Bidding adieu, yet not letting you go...

“You say goodbye, I say hello
You say why, I say I don’t know”

Because I’m not ready to let go…

Of the melodious memories here
As creativity, curiosity and conversations, sprang a new taste
Dipped in caffeine blending an illustrious layer
You became my happy place.

In the comfortable compass of the red bricks
A narrative like ride, I strived to chase
When juries went by needing a Chota fix
You became my solace.

Where love fluttered from the warm smiles and welcoming eyes
To cocoon around the walls of Ashoka, MiCafe, CR2 and Maclab lullabies
Or the colours of Culcomm magic and revisiting the old tennis flame
You became my grace.

When bonding unravelled from people to every inch of this place
A place that gave me my creative space
A space which felt like my own
MICA, you are the face I’ll always call home.

So don't say goodbye, because I'll still say hello.

If you were here...

The blazing rays of the sun, jolted her awake from the limbo she constructed around herself. He was really gone. A reel of images flipped before her eyes, as she stirred a cup of coffee. The strange alienation in her thoughts felt more bitter than caffeine and the walls around her grew closer. Wrapping herself into a cocoon, she screamed at the top of her voice, “why him?” Clenching her fingers around his picture, she searched for a sign that would somehow bring him back. The melancholic cupboard lay still with the essence of his belonging, hanging in a frame of those perfectly lined clothes. As she picked out that little diary that resonated his name, she glided through the pages over and over again, only to lose herself into a trance. Lucidly questioning that in some twisted game of fate, would she ever find the chance to bid him adieu?

Decoding Advertising

Advertising in its truest sense has transformed tremendously over generations. From creation of the cut paste formula to digitally visualising an entire campaign, the time lapse weaving the intricacies used in the past to the spontaneity of the present, makes one wonder how delicate the art of creation has been and how convenient the world has become now just to put forward a simple idea.

From the creative wing, account planning, brand planning to even client servicing, this field demands creativity at every nook and corner. The objective that culminates the entire structure together is how everything is geared towards getting some response from the audience and how each brand story should blend in perfectly in the weaves of the creator's story. Those 30 seconds define the attention span in which one can make or break a brand. The art of manipulation also roots in the fact of how beautifully one can create a brand just to bring back the respect lost of an old gun as thought through by Neel French with XO Beer, to re emphasise the importance of print advertising in newspapers.

On a negative front this can be perceived as a poison gas scenario, as spoken vocally by George Lois, but that is where your inert creativity is tested, when you know you can turn the odds and change mass perceptions, be it via tad bit of manipulation.

MICAp of creativity!

Questions, as vivid and ambiguous as they may seem, demand imagination. What if I told you there was a place which answered those twisted thoughts only to nurture curiosity which actually kills the cat? A place which transforms reality from what is it to what it could be?

Metaphorically imaginative child's aspiration is what MICA oozes the idea of. Every rat you chase, is one dream you make. Here, there is no correct path or logical route to the destination, but a "keeda" which pushes you to ask yourself if not here, then where would you rather be?

Europe diaries I

As she set afoot the narrow stairs of the bold journey ahead of her, she smiled with a cup of her favourite "Javachip" cold coffee that she grabbed just in time (rather five minutes late!), finally breathing a sigh of relief..."it's really happening, girl!" She thought of the smug lady she encountered at the Starbucks stall, who apparently reached after her, yet was greeted well by her in name of a good international trip ahead, only to be smudged in the face with an *I'm Indian, yet I'll throw some weird mixed British accent at you, showing you outrightly how low I can steep for that one cup of coffee, devoid of any sweet response or expression whatsoever!* But oh, well Nandini, let it go...she thought to herself, as she beamed with excitement and took large steps towards the flight, consciously stepping foot away from her homeland to another continent altogether...the land of her dreams, all made possible with endless endeavours at a job that marred her physically and mentally, but brought her to the capability of going forward with the idea of a self funded dream like trip to EUROPE.

Lucky for Nandini, the flight was not entirely full, getting her the last minute option to switch to a window seat (who would ever ditch that?!), the idea of scrumptious meals, good wine and obviously a good choice of movie. Yes, she had been guilty as charged for still not watching an amazing movie like Lunchbox, so she finally did. The time seemed to have flown by in a jiffy, except for the part when the plane was flying over Black Sea (or maybe thats what every hydrophobic person rambles about). As the plane finally descended towards the destination, tears of joy and happiness filled her eyes. She gulped down the emotions in her enthusiasm, as a moment like this needed to be felt and preserved in her eyes, lest anyone else debar the beautiful memory. Within the thin clouds emerged the gleaming grandeur of Vienna's architecture, as she pinched herself, "This is it! I'm here. This dream is real!". Lost in the enigma, she didn't realise when the plane landed, because for her it was only the beginning... :)

Who are we, really?

Sometimes I'm forced to wonder the nature I abide, the face I show to the world, the words I speak out loud and the thoughts I proclaim reflect my soul, are real or influenced by the magnetism that temporarily attracts me. 

Cool girl, a commonly used phrase, I think is a definition of an ideal girl, one we all strive to be and one that every guy tries to impress. But I wonder, if I'm anywhere close to that, why do I see the flip side girls having a much more fulfilling bond with the others? Not that I don't have what I wanted, I just feel a little let down when I tend to think how my attitude has shifted over time like a pendulum from one failed relationship to another, reflecting the kind of person that would literally chop off the wings of their freedom to one that forced them to flap their wings and fly away to fulfil their dreams. 

Nag nag nag. 

Is nagging somewhere acceptable, especially to someone who could almost cage you in a room embodied of his existence to shield you from any source that could snatch you away from him? If that's so not who I was, then why today when I hear about such hypocrisy I see a nagging soul engulfed in her idea of insecurities ruling his bubble world? 

If that was a bad example, let me go another page back when the pendulum was on another side. 

If being okay, was not okay but you wanted to look okay even when that other person used your carefree attitude to the wrong limits, a certain sense of insecurity that crept in seemed genuine, I suppose? 

If today I reflect back to these two opposite roles I played, I wonder how the play turned out to be. Clearly, these weren't a true picture of who I really am, or was it? Is it really possible to possess opposite traits within oneself, whatever disposition they might create? 

If it's true that life is a play and we are basically playing a different rule to suit our current whims and fancies, then it can be correctly said that we are the actors of our fate. But how can karma come into play, when we are well equipped to switch from one face to another, masking our innermost thoughts in the most beautiful way, to panoply a changed version of ourselves to the next victim of our twisted revelations. 

In this game we play, do you think we lose ourselves, unable to chalk out the path of destiny we embarked on and our notions of the real us? 

A mad man's world.

Darling, did someone warn you that it was a mad man's world? 

When you hopped around in that pretty little dress bubbling with ideas and gleaming at the thought of making it big one day, did you expect what's it going to be like? 

When you invited a bunch of frolicking lads you solemly swore to your protected little toy, were the true meaning of friendship, to join in over a game of tea party, or when you blew off the candle which exclaimed to be marked as "four", would one day itch in the name of competition on the other side of the door? 

When you turned you back, as everyone passed the box of parcel until the music hymned, 

Did it ever occur to you, how everyone shrugged it forward, just like responsibility as the time trimmed? 

When you saw your father all suited up, ready to face the bright sunny day, 

The smile hid the reality of people's intentions and dirty office ways,

Yet with age, you let yourself get engulfed  in this mad man's world so ugly, 

Diseased with the syndrome to make it big somehow, in what field you still haven't chalked out even roughly? 

Tiptoeing your way through today, you watch a zillion people cross your path , pushing, snatching or staring in oblivion, this mind races to the possibilities of an end or a new start

You murmur to yourself, in amaze and wonder, 

Will I just be another swan in the lot, choosing the wrong field and making a blunder? 

I hope you find the right direction soon which truly makes me happy, 

Because darling it's a mad man's world so snappy! 

Elicitation from the past.

Picturesque locations.

Heartfelt confessions.

Long pending apology, which never came.

When will I see you again?

In a moment I felt reckless, selfish, complete yet solitude.

In a second I was thrown into a trance, with my life turning into a platitude.

Thinking about you after all this time I see myself drowning into thoughts obstreperously.

Was I anything more than simple display of a few months of ostentatiously?

Will I ever see you again? 

Each present Polaroid of yours gleams in ecstasy 

Forget about the distance, you two glimmer like connoisseur of fantasy.

To that believe you me I appreciate you ironically. 

Meet me by the roadside, tell me how I don't matter.

Untangle my twisted theories, and memories that clatter.

Tell me how I'm a stranger and our paths collided by "mistake"

And from this nightmare I shall awake.. 

If we ever meet again. :) 

 

Drift or change?

An year, almost, a period of blandness, conflicting thoughts, varied opinions and an incomplete soul, on the look out for that strange bit of inspiration, to feel gnarl about writing. I keep coaxing myself to believe it's not a change, but a drift, from the limbo I created for myself back in the winter. But then the muse of escapism from reality surmounts, one which engulfs the brain into a pool of thoughts of what happened, what did not, of perceptions, expectations, success and failures.

Its ironical how in present, we invent a different future for ourselves, and a different past for others. 

However bleak the memory becomes, we never fail to glorify our clover and others erratum. What one remembers isn't what one has actually witnessed. Images blur, words become muddy and memories fade into oblivion. The grand things, become smaller, and eventually mask the scenario, which ones meant something. Sometimes, the version remains engraved, in hope of others mistakes to be taken note of, guilt to be subsided and apologies to be granted. Ofcourse, by you, not for you. What path does one take then? Pretence? Indifference? Blame? Or simple silence?

As she glided past the buildings, shops, jammed streets, the unknown yet familiar faces, she drowned herself into a strange state of nostalgia to a time when life felt complete running after the red lighted ice cream peddler, when the biggest worry seemed in defying elders to step out of the premises to walk secretively up till the temple, in the sense of experiencing freedom and when happiness held its meaning in the purest of form. How much had changed in these ten years, she wondered. All those empty roads which gave her a jitter to cross as dusk drew in, she wandered through aimlessly now amidst the crowd of people and endless conversations, in the vexation to return home from the hectic path she had chosen to embark her journey upon. The little crowded bazaar, which once glittered and gleamed in mystification, now proved to be an obstruction altogether. The place she remembered so dearly, held a denial in her practical mind, which either drifted or changed from those little whims and fancies of life.

She feared her life wouldn't turn out to be like that in literature, not much of a guessing game that she fancied it to be, or a mind boggling ride into over thinking and adventurous envisions. Rather, it seemed to become monotonous, with predicted set of rules and boundaries of expectations, from her and for her. She wanted to break free and drift into a path of desolate fabrications. The light which guided her home seemed hazy when she dared to think distinctively. Not that she was being bound in a cage by others, but herself. What feared her, she didn't seam to decipher. A thrill of emotions was missing as she raced her mind into the past, harbouring her version of pleasant scenarios. What made her shift thoughts between what was, what is, and what possibly could never be, so briskly,was something she couldn't comprehend.

What was that little piece of puzzle she was searching for, that little ray of light that could enliven her again, that little hope of completeness to complement the contentment she had reached in her life (or not?).

She began to realize that as time flew past, there was accumulation, responsibility and beyond that, great unrest.    

Conflicting thoughts.

Random encounters. Pretty smiles. Strange beautiful faces. New acquaintances. Change. 

Was Nandini ready to embrace it? She wondered, as she drowned herself in endless thoughts, fighting her alter ego of what meant right and what was out rightly wrong. She felt a spasm of hypocrisy building in her veins, of becoming everything that Aryan was, and what he did, or not? After all, the care she held for the world was too much to clasp, consuming every bit of her emotion, and putting together a selfish act was an idea too gruesome and unlikely to her in all regards.

Karan was everything she liked. A shoulder to support her conflicting thoughts, her bizarre emotions, a shield to protect her from pessimism, which she tried drifting towards now and again, and more than anything a good change. But, was he just all of that? When she first saw him, she felt a queer connection, and each word of conversation that flowed between them was as smooth as ice, unlike all the awkwardness and odds she experienced with people generally. Funny, charming, shy yet confident, extremely sweet, and someone she thought she should've met like 6 months later, but was glad anyway to have around, in whatever twisted sense of relation that they shared. These thoughts were suppressed by emotions of guilt, fear and chaos. It was too soon for her to let her thoughts wander in this direction. Was it just a phase, or she had begun to weave a new apologue with him altogether? He didn't just make her smile, but made her jump around in her bubbly attire, throwing away any signs of despair, forgetting for a few moments the dejection that Vishal had caused, making her stop believing in herself. After ages, she felt important and well, pretty. But was this feeling enough to let her mind lose? To consider the idea of believing again, and let the walls she built so high tremble by a few degree, or vanish altogether?

The place where he let his heart open, his mind straight and truth aloud, was a stinging scene of deja vu. What kind of a game was god playing with her? Testing her to make decisions in which regard? She didn't understand any of this. 

It had only been two months since things went from bad to worse for Nandini. She lost on confidence in herself, than anything or anyone else. The word "trust" sent jitters down her spine, and she camouflaged her feelings into a shell, so that no one could anymore see the real her. It wasn't like she wasn't happy, but there was certainly something missing. Missing reasons, missing people, missing times, and well missing out on knowing where she went so drastically wrong. He had moved on far ahead, maybe even started on the journey of love again, but why it still bothered her, she couldn't grasp. She wanted to feel indifferent, for when love was gone, did only hate deserve to take up its place? She kept waiting...for what, she couldn't decipher. She had given up on him, but had she really let go? She knew for a fact that he was never coming back, but did she even want him to? Every broken promise, made her lose faith in the idea of love and chances to another level. What had she achieved cutting her soul open to the one who crushed it into pieces, stomped his way forward, leaving her broken and faithless? Now and again he jolted her back into that melancholic trance, to remind her of the pain, just to contract the guilt that had taken seed in his heart.

Yes, all that he took her for was guilt. The cruelty of this fact crushed her. But what could she have done? Nothing could be done. He was gone.

In the midst of such venomous thoughts, did she deserve to hurt someone innocent? When she seemed so indecisive about what she wanted in life, could she really give Karan what he expected? All she knew was she could forget about the past, for those few moments she got to be with him. Like a forbidden fruit, and against the odds she decided not to succumb to, she felt herself drawn to him more and more by the ticking of the clock. What were these butterflies that rambled her stomach each time he looked at her, justify? Did these conflicting thoughts make her exactly what she hated, and what was once done to her? If not, then did Aryan really deserve the cold shoulder she gave him all this time? Or the hypocrisy made her forgive him after all these years?

Coming clean might be the soothing factor, where she wasn't messing up to that extent, however complicating her life to another level.

He told her to take a leap of faith, to let things flow...and that he was ready to wait. Selfish thoughts prompted her to make him stick to that stand, but was that a right thing to do?

She was not ready to take a chance so soon, to be judged, to get hurt, and most importantly to lose him and her belief in something good...

Or was she?

The road not taken.

Time. It has the power to heal, break, crush, revive, hope and change. It opens up the frontiers to choices of the path we'll lead, to make us what we should be and what we are. But the alternative we accept is an individual's decision, with no assistance from whomsoever. Sometimes going down the memory lane, we wish to have made some decisions differently, or made none at all. Contrary to belief, I think choices are easy to make, but memories are impossible to erase. Every choice comes with a consequence, which we realize in the least bits, but haunts our present like a parasite engulfing on each step already taken. It is rightly said that we must not live in our past, for its gone, and also not make speculations about the future, but try to keep our feet on the present and learn to accept it. However, I ask you, isn't every bit of you a reflection of your past? Would you have got here without making all those decisions that you did? What would it have been like had you changed your answer, or well, not answered at all?

Eight months, wow this is going incredibly well, too well actually, for all I expected, thought Nandini. She was happy, for having the perfect job, perfect home, and the perfect guy. What more would a girl just having stepped out in the real world want out of her normal routine life? It was as if everything was falling back in place. But still she had an intuition, that something was going terribly wrong. The problem was not able to find the problem, yet feeling so hollow inside. Like someone was picking out the pieces from her life's jigsaw puzzle, one by one with the ticking of clock. She wanted to snatch back all those moments, which were slipping out, no matter which side she turned to or which road she decided to take. Her priorities had deluged her into darkness of the degree, that she started falling behind the opacity of a wall, afraid to let anyone see the softness of her heart and her overpowering emotions. Anyone but him. He helped break through those stern pieces of bricks, and made her believe that he'll not leave. He pestered her mind with the thought that people will disappoint you, leave, and never turn back, but some will stay, no matter how difficult the road chosen gets, because they are destined to. For once in forever, she let go of her fears, showing her real self, not afraid of the consequences that awaited her, to twist it all into a ball of entangled difficulties, impossible to find a way out of.  

But why were all lessons that she implemented on him hopeless conclusions drawn out of failures from what she grasped out of bungles in clutching on to Aryan? Was life really this perfect, or was she just pretending of having understood every inch of pain she carried that buried her deeper in the ground with every step she took to embrace the feeling of letting go? She didn't understand her thoughts, emotions, or well, herself. How could she expect to drop the veil to another soul, when she couldn't decipher her own self. She knew she had let go of the past, but was she in a state of mind to handle this level of commitment, which was eventually turning into slow poison, capturing her will, mind and body to the insecurities and fears of his. Was it fair? She didn't give it a thought, and acted naive to just go with the flow. How terrible was the idea to act on your instincts for a change, than a chalked out careful plan? How unrealistic did the thought of acting her own age and seize things as they appear seem? Well, for once she implemented rationality and insanity in a perfect blend, which she thought would do wonders, and she was right. For how long, well, that was a different story. 

She realized she cared too much, and pretty much about every intrinsic detail in the world. This included the ones who mattered, the ones who didn't, and the ones that once did. But he had a different story to look forward to. The failures of his epic love with Anahita, brought him to a stand still, letting go in the belief of something that could really last. She impaired his thoughts, attitude and life altogether. His commitment towards Nandini was nothing but a step towards change from the painful memories of the past. How much he loved her, or if he loved her at all, was an answer he himself searched for. She was the astonishing female version of him, making him believe that this was right path to have taken, unaware of his detachment that would follow with every step he took on this new road. Unaware of the melancholy of hearts that would soon follow, they held on to the idea of each other, the grip of which started to abscond with every breathe taken. The pretence couldn't last forever, the cracks in the foundation were too severe, however beautiful the illusion seemed to be, it had to come to an "unexpected" halt. 

That is the thing about humans. Perceptions. The attitude which forces an individual to believe in the action and consequences of ones right and wrong. We fail to access the weight of the past realities that the other person is carrying, affecting their decisions, and in turn changing our stars. We are told to not judge a person on their defeats, but hang around to support them in future endeavours. But can we tell if this is all going to turn out in a fruitful exercise? How can we alter the course of our present, when it is determined by the vivacity of the counterpart? Does this person you put all your effort and thoughts into, consider you even remotely important enough to give away a pebble of thought or piece of heart, to make it last? Or is this just a selfish, cruel and harsh world, where you and I are just two bubbles, waiting to push the other one down and strive to go a little higher? If that's the case, why don't we realize that eventually the bubble will succumb to the pull of karma, and burst?

The multitudinous thoughts drowned her in a sea of pensive despair, as she tried to fight back and create a new bubble of hopes, expectations and realities to hold on to in the fate that she was creating, as she let him go... 

A wall.

Staring at the raindrops as they create a rhythmic melancholic sound, past the immediate crowds and fast moving surroundings, paying heed to the mellow entourage and staying in sync with tiny tear drops rolling down her flustered cheeks as she thinks endlessly and drowns herself into a cage of emotions. Everything seems right on the outside, but is like a deep hollow in her chest, and she feels, forcing herself to embrace herself over her triumphs and successes in the recent past. She keeps jolting herself to respond to one question, whether this is really what she wanted? 
Fake smiles, praises, and talks suffocates and unnerves her to break free or to break in, she doesn't know. She decides to break into a limbo, where she can close the doors to anyone who tries to intrigue her to let her guard down, to make her vulnerable, breakable and lost. A state of oblivion to everything, but one, herself. Where no word would make a difference, where all care would mean nothing but a bubble she wouldn't dare engulfing herself in. Maybe she isn't mend for what she's got, but will a couple of hands pulling her down into a black hole give her what she deserves? Do these hands deserve her attention, after every inch of handwork she's succumbed herself into, just to get lost in the pool of horrendous antagonism?

She's told that's how the world revolves. That's how we're all mend to be. Alone. Everything, everything is a competition. Whoever said winning wasn't everything...Never had a scalpel. 

But the question is, what after that? Has one ever thrown a light on what follows once you make yourself reach the top, stomping anything and everything that crosses your way, just like a soldier, crushing your "enemy" in cold blood. But is this enemy really what you'll name it? Or its a masked illusion, which you want to keep as your closest possession, only to destroy you completely with each passing second? Stitching her lips to bring a harbouring close to any words which might shut the small window of hope, she elopes into a world of taciturnity. Better remain mute than sabotage any signs of happiness and hope, which she deep down realizes is nothing but a fantasy. Its not that she can't speak, that her brain has become dormant, but its a forced will to not utter words which might pierce her own thoughts and awaken sorrow which might fall upon her for the crime of being diligent and a tad bit lucky? 

Maybe she needs to understand the perks of being a wallflower, and find joy in solitude, and create an aura of happiness in her own misery. She now knows that every single time she's tried to cut lose her thoughts, and spoken her heart out, all she's got is resentment and negativity. Pessimism defines her, and she proudly accepts that. Every steps towards optimism has been a blend with a backward push to relinquish positivity. Maybe we're not supposed to be happy. Maybe gratitude has nothing to do with joy. Appreciating small victories maybe does not exist in everybody's life dictionary. 

"Communication. It's the first thing we really learn in life. The funny thing is, once we grow up, learn our words and really start talking, the harder it becomes to know what to say. Or how to ask for what we really need."

Sometimes she feels she's too much on everyone. A burden. But she wonders, how do you know how much is too much? Too much too soon. Too much information. Too much fun. Too much love, or too much to ask of someone? When is it all just too much for us to bear?

Just like the thunder, she shudders to the thought of speaking out. That's she'll be squelched. Her expectations and perceptions will go in nothing but vain...And she'll shut herself to reality behind a wall so unbreakable and tough, that nothing in the world will let her fall, making her stall tall and strong to anything and everything that comes in her way...

Ishwar Allah tero naam, sabko sanmati de bhagwaan...

It is rightly said that the incarnation of man was brought about by a miraculous force, which the human mind entangled in tradition and norms believes to be a supernatural identity named “God”. After much of research and reasoning, intermingled with many coincidences and circumstances, the belief has grown stronger in an unquestionable power much above all of us, having sewed the increscent beads of the universe and life in one beautiful bond. Has anyone seen this triumphant power? The question remains unanswered.  “God has no religion”, said the father of the nation in jest of bringing an end to the social taboo of communalism and riots sprouting out of religious differences. However, the people, blinded by ulterior motives of a sect of dominating personalities are driven to develop non tolerance or even hatred for one another’s religion. Dirty politics can explicitly harm a society and destroy it in the name of religion. The question which arises here is whether these religions themselves support such an idea of divide? Quoting from Quran, it is said, “I am only a mortal like you, it is revealed to me that your god is only one god, therefore follow the right way to him and ask his forgiveness…” Similarly, Guru Nanak’s preaching states, “God is one, but he has innumerable forms.” With such direct wordings of God in his different names, having been said and piled in the memoirs of history, where do the interpretations go so drastically awry, stirring the masses towards the idea of violence?

One god who’s religion would remain a mystery for generations and beyond is Sai baba. Having read through all his enchanting stories and life comings, it is impossible to state which religion he actually followed or nudged his devotees to seek. It’s not been eminently long since he took his last breath, dating back to 1918, which isn’t even hundred years, it is an astonishing sight of no communalist divide in Shirdi, if one watches closely enough. If he preached the idea of Islam, then why does “Aarti” take place in his name, every day, which is a Hindu ritual? Conversely, if the opposite is believed, then why is there a tomb in the “Samadhi Mandir”, where he was given burial, which is unequivocally an Islamic ceremonial, rather than following the Hindu tradition of burning the dead? Also, right in front of the popular place named Chavdi, stands the cottage of his biggest devotee who himself was a Muslim. In present context also, it was discovered that a Muslim shopkeeper was selling articles predominantly required in Hindu god worshipping, showing a perfect example of amalgamation of survival in harmony of individuals ofvarious religions. If such a niche supporting peace and love can exist, fostering the idea of one god and doing one’s dharma, to achieve acceptance from “him”, then why is it so difficult to inculcate the same in the minds of the entire world community? After all, humanity should take seat much above any other conviction.

An article written for a competition. Chip in your views on the same. :) 

Goa Diaries I

Picture perfect. Orange blue sky, sun gradually making its adieu, throwing the last pieces of its rays on the crystal clear water. Surrounded by nature all around, green and blue, quite and ecstatic. In the lap of nature, don't wake me up from this dream so beautiful...but wait, this isn't a dream, this really is it, I'm here. My eyes roll past the scene trying to capture every intrinsic detail, painting it all over the dull plain pieces of unimaginative canvas in my head, literally bringing my sense to life. Tip toeing my way in the hap hazard terrain, I stretch my steps to the closest I can get to feel more alive. Can it get any better than this? But wait, the clumsy me gives me shocks now and then, jolting me to believe the dream I'm living is all real, until you catch me, not letting this dream falter in the slightest of possibilities. Sitting on the most uncomfortable rocks, breathing in the surroundings full of all the intricacies I've been the most afraid of, till date, nothing scares me anymore. For we're here. All of us. Together.

Gliding our way back the strenuous terrain, I learn so much more. "Walk with your feet diagonal and not straight. Watch out!", you command your way through, as I try to process the instructions as swiftly as possible. But you make sure to guard me like a shield if I falter, making me feel protected, ready to catch me as I fall, which anyway I am. :)  Joking about ghosts that roam around the fort, I walk faster, not realizing the distraction created to make us reach much earlier than before. Clever much? For sure! 

Back on the bike, like everyday, the cool breeze kicking in, accompanying the ride which is no less than that of a roller coaster. Thin twisted roads, no traffic; speed, adrenaline, songs, rain drops, breezing past the tiny huts and signs of settlement. Just one thought rolling past in my head, is this the real paradise? Following the most complicated path, through roads so narrow that would allow nothing wider than a bike to pass, bumpy and muddy full of puddles of water. Finally we made it to the sea, and Curlies. The concept was as astonishing as it could get. You don't have money to afford too much food? Or want to spend it all over alcohol? Well, then walk out to the option of omelette in all varieties, cheap and sumptuous. Oh, and the perfectly quite and beautiful walk about the sea, in the moonlight, surely was a Walk to Remember. Lying in your lap, on the bed of sea as the water came gushing, mellowing its force with every inch of closeness it made, eventually making its way back to start the cycle all over again, was an exquisite sight all together. 

Sitting on low lying couches, sharing moments of laughter and games, and getting bemused in the trance, as with the ticking seconds the sound seemed to pick up, creating a melancholic rhythm in our head, the mind was brimming with the idea to dance our hearts out, but the body wanted to just lie low and absorb everything. The lights seemed so bright, so astonishing, conversations around seemed so real, so interesting. And me? I felt like a frozen wax, ready to lash out the light within me as I consumed the feel of music, people and sea. 

Deciding to groove to the tunes, we made our way inside the club. And then it was like us slow dancing on swift beats. The world seemed to have vanished. Just you, me and that gigantic speaker. Swaying in your arms, I smiled like an idiot, closing my eyes and resting my head on your chest, finding every moment spent here just so hard to process. Time raced past, but for me it was like the clock had stopped ticking. I wanted to stay in this moment, with you, forever...

And in a flash went away a perfect day in Goa, and added to everlasting memories in all our heads.

Unexpected happiness.

Its rightly said that one should not expect too much out of people, time and particularly life. Contemplating your future is actually a shot in the dark, a lost game before the beginning and something utterly out of reach. So does the saying about good things coming your way when you least expect it, hold true. Maybe the fact lies that we drop our expectations to such a low that anything new or unusual makes a difference. Or maybe its the people that really make a difference. But how does one know who's the unique one, who'll flip your life novel into a new beautiful chapter all together?
People have their own theories. Some might even pose a strong belief in love at first sight. I find the idea completely absurd, defeating the concept of love, taken over by lust in its most vivid form of attraction and short lived feelings. But what if you find a person who has the same perceptions as you do? Will that be a sign? Wouldn't that completely violate the idea of opposites attracting and making the perfect combination?
Rightly he says, Opposites attracting happens only in movies. In reality, is it really possible to live your life, share your ideas and be yourself with someone who's got completely twisted views? Someone with whom your opinions will create a nexus of conflicts and questioning over compatibility. 
Maybe it seems too "boring" an idea, or extremely stable to comprehend? But is that really worth giving up for instant clashes and non understanding of emotional outbursts, because the other person is too immature to handle you, or well, too different.

When I saw him, it was a usual sight. An admirable personality, appealing looks with the most enticing smile. A bubbly face, running around with the gleaming excitement to complete his work, had this certain aura about himself. He was certainly not "my type" of a guy, but there was something which allured me. Maybe the crushed expectations, the disappointments of the past made me believe that I'd never see him again. Hearing the enthusiasm in my friends voice, calling him one of THE people to glue our eyes at, made me want him to come and talk to me, all the more. Just once.
Didn't happen. 

1 day.
2 day.
.
.
.

27 february, Bingo! 

With the twist of fate, you talked to me, I don't know how and when, but everything is different now. Sometimes I wish you would've appeared from these thin clouds of disparity much sooner. But who knows, maybe then things might have been different? All I know is, I'm ready now. Ready to consume the happiness, the laughter, the little things which make everything so much better. Maybe you're completely opposite of the "prototype" I believed I was mend to be with, but certainly that's because you're too special. :) The fact that the similarities are too strikingly alike, how you understand every pinch of difference in my mood, and keep your cool when I'm oh-so-freaking complicated; makes me cherish us in every bit of detail.
Straight silky black hair, strong arms, beautiful black eyes, broad chest to take the burden of my never ending "nautaunkiyaan", and the feeling that says I'm so not letting him go anywhere, ever. <3

I'll bring down these walls I built to keep myself safe from all the lies, pain and disparity, in the hope that this time I wouldn't have to regret. This time, things will change. This feeling of optimism is here to stay, and I wouldn't give it up for the most precious of possibilities. I wouldn't time bind this, for certain situations and people make everything too real and sure, erasing the idea of stepping back and waiting. Yes, now I know, I was waiting for YOU.

Cause all I know is we said helloAnd your eyes look like coming homeAll I know is a simple name, everything has changedAll I know is you held the doorYou'll be mine and I'll be yoursAll I know since yesterday is everything has changed
:)

Perplexed thoughts...answered.

Sitting in the classroom, watching the rain drops fall, as they create a rhythm too serene to capture in the moment, hypnotising me into an endless sea of thoughts. Thoughts calling out for changes, realizations and most of all reparation. It is one of those moments when you ask yourself, is this really what I wanted? Or am I on a delusional path leading to nowhere? The bitter memories of the past haunt me, drowning me in an ocean of unrest. The pounding in the head shouts out, where did I go wrong? Frustrated and irritated, I suppress these emotions for I know they wouldn't do me any good.

I needed a clean slate. 

Yes, that's exactly what my mind demanded. Freedom from this noise, complexities and most importantly the city. I needed to get out and find my freedom and peace. But who was I running from? The voice inside me whispered, the people. But my heart knew everything about this place felt wrong. There were so many answers I needed, and only the place which took away my peace was the right destination. Probably 2012 was a year of learning. Happiness, sorrows, anger and hatred, all muddled into one. What I was searching for was indifference. Many a times people take you for granted, hurting you at such unexpected times and crushing your expectations to the extent that you are forced to put them at the highest pedestal of your life perplexities. You hate them. Then secretly you miss them. But is it them you're missing or the time you spent with them? All you know is you want to push them away from your head, but they continue to bounce back, either through rumours, mutual friends, random texts, or worst of all dreams.

Travelling alone to an unknown city for the very first time, I decided to twist my life into something unusually different. I heard this city changed people, some good and some bad. I longed for this to happen to me as well. City of dreams? Not really, but definitely a city of change. As I stepped into a hurdle of unknown faces, all I could see were eyes gleaming with indifference. Indifference about my clothes, my walk and most of all my gender. Strangely it didn't matter if I was a girl, for them, I was just human. Pinching myself to accept reality I moved forward, finding it hard to believe this side of India also existed. It was as if with a click of fingers all my doubts and irritation was washed away. I felt new. 

As the time ticked away, every second here felt like the most precious one gone. The thought of going back scared me. 2 days and I was already in love with this city. What could be the reason? The pleasant warm weather or the indifferent yet concerned people or the deep blue sea? I think a doze of all of this was too hard to digest, and too new to accept. I loved everything about this city, pushing me back into a trance of thoughts as to why I chose Delhi over a paradise like this. Some answers are too difficult to process or even find out. This shall remain as one of those questions in my life's atrocities!

Walking on the wet sand, feeling the warm water of the sea, I wanted this path to never end. Watching the waves charge their way towards me, and slowly mellowing down as gesture of respect is a scene I wouldn't give up for anything. It had been a year since everything in my life got so complicated. At that moment everything seemed as crystal clear and simple as one wishes life to be. It was as if the sea was the answer to every mind boggling thought. That moment I realized I wanted to get rid of all the hatred, anger or sorrow I felt for anyone and everyone. Maybe I underestimated myself for not being strong enough of granting forgiveness. I told myself he didn't deserve any bit of it. But then keeping all this darkness inside me, I was hurting myself. Throughout these months I had caged my own self into bitter thoughts and hopes of how it all could have been. What was I punishing myself for? Maybe I was finally ready to face the situation I ran from all along.

And so I did. 

He was there, exchanging a warm hello. Strangely I felt nothing. Starting a general conversation, we walked backwards the path I had embarked my journey upon. Looking at him didn't feel weird, talking to him felt too stretched and my mind was screaming the thought of going away. This time it wasn't a forced goodbye which crushed my soul, but one that I really wanted. I wasn't annoyed, sad or happy. I was bored. I knew I would never see him again, yet I didn't want to look back to see his face one last time. Life is a strange journey. You never know what you really want and what you've been wanting all along. So much of time wasted in convincing myself for what? It wasn't just indifference that I felt, it was a bland feeling, which surprisingly made me feel complete. Every step I took away from that place felt as if I fluttered my wings to fly with no regrets or guilt, for what's past is past. 

I feel glad having taken this trip, starting 2013 on a roller coaster ride, not of emotions, thankfully, but of memories of a city I would love to visit again and again. 
A land I had tears for as the plane got ready to take off. 
A place which felt like home, away from home...
Called MUMBAI. :)

The lost path.

Ahh, what a perfect start to the weekend! No college, work or any burden. She needed this break. Not just from being physically tormented by the daily hectic schedule, but a break mentally from the unsteady roller coaster her life had become at that moment. After getting a perfect sleep, which she figured wasn't only enough but over the top, she decided to get ready and set the time ticking for her plans that day. The plan was simple, go to C.P, hang out with an old friend she never had the opportunity to meet in the last six months and watch her favourite movie, she was so excited to watch since, forever. The hitch was she had to help her room mate to get her phone unlocked. So, she contemplated the time they had in getting the work done and the movie timings. Wearing her favourite long colourful kurta with matching sandals and her lucky bag, they headed out on a cloudy day, expecting nothing to go wrong. The series of events that followed were drastically opposite to their imagination.
Late to the metro station. 
Sudden cloud burst. 
Rampant pushing of innumerable people in the metro which was unusually extremely crowded. 
And well....LATE. 

Nandini expected she'll make it in time, and all she'd have to do, was sacrifice a maximum of 10 minutes of the movie for Amily's work. Gah! she soon enough started cursing herself for being so calculative about how she'd tried to take Delhi for granted. A place where things change in the blink of an eye, including people. Rushing out of the metro gates in a direction they both were clueless to, they tried to process the puzzling complicated surroundings to whatever little they knew about the place. This shop was somewhere in the interiors of CP. These girls had always appreciated this part of the city for its convenience to reach and the option of places it offered. However, they were unaware of the dirt and filth that consumed the area underneath its colourful lights. Exploring and gushing towards their destination, they lost their path and all the glitter and familiarity disappeared as they moved into a silence struck black hole. Alarmed yet calm, Nandini kept telling Amily she knew where they were and it wasn't that big of a deal. Yes, it wasn't until water drops started falling over their heads all over again. "I hate rains!", shouted Amily, hearing the echo of her own words. Nandini, on the contrary was a big fan of monsoons. The smell, feel, sight and everything of rain pulled out the happy child in her, rebelling with her inner conscious to break free of her maturity norms and run around, dancing her way out of the messed up decisions she'd taken in the recent past. It also brought forward her memories with Aryan, how he pushed back the wet hair falling on her face and pulled her close enough to make her heart pounce as hard as a beat of a drum, and whispered in her ear, "You're beautiful, its true." Flipping through the happy images, the final scene stood vivid in her mind. She remembered how easily he'd let her walk away, not even waiting for her to turn back, if not stop her. Pushing away these thoughts which seemed worthless, she concentrated on guiding Amily in the right direction. The numbering of the shops was certainly very absurd and after brainstorming her mind to the last degree, Nandini decided to ask one of the shopkeepers to guide her in the right way. She felt a little bit of apprehension to trust any of these strangers, but it was a situation where she had no other choice. The way, as explained by one of the individuals led them to haul at a dead end.

Confused and irritated, Nandini desperately looked around to find any other way possible, till she found this kacha path, dug up with dirty water squirming out as the drizzling started to speed up with mud all over the place. Looking at their watch, the girls nodded to each other, as if telepathically conversing of choosing to walk past that path, come what may. Amily was swift, yet not entirely perfect in overcoming the obstacles imposed by the mud and the twisted ways. However, Nandini was too clumsy to make her way through. Right in the middle of the water and mud, her right sandal broke. "Yes! exactly this was needed! Thank you Delhi for showing your hatred towards me. I'm obliged!", she screamed to herself. Amily was rather helpless, as the path was too narrow to support two people simultaneously. After almost falling in the big pit and ruining her clothes, specially her feet, Nandini somehow made her way to the other side. "Shop no. 33! It's there!", both of them shouted in a chorus with enthusiasm. Running towards the shop as the rain started to become heavier by the minute, Nandini found it next to impossible to take even a single step with the broken sandal and slippery feet. With Amily's help she somehow made her way to the shop, explaining the person the problem with Amily's phone. It was 5 minutes of quarrel, till they realized nothing could be done, and all their effort went worthless. Down ridden and unhappy, they walked out of the shop, only to realize they were already 10 minutes late. Nandini tried to explain Varun why she's late and he should keep his calm for she was two minutes away from the hall. It was after a few moments she realized, she was lost and no google map or anything could help her way out of it. Amily looked more frightened, expecting a disappointing "I have no idea where we are" expression from Nandini. Following her instincts, she walked straight and Amily followed. As they continued walking, they realized they were in a locality surrounded by only men. Men, who gave those creepy stairs, who knew when someone was lost and could be their next prey, who pounced on the idea of luring innocent girls to such a place by telling them wrong directions. It was like these two girls had pushed themselves into the hands of trouble. Frightened to their wits, the two of them held onto to each other and continued walking.

One from the odd lot started humming, "Oh, lal dupatte wali tera naam toh bata!". Ofcourse, Amily couldn't understand what these men were saying, so she innocently looked into Nandini's direction for she had surrendered to whatever orders her friend would give, to escape this situation. Back home, Nandini was always called the coward; too pampered and well not even close to being a tough girl. But, today everything depended on her expressions. She had to keep her calm, to deceive everybody and to save her's and Amily's life.Crushing the unremitting emotions that sputter in her head, she kept her calm and kept pushing her way ahead, walking strangely and tripping after every five or seven steps, thanks to the broken sandal. "Arrey! humein dedo sandal, hum theek kar dete hai", another playful voice whooped, followed by the laughter and excitement of about three or four men , which she ignored for obvious reasons. Her body was gleaming with the prospective to run, but her mind processed the fact that it'll only push the girls into further mess, and give the men a heads up of them being lost and alone. They couldn't afford to look back, but were they headed outside this black hole or further into it? Were there some quite footsteps that kept pace right behind them waiting for the opportunity to lean forward and strangle them into its sleazy arms? They kept walking, praying every millisecond to the best of their abilities to their respective gods to shield them and get them out of this place. After having walked 10 minutes, they found a way through. It was as if they had found life back in their knees, which felt giddy after having surpassed an incident which could almost have made headlines in the next days newspaper as 'Another rape incident shocks the capital, targeting two young students'.

Having reached the outskirts of A block, luckily Nandini found a cobbler to fix her sandal and tissues to clean her feet. Varun had sent her a million texts, boiling with anger and frustration of having waited outside the cinema for straight 35 minutes! After taking a deep breath and getting herself together, Nandini apologized to him and requested him to ditch the movie plan and meet the girls near the popular CCD. She could really use a cup of coffee to come in terms with what had just happened. Walking towards CCD, she kept telling Amily to calm down for it was over, and they were safe.

Was it only Amily who needed a continuous assurance that it was really over, or was it a repeated voice inside Nandini, en grafting her to believe the fact that she had safeguarded themselves. The question is, was it really over, or was it just the beginning? 

Perfect lies. Perfect time.

The only way to really know is to let it go...

"Don't give up on me that easy. I'll lose myself."
"I'm not going anywhere...but this, whatever it is, I can't handle it. Its beyond what I can understand, process or accept."
"I'm beyond messed...give me a couple of months. We'll be back to what we were, trust me...its you, forever and always."

9 days to give up. 14 days to move on. Perfect. 

Ahh, I wish that was my side of the story, but oh well...
It's funny how people think of you as some psychotic moron who can be fooled at every step with the lamest of reasons to make you let go. Guilty as charged, why? because I care.
Haah, that word. What does it mean and to what all areas it lies? After all this time conversations die, thoughts go bitter and feelings fade away. I always felt like the shiny new toy in your life. The forbidden fruit. But the question was how long will I last? This phase, was too temporary to put in words, but too strong to explain in anyway. Keeping shut was the only option I had, but even that didn't help. I had so many questions. But everyday each action of yours proved it why this time I was the one who messed up. Sadly, no one can mend that, but time. But again, there was hope. Couple of months, right? what could've possibly gone wrong? Everything.

Its about time, this phase of wait, of longing to get out of this limbo, is about to get over...but all answers flash before my eyes already. I'm not strong enough to hear it all. But have you ever given me a choice, at all?

"I care, way too much, and you know it. It's just not like that...I love you, yes, but as a best friend."
Silence.
"I hope you have moved on?"
Silence.
"I like this girl. She's amazing. Quite like you, in a lot of ways."
Amusement. Laughter. Irony. 

Tissue, yes, that's what I was, and will always be. Dang, the new toy has worn out. Throw it off, dude! what's the point of keeping it in your collection of god knows what interests. Lets go through your life check list:
Best friend -check-
Crush/liking -check-
Random time filling people -check-

Where do I fit in? :\ No where I suppose. So what is the point of holding on to something that cannot be categorized?

Lies. lies. lies.
Enough of it man! I'm not a fool, I was just too blinded by the "care". Yes, nothing else, because that's all it was.

What is it now?
Nothing, and never will be. 

Dejavu

Still stuck in the time when we called it love, but even the sun sets in paradise...

Its funny how situations can take such a toll in a matter of a month. What seemed like an unrealistic possibility, comes crashing onto you as today's harsh reality. Can you do anything about it? Umm, i guess not...but its better to just vent out these feelings by writing or something...

So he asked me he needed approval. He trusts me more than himself over the choices he will make, knowing how bad im at choosing, he doesn't care, for he loves unconditionally. Im more than glad to help him make this decision, but im afraid that it might all end up to be like it was for me...still i don't back out, for i love him, more than a stupid brother (if he was), crazy best friend (that we've always been), or even a role model or whatever I'd say would be an understatement. I wish every guy was as caring, pure and kind hearted as he is, but as i say such people seem to be the endangered species, who turn out to be either your brother or best friend.

He smiles like a retard seeing that one sweet text from her, ahh, we the stupid loving people. How adorable he looks with that childish grin, and that's when i realize how jealous im of the same. I was like that, a few months back, but darn, what happened?!
I ask him to fix me, but i guess nobody can. The one who broke me is happy in another world, and here i am cleaning up the shattered pieces of us lying on the ground.

"Its going to be a tough ride. But you deserve better."
You're very right there my friend, but can you define better in the context of your speech and my condition?

So i say- " its better to be rejected than be treated as a second option." I know i make sense there, but how do i convince myself to believe this simple statement?

He calls me innocent, and begs me to become a little selfish. Maybe i am. But is this the price i pay for being selfless, or umm, just...me?

We exchange hugs and bid goodbye for both of us are en routed to journeys in different directions. Like literally. Right after which i find myself standing near the same platform i was a month ago. The feeling of not letting go surmounts my head. The same emotions i felt then, when i watched you leave. The announcement rings over my ears and buzzes me back to reality shouting out loud that its all over. One month, and nothing's the same. Why? I wish i could answer that...

Will it ever be the same again?
Who knows, but one thing is for sure, the innocence is gone...

A little time...

We’re here, staring at the clear blue sky, wondering if this is what it is. The view is serene and pure as crystal. Suddenly a feeling runs down our souls, it’s like venom spreading slowly and steadily, marking its presence. As if the devil has shown its existence finally inside us, inflicting pain, tears and jealously. So many emotions, can one really handle it all? Why can’t we be as sorted as the sky is? Know what to do at which moment, choose the option which is the best for us and well make everything simple.  How we wish life could be that easy, predictable and planned. Excitement and adrenaline can be exercised in any other form, but for us, we just wish it was all decided in form of a book, one which we could read and understand like the back of our hands. 

You say you need time. Even when you don’t say it, I can feel the same. You owe yourself this much. Yet you pretend you’re as clear as the sky to make all decisions for us, and start a new book from the scratch with new chapters and developments. But are you actually so sorted yet? Isn’t it too early to think of starting all over again? What about the book you continued writing for so long, the one which was so dear to you that you gave up almost everything for it? Is it justified to leave all that work and determination in the jest of finding something new? If it is inspiration that you desire to complete that final piece, then my friend, I’m always there to guide you through all those roads which can give you that perfect ending. But defying the reality and moving on to write something you’re not even ready for yet is just ruining yourself to an all new level. Maybe it seems the best option, or the only one you have… not exactly, there is one option that you buried somewhere you don’t ever want to reach out to.. an option to not write for awhile.  No, you’re not selling your soul, neither are you inviting darkness to take over. You’re just making life simple and easy.  If you’re afraid you’ll lose me, then that’s where the mistake lies in interpreting everything, especially me. If I’m your inspiration then I’ll make sure I stay here always, no matter how much it takes out of me.

So take your time, close your eyes

I will be here with you

They may be right I may be foolish

But I will wait for you…

Complete your story, and I’ll hope you succeed to write series to the same, and it doesn’t change from its path ever, because this is the story for you, the one you should never give up on. As for me, I would hope to be mentioned somewhere along the lines of the majestic words you spin in it.

We all have a story, a novel which belongs to us. Maybe I haven’t found it yet, and someday when I do, it will be real. Till then I cannot pretend to have got what I wanted, no matter how beautiful this illusion is. At the end of the day, when reality kicks in, this shall not suffice.  I might be wrong, but in your wish to write all over again, I’m nothing but your expectation of how you hoped your unfinished book should have turned out to be. But sometimes we need to realize and make a choice as to we want to achieve a certain something we never could find from our past, or change our present to suit the past needs. If past is what we’re living in still, then there is no a timeline to differentiate what the past was and present is.  If that is where you really belong, then nothing in the universe can change it.

Just do me a favor in this soul searching, to give me that little piece of truth of what we really are. If I am anything, if not something to you, then think about it once again. Am I only an inspiration or a substitute? Or an excuse to escape from the reality you still don’t have the power to face?