ourselves ready, my cellphone recorded 20 incoming and outgoing calls. All, just to ensure that we are ready, and on time.

Two buses were hired to collect people from all corners of Delhi and Delhi-NCR (We SeFians hog the city!) Mine was the second pick-up point, along with Rahul sir and Bhawna bhabhi. I waited at Inderlok Metro Station, when quiet Ashish came up in the bus. I waved a ba-bye to my bro (thanks to him for dropping me there at 5 in the morning!) and stepped inside ASHA. Aha! Asha comes as a refreshing, hopeful name. That's our mini bus’s name that was actually very mini for us 15 SeFians. Me and Rahul sir looked each other in an unusual kind of bewilderment. We exchanged looks and gave two opinions, both one after the another. First- "No no no...it must be just a pick up bus, and would drop us at a decided point, where a bigger bus must be waiting." And second- "Ma'm didn't tell us that the SeFian lot would go in 2 different buses?" Deep inside, we knew, Charu ma'm is not very much into giving surprises. We grabbed the...eh...most comfortable seats of Asha, and sat with our mouths wide open. One after the other, all of us were in bus, with exactly the same bewilderment that me and Rahul sir had on our faces few moments ago. Equally disappointed with the look, comfortability, space, and speed of Asha, Charu ma'm asked us if we should take a prompt action, and change the bus on the highway. Hands rose in agreement and disagreement. After considering the pros and cons of the opinion that laid in front of us, and as respectful of each other's opinions we SeFians are, the final decision happened. We were not leaving Asha, in the asha (hope) that atleast the driver would better the speed. He gave a verbal promise for this as well.

So, we were not leaving Asha- at least not till the day dawns! We had tastiest sandwitches which Megha’s dad made on her special request, then some chips, then some soft drinks, and then some chocolates. The first SeFians trip as it was, we decided to make it memorable. Ideas poured in for various activities. While some suggested to play dumb charades, others came up with a we*** idea of playing hide and seek. (LOLz! I guess Asha was too small for even rats to have a party) It was agreed that there is no more interesting and engaging game than Antakshari! And when we creative lot begin singing, dear friends, the world realize that Bollywood has given us endless songs to hum, scream, and enjoy. The Antakshari episode continued till some two hours...and only stopped when Nature's call made us stop the bus. To be honest, this first stoppage of our Agra trip gave us a dual relief. First- nature's call as I told you, and second- the relief to stretching our bodies, after sitting in the stiff Asha for continuous 3 hours! And well then, who can forget that meethi lassi ka glass, mistaken identity of White Vultures, and the photo session we had there!

Time to step in the bus again. Enough of singing, and humming...we decided to wait till our singers and music directors produce some more good music. While everyone was on the verge of dozing off (lassi shows its effects), Nachiketa opened his Nachipedia and screamed he had a Tom and Jerry DVD! No sooner our smile went to our ears, we realized that we are in Ashaa! DVD player in Asha?- NO! But Yes! They had it! See, its not as bad as you think guyz. All of us loved it when Jerry gave Tom a run for his life, and how Jerry had the final blow. But sometimes, even the funniest of things can not stop your eyelids to meet. Many of us took a nap. This was, comparatively the quietest period of our trip, although, everytime the driver applied the brakes, Asha produced a sound that reminded us of some snake charmer, forcing his snake to wake up, else he’ll cry!

We were nearing one of the best Seven Wonders of the World. While Mandeep rained his deodrant bottle on him, Vrinda combed her hair, Mohita corrected her muffler, and I redid my kajal, the signs were clear that we have almost reached. We steeped down and realized that the sun was right above our heads. Must say, Asha was better in this context. Our hunger pangs were increasing, so we discovered a shaded place, and unpacked our food items. How can a foodie like me forget the yummy taste of paranthas brought by Arpita, Noodles by Santosh, and what not! Then we did five things for the next 1 hour. We ate, we ate, we ate, we ate, and we burped. Other related things, we could control, as now it was the time for some horse riding. That was real fun. Our cart man was as filmi as he was old. He quoted some famous dhanno dialouges, and tickled our funny bones. He was too good! Now we were on the entry gates of Taj Mahal, and the photo session began again. Well this time it was Taj Mahal on our capture. We were enthralled by the splendid beauty. We chatted, discussed few things that went into the making of Taj Mahal, we roamed around, rested, and praised the skilled craftsmen who had put their souls and hearts together in making Taj Mahal one of the rarest monuments. No voting, or prefernces might have been necessary in making Taj Mahal one of the seven wonders of the world. It is, and will remain one of its kind! Now time to kiss a goodbye to this ever beautiful graveyard. The group was tired, and scorching heat was making it even more difficult. In this, a bottle of chilled frooti, and ice candies did wonders! We were re-energized, and enjoyed our horse ride again. Ma’m had not taken too nuch of noodles, and it was damn hot as well. Then why did she prefered to take a walk, I wonder!

Well, well, Asha was our fate for the day. We all stepped in, and exchanged our seats with each other, hoping that it would give us some relief. (Weird thought I know. Sometimes we all become Tarun sir!)

The way back home was comparatively better than the morning one. No no, neither did Asha’s driver pitied on us and installed an Air Conditioner, nor did they strech the bus from two sides to make it more accomodating. But the driver played my dear Salman Khan’s movie! Yippie, we watched Mujhse Shaadi Karogi! I tell you, Salman looks so cool in that movie na! Fine taste that "I’ll-run-the-bus-on-30km-only" driver had! I applauded, and watched the movie till other SeFians complained of a headache, and paused the movie. (Pheww...I’ll see them for this!!!) It was then decided to give our trip a religious touch, and we headed towards Krishna Janam Bhoomi. With prayers on our lips, pain in our heads, and rats battling in our stomach, we sighted the divine place. One prayer, that must have been there on everybody’s lips was of reaching homes on time. "Dear God, you are comfortably lying on your couch. Its already past 8. Please do something that triggers Asha to run fast!"

Then we had a lavish dinner. With a stomach full of food, and kheer on paying extra Rs.5/-, me and Vrinda really praised the cooks.

Asha again. We stepped in, and took whichever seat we could. Not a difference it makes. I tell you, that driver must have been learning how to drive a mini bus. Though Asha did not have a Learner’s sign on its dashboard, but then, the driver may have his own reasons for that! Probably he didn’t want to disfigure Asha's beauty by pasting a sticker on it. Or he probably didn’t want to let us know that he is still learning. Whatever, when I’ll open the detective agency of my own, I’ll figure it out- "VIBHA WILL FIND IT OUT DETECTIVE AGENCY- MISSION- ASHA".

We were in bus. No sooner we stepped in, something hit Vrinda’s feet. She screamed "Mouse", while Charu ma’m opined it must be a cat, and Mandeep froze me by speculating it as a lizard! So, Asha had mouse/ cat/ lizard as well! Me and Vrinda came back to our sense only when the bus moved, and we were assured that the rat/ cat/ lizard must have jumped off the window by now. We knew our journey was coming to rest. This was the last time, we SeFians were together on our first trip. We began singing to mark the occasion. This time, it was boys Vs. Girls. Well I would personally not call it singing. We didn’t sing, but roared. On the flip side, Charu ma'm was too tired even to hum.

Time kept flying, some fell asleep, some cracked jokes, some expressed worry on Asha's tortoise speed, and some even went as far as to click not-so-decent pics of Megha and Neha, and Vrinda and me. It was only after we saw them at Neha’s camera that we displayed fury.

It was past 12 A.M., we neared Delhi. One after the other, SeFians bade goodbye to each other. Those who were still in bus got numerous calls from their homes, asking when will they be back. And then, the worst part of Asha was when the driver declined to drop us at our respective points. Reason? Asha dear has no CNG to run. No CNG?? In the evening it drank the entire CNG petrol pump! We were half dead by then. Luckily we sighted a CNG petrol pump, and pampered Asha, not to throw any more tantrums, and drop us safely. I was the second last to get dropped. I bid Good Night..eh..Good Morning to Ashish, (the only SeFian left in Asha by then), and ran home (literally).

Our Agra trip comes to an end. After almost 24 hours of unlimited fun, we were at our homes, safely. Office trips are nothing new. People generally travel in luxury buses, trains and personal vehicles, but an Asha ride was something that few get the chance to take. Though it drank CNG 4 times that day, and had few mice as pets, we had enjoyed the Tom and Jerry show. We had actually enjoyed the cacophnic snake charmer bus-break sound. We had enjoyed the lovely answer by the driver, when we asked him to increase the speed, "yeah to iski maximum speed hai". I sighted Taj Mahal for the first time, and brought back home some unforgettable memories. Thanks Charu ma'm, for giving us some difficut to forget memories of our first office trip.

Celebrating Birth; Hesitating Death

2008-10-23T21:28:00.000-07:00

Congrats the couple, bless the child, distribute sweets, and sing heartily- all these are normal reactions on the birth of a baby. We celebrate the arrival of a new being on earth. And when a body dies, we mourn, we cry, we weep and get depressed. This too, is a genuine reaction for all. If these occurrences happen in our family circle, we are more emotional and intensified. And if it happens with friends and knowns, we express our happiness or grief, (whatever the occasion) and get back to our normal routine. But the point is, why do we always celebrate life, but are hesitant to talk of death? Aren’t both the natural phenomenon?

In a neighborhood, if a birth takes place on a lovely morning, we are happy, and heartily talk about the blessed family. But if a death occurs instead, we tend not to talk about it. Reason? It’s morning time- don’t talk much about dead things at the day’s beginning. Similarly, we may walk straight into the house to meet the new child. But when it comes to death, we don’t talk and enter our house's main premises untill we take a bath. Is Death so ominous and ill omen? Wasn’t it destined to happen? It’s natural to experience happiness and sadness at births and deaths respectively. But why do we ignore death- the more natural occurrence? Birth of a human being can still be controlled, to some degrees if not entirely. Contraceptive pills and the like are designed to pause the start of a fetus in a womb. We can postpone the birth by these pills and other means, for as long as we can- but we cannot hold the breath of a dying person for long. Birth is semi-natural. Death is fully natural. As natural as trees, mountains, and valleys. Considering death an ominous happening may be ominous in itself. We all would feel sad about a beloved soul passing away. But, respect the death and talk freely about it- anytime, anyday! It's auspicious.

The Beginning, Middle and End

2008-08-08T00:42:00.001-07:00

Generally, the set format of any story is the title of my blog. Then be it a reel story, or a real one. There is a beginning, middle, and then an end. But many-a-times, it is not in the same format.

To say it categorically, a beginning is something before which nothing comes., an end is something which is followed by nothing...and middle is the logical outcome of the beginning and potential cause of the end. But many times life can show us the end first, then the middle of the things, and in the end- the beginning. It may sound a paradox. But isn’t life the same? Think of one incident that had changed your life- for the good, bad or neutral. Was it the clichéd way?

When we think that life has treated us fairly, and we consider it a fortunate beginning, we realize it was the end! And the middle comes after the end. The middle part includes the discerning process, weighing the pros and cons of things, how it happened, and why. Analyzing all the "middle aspects" of things gradually brings confidence in yourself and your belief in God.

So instead of lamenting what happened, we should be glad that it happened. Because whatever happens, is for the best. Then be it clockwise, anticlockwise, or arbitrarily. The best way to stay happy:- "If you have cried today, always think that the smile you deserved has been given by God to someone else who really needed it".