Tucking it away....

I am not coming. He said in a soft tone.

Why? it would be nice. We all are going. There was a persuasive tone in her voice. 

He was not tired but he was lazy to walk out into the cold. 

May be you will find your future wife in this party. She said, now with a  persuasive smile.

He smiled. And thought " What happens if I don't go - nothing much, I sleep and another day gets over and What happens if I go - may be something, like seeing an UFO in the sky or meet my wife?"

Yay!.. That was another sound of approval. 

He dressed up and off they went.

-------

As soon as he opened the door, the loud music hit his ears. It was hurting.  

In dimly lit discotheque light, he could see many dancing and making merry. 

To enjoy this party, he needed to reduce his senility. So he went in search  drinks. Yes, he believed that was the only solution. He found many bottles which he didn't care to read. In a disposable glass he mixed few and added coke. Gulp. 

After 2 minutes, he lost  3 years from his age. 

Process was repeated twice to land himself at an age of 20. 

Slowly his hands started to follow the music and  his legs to the beats. And he danced till his legs ached. 

He didn't meet his wife. He had already met her long ago. Now she was somebody else's wife.

Another set of memories added to the castle of memories. This one sits in the eastern block of the 4th floor. 

PC:http://snapshotsandneedledrops.com/2013/02/05/dancing-in-the-dark/

Monsoon

Drops that didn't stay on the leaves fell on to the asbestos sheet down below. Together it created a music.  And that music still reverberates in his ears after 15 years. 

Monsoon rains in kerala is different. It is an experience which never ceases to surprise him. And surprisingly, he got drenched in rains from around the world but none of those could etch a castle of rainy memories in his heart as the one from kerala on that day. 

May be it was her, in those rains, that didn't let that memory fade away. Like a black and white piece of film stuck in the projector, he tried to escape. Again and again.

Yet, he vividly remembered that rain. The smell of the warm earth cooling down on those first  drops of monsoon of 2000. 

Those anxious eyes, perplexed, was looking for something.

And 15 years later, he realized it was not him those eyes were searching for.  Though, those eyes got transfixed in his eyes forever. 

Unable to close and forget, his eyes still told the story of that  monsoon day.

Unsaid and Ununderstood

In sweaty conundrums,

of a life time moment of love,

eyes dissolved,

into a dream seen never before.

Touch and goosebumps,

sweet lavender from interlocked hair,

Untangled, 

And a whisper in ear.

A feisty rush,

ruffled linen on to floor,

a missed beat on bass,

With a wisp of air through biting lips.

A rhythmic silence,

understood in unison,

Tagged along,

In a journey to beyond.

Piercing nails,

Bloodied in pain,

immersed in pleasure

of heaven and above.

A stillness beyond closed eyes,

panting with a smile,

the descend from the sky,

into the arms waiting to hold.

Missed again....

9.06 AM.

It is late. And so he runs. 

He don't want to miss it. It was always like this. As usual he did everything that needs to be done. But he couldn't finish them all.

So he runs. Now a bit faster. 

He should have got up early. But winter chill is so difficult to shell off. Without any remorse he snoozed the alarm. Every time till it was 8:04 AM.

He was almost there. But now was the most difficult part. The crossing.

He was confused. To have tea before breakfast. Exercise or not.  Bath or not. Confused. Every time.

Ah! There it goes. 24 Luminy. His bus to work.

Missed again! He sees the vacant bus leaving. Crossing the signal which was inadvertently green, or he supposed.

The Love Graph

My friend (X) is in love with this guy who is an ex of her best friend. The best friend is in love with an Algerian guy who has a twin brother. This twin brother is a friend of X. They had met when X was with her girlfriend Y. X met Y when her boyfriend was on a vacation to America. However, X fell in love with Y when she met another girl while on a vacation with her ex boyfriend to America. The girl was the trigger point which told X that love had no genders. Current love of X for this new guy is taking place  while another  friend of her has fallen for her last week. While all these stories are going on, X loves (not sure) a fellow from her college. But he has a girlfriend and hence X is in passive mode.


The above is just a story of  one person whom I know. Now imagine millions of people like X and who are in love with somebody and their love stories. Imagine the interconnections, the strength of each bondage and where these connections lead to. It forms a network of people and connection between them. I call this love graph.

Now what I am thinking is : is there anybody in this world who is not in this graph ?

At some point they were a part of this graph and

may be later, they got separated from this. That can happen, isn't it ?

The more I think about it, I feel there is another graph which is a reflection of this love graph. It is graph made of the lost. The one which belongs to those who are cursed to be not in love. Not because they are not perfect to be a part of the love graph but perhaps, they are too much in the love but for some reasons the edge couldn't be established.

From my window, I can see the entire city and also, mountains and the sea that lies between them and beyond. Through the smudged glass, I strain myself to figure out which graph I belong to.

Image source:http://graphstream-project.org/doc/Generators/Random-graph-generator_1.0/

A Tribute to Laughter and Company

"I will be cooking and you can help me". She said.

"That would be fine. Let me know what to do".  I looked around to make sense of what to do.

There was not much of cooking. But my stomach was full.
Full from laughter and being happy.

Sometime what you are hungry for is not food. Its more than food.

After 2 years of staying alone in Bangalore, I decided that I won't stay alone this time. For me, being alone in that big apartment was like a nightmare. And given a city like Bangalore, it was a nightmare being outside also.


 I wanted to have all the fun that I had when I was with a bunch of Hooligans. That was way back in Chennai and also in Bombay (yes and not Mumbai)

So I took a collocation instead of a studio for myself. And my new roommates were three girls.

I never knew how nice it would be to share a roof with a bunch of girls and that too very talented: A painter who plays Piano and Djembe, an architect who plays guitar and an Oceanographer who is very sweet and innocent.

And other perks being good food, good music and comparatively, a nicely kept apartment.


Life has been really nice to me. Always have been blessed to with  set of  nice people.
After all life is measured in terms of the company that you keep.

A Crusade Against Age

I am getting old.

Or may be I am old.  But I fight to define what old being is?

Is it the inability of the body to the push yourself. Then I am not old. I am fit as a fiddle.

Have my thoughts gone senile? No I don't think so. I am still learning and learning more than I learned yesterday.

Yet, in the corner of my heart where the color is white, it murmurs in  a breaking voice: Am I old ?

Whenever you have eliminated all which is impossible whatever left should be truth said Sherlock.

And that truth is I am not getting old!



Picture courtesy:https://ba6alah.wordpress.com/2010/04/07/getting-old-key-of-happiness/

A momentary passing

Life is a momentary passing. A passing that can end any time. May be now, even before I finish this sentence. This realisation, to me is a tipping point. One which tells me to love this life even more. And the world, even though with all the shortcomings, is indeed a beautiful place to live in.

Loving my life!

Go, enjoy your life, love it and live it like as if there is no next moment to spare.


PS:Tomorrow onwards I would be spreading this infection and also this infectious smile that I have right now.

Power of Expectation

Somebody I know told me that life is like a pressure cooker. Why? Because everybody expects you to do something and you are punched from all sides to meet them.

At my work they expect me to crack something big that would solve every problem they got. So I work like a mad dog to meet their expectation.

At home they expect me to get settled. Because according to them I am not settled. So I take pains to come out of my comforts to get "settled" the way they want.

My friends expects me to support them. They say it is my duty. Because I am not "settled".  So I sort their problems even if I miss something that I like to do while doing those.



I have to learn to say no. More often.

Every Year For her Love

Calanque was not that far away. Around 3 km from the entrance of the park.

This was  my second visit here. Last time I went to the top of cliff to get a 360 degree view. It was exhilarating. So this time I thought of going down to sea side, the actual calanque. It was cold but I knew after 20 minutes of walk, I would be sweating. Through my light sweaters the wind was trying to take cold to my body. So I started to walk fast.


At a distance, I saw an old lady, walking alone. I could see many people but all were either in a group or as couples. This was something strange.  From her posture I assumed she was panting.  I thought she was panting because she could not manage her bag. Thinking of helping her, I stepped up.

Once I was taking strides with her, I started the conversation in my broken French.

Bonjour! belle journée [Hello,lovely day?]
She stopped and looked at me. Then with a smile said "oui" [yes].
Dois-je vous aider avec le sac ? [Should i help you with the bag?]
Non.. Then she said something in French, which I did not understand. So I had to tell the truth.
Je ne sais pas beaucoup de Français [I don't know that much french].
She smiled and told me that "he would have said the same".
Then she told me her story in broken English.


It was her 60th wedding anniversary and every year on this day she used to visit this calanque. He had passed away some 9 years ago. But she still comes. She was 78.

She told me about a great place from where I should see this calanque. Politely she said she cannot come with me to the place else would have definitely taken me there. She insisted I go there before going back.

Hesitantly, I left her behind and moved on.

As I was about to pace up. She called me from behind and told me that it is better to visit this place with my girl friend rather going there alone. I smiled and said I don't have a girl friend. With a naughty smile, she asked me to get one soon. We laughed together.

Then I parted my way. May be will never see her again.

Finally after an hour of trekking I reached the place she told me to visit. And it was amazingly beautiful.

Nobody could "not" fall in love in such place like this [see below].

As I was looking over the horizon, I noticed a couple on the cliff side kissing. The air was full of love and for a second I thought it was infectious.

 

Welcome to Marseille

And I moved to Marseille.

Quit the job in Bangalore. Packed my backs and left India.
No good byes. No tata.

New job, new people, new language and new air.

Life is a clean state. Now lets see what happens in my second chance.

Pic courtesy: My backyard by me :)

What do you wish for

When you have everything what do you strive for ?
And how do you define everything that you have ?

"In closed realms of my life, a solitude of sea resides,
Not swaying to the winds of tomorrow,
But, maybe, forever lost in void of complacency,
or, maybe, in the glory of an utopian idealism."

Tour de Indonesia

"Indonesia is just like Kerala. Nothing special". My uncle echoed from other end of the phone. He was trying to convince me not to go to Indonesia for a vacation.

Yes, Indonesia is in many ways is similar to Kerala. This may include the climate, the vegetation and the cultural similarity. But one thing makes them different, and very much different are the people.  Indonesians are one of the most courteous people whom I have seen on this planet. Let me give few examples anything and everything done will be replied with a "Teri ma kashi" which means "Thank you" in Bahasa. And also where in the world would you find a shopkeeper who would ask you to bargain with at-most politeness and innocence and that too with a smiling face.

Their language, Bahasa, is not a true language but a creole language. It contains a bit of Malay, Hindi, Sanskrit, Vietnamese, and many others. May be Indonesians picked up all the good customs in these cultures when they borrowed few words from these languages.

The first thing that hits you when you land in Jakarta, the capital of Island of Indonesia or archipelago is the heat. It is supposed to be just another tropical climate destination but you feel its too hot even though when you are coming from hot country. Heat is oppressive. So you have to take refuge in the AC lounges or malls. Luckily my friend's apartment is fully air conditioned.

Even though heat is not that bearable, what makes it soothing or put aside are the shopping centers and food streets of Jakarta. It is a paradise for shopaholics. When I say that you can get almost everything from a  comb to an Audi Q7 in these malls, I am not joking. Yes it is like another Dubai with a nice set of people around you.

Another feat that almost marvels like the shopping centers is the food. Indonesians staple diet is rice based. But unlike Indians they consume a paltry portion of it. The rest of the diet includes Ayems (chicken) of different make with different variety of red meat. What I liked most is Bubur Ayem, which is basically a porridge mixed with vegetables and chicken and spiced up with sambal. Next in line is Nasi Goreng, which is basically Indonesian fried rice spiced up to burn your tongues but so tasty that it gives minute orgasms to your taste buds. An interesting thing you see in traditional Indonesian restaurants is the way food is served. First they keep the rice on the table and then display whatever the kitchen has to offer in small portions. Since everything is displayed just in front of you, it would take a mountain full of will to leave  them untouched. In the end they charge you based on what you have touched. First they would take away every dish from the table you haven't tasted. Thereafter they would count the dishes that you have taken and charge you based on it. I find this a great marketing strategy, one that would actually make you eat as much as anything just because they look so yummy.

One of those days my friend got invited to resto-bar where their band was performing. Jakarta contains many such joints. The band was too good that I ended up giving around 100$ as tip for them. I was not in my sober state to make sound judgment and this conjured me to give it. But still no regrets about that. The band was freaking awesome. We also visited a very expensive pub belonging to five star hotel. And as usual it was loud and crazy. Jakarta is cosmopolitan city with so many expats living for long period of time.You could see Japanese, Chinese, Koreans, Indians and many Dutch over here.

If one wants more of a rustic picture of Indonesia then they should come out of the urban magic that Jakarta can offer. My friend took us to a place called Yogyakarta. It is around 7 hours of train journey. Unlike trains that you find everywhere else Indonesian trains don't have a sleeper facility. But they do offer comfortable push-back seats. However braze yourself up for brightly lighted compartments and no, they do not switch of these lights in the night.


Otherwise known as Jogya, Yogyakarta is tourist hub for heritage places and beaches. One of the most important relic of Buddhism is situated here. Boroboddur is one of those places where you just get awestruck by the sheer size of its gigantic structure. It is an ancient Buddhist temple (8th century BC) which might get destroyed very soon. No it is not any natural catastrophes that is going to wash it away but the newly formed Islamic state has issued a destruction call of this amazing relic. One of the reasons for me to take up this trip was beacause of this threat.

Built on massive molten stones this relic forms pyramid like structure with different levels. There are 5 levels with the topmost level having Buddha stupas enclosed in bell like structure.  Each of the level has to be circumvented in clockwise direction. On completion of each level, you progress into the next level showing the enlightenment process as one goes up in the ladder. Make sure that you carry an umbrella or hat while visiting this temple as the premise is very hot.  Once you exit from the temple, you are swarmed by street vendors selling almost every handicraft you can think of. Compared to Jakarta this place is very inexpensive and people even more warmer.

In the evening we went to near by beach. This was the nearest beach to the town and it is called Parangtritis beach.  The sun set early at these places, so plan your beach outing well. We were late and sun had almost set. Still, it didn't stop us from venturing into the water. The water is pristine and to some extend less salty. Another good thing about this beach is that sand is too grainy and soft. You could walk almost half a kilometer into the sea and still enjoy the waves without being nervous of getting washed away. After the tryst with lofty evening waves,  one can get a warm water from nearby bath houses. They charge a very nominal fee for this. There are plethora of seafood joints here. We experienced an awesome fried fish at one these shacks.

After visiting Prambanan, another Hindu temple, we returned back to Jakarta. Once back in Jakarta, our urban style returned. We went for some electronic shopping at Grand Ambassador mall. I ended up buying Polaroid camera. I think my mom would like it. The next day we boarded our flight back to India.

It was a memorable trip where I  learned one thing  that people can be nice without having something in their mind.

The Great Indian Marriage Proposals

I do not wish to marry. At least for now. And I am 31 which is like the upper limit for Indian men to get married. My reasons are many which I do not wish to divulge now.

However, my family expects me to marry and settle down. So they take me to see these brides around my neighborhood. It was like working on constraint optimization problem with constraints being
1. Should be near our town within a radius of 150 km or so
2. Should be holder of professional degree and working
3. Should be not more than 30 years old
4. Most importantly - the horoscope should match

And the objective function is ...I just don't know what. So my dad, mom and granny does rounds of these search and come up with possible fantastic life partners for me. Had the Google guys seen this search process they would have actually added a matrimonial search category on Google home page.

Coming back to topic of this post.

Whatever may be the objective function they had, mine was very simple. Make the candidates reject me at all instances. Here are the few instance of how I did it.

Candidate No:1

As I was new to this bride seeing ceremony. I was invited by the candidates father to have private conversation with her. And so i went for the mission 1. After the customary hello-hi, we talked about for some 45 min. I was sure this lady was going to say yes after this very glib talk. I some how had to turn the table else I though I would be bowled over in the first over itself. And there, she gave me the fountain head I needed. She asked me if I was a savings sort of guy and whether I save a lot. I humbly said that I live in the present and don't have yet bothered about the future. So no savings. I knew this answer would be unacceptable. So strike one, she rejects me.


Candidate No:2

After a minute into conversation, she says that she likes me. I was literally stunned. I had to think fast. And then she too gives her fountain head like the previous one. She says that she wishes to work after the marriage. I say why not. Then she makes this statement - "I got this job after a lot of hard work, will it be easy for me to get a job in Bangalore ?". I start by saying no it depends on your profile and then proceeds with laborious procedure to be followed to get a good job. She rejects me by saying that she can't stress out to get a job in Bangalore:).

Candidate No:3
This was easy. I knew this one was going to reject me after seeing her way of keeping the tea tray (with a thud). She rejects me as expected. I was getting good at this thing.

Candidate No:4
By this time, I got a job offer from abroad. So the people who were looking for such candidates started approaching my parents. This candidate had finished her MBBS and was trying for PG. She had tried once and didn't get through. Our families had met before and were at ease with each other. I thought this would be deal I would finally get slaughtered. So I had to play it safe and play it well.  She told me that she required atleast 4 years time to crack and get her PG. I said I was fine  with that. Then I played my trump card; i said I won't back for say 10 years from Europe. This  put her away. She wanted to be with her parents. Reject it was again.


And the show still continuous.

PS: I know it is not good to waste the time of  both parties. However, my incorrigible parents don't give me any  option other than this. And I say it loud that every person I went to see were beautiful and sensible in their own way. It was just that I was not ready. And still am not ready.

Pic source:http://globeslother.wordpress.com/2013/09/01/arranged-marriage/

Leaving again...

Life is all about making the next move. The next leap.
As always I am going to take it without thinking much.
Embracing the uncertainty  of future with open arms.

Let the show begin.

Pic source: http://www.abundantprivatepractices.com/bootcamp_jun09.html

The Week I would Like to Forget!

Sunday: It all started last week when the Monsoon started to lash out in Kerala. I was there at home for the weekend. The exact reason for that was not my love for Kerala but wanted to complete atleast 100 kms on my new Thunderbird 500. So even thought it was overcast with clouds, I decided in my mighty wisdom that I should go out and roam around. Impending rain was not a problem. So I took my new brother and was about to cross the gate that my mom called from behind. "Take a cover for the Phone, its going to rain!". Initially I thought she was yelling at me for going at that odd hour but after sensing the wisdom that her grey hair I stopped the bike and got a plastic cover for the phone. I safely put my S3 Mini inside and started my journey. Soon the rain started lashing out but did I care? No. Because I had a cover on my phone its not going to get wet. And about me? -- I love rain!

After my adventurous ride I reached home and took my phone. Behold the old mighty! My phone was dipped in around 100 ml of water which seeped into the cover that I put over it. I had walked in the rain with the phone in pockets a thousand times but current catastrophe was with the cover on! Only because with my pea size brain, I put open cover into the rain. May be because I took the rain water harvesting concept pretty much seriously.  And then the next fiasco

Tuesday: My friend wanted to visit a temple which is like 75 km from my place, which happens to be a place called Bangalore. We leave early to avoid the beautiful traffic of Bangalore that it is famous for. On the way we pick another friend of ours and start our journey to Navaneeta Krishnan Temple. We visit the temple and take a selfie to convince everybody that we visited the temple and rides back. As soon as we started our journey back, my friend sees a state sponsored silk saree boutique. Both of my friends being from XX chromosomes wants to buy a saree!. So I stop the car but before all these happens I had given my new Phone (a Lumia 620) to my friend to send the selfie that we took to her family. Seeing the sky high price for ordinary not-a-second-look worth saree (starting range Rs.11200), we walk out and continue our journey. After going around 50km I ask my friend for directions and then begins the frenzy searching. My phone is not be seen anywhere inside the big Santro car! Using her highly praised intelligence, my friend says that we must have misplaced the phone in the boutique. To confirm it, she calls the stores after locating it through the god aka google. Even though the shopkeeper had spoken in rural Kannada, my friend says that she is absolutely sure that she understood everything. So we retracts and reaches the same shop once again, only to be handed with a broken Lumia 620. Apparently, they found it from the parking lot and some car had gone over it.

It doesn't stop here!

 Evening I go for shopping with my friends but this time on bike. Since bike don't have the helmet lock, I take my bicycle lock along with it. I put the key to that lock with my bike key bunch. This story will be continued on Thursday.

Wednsday: I get up late and is getting ready for the office. My roommates have already left. Usually they lock the door and go as everybody got their own key. After getting ready, to my horror I realize that I am locked inside with my home key in the car parked down below. I didn't club the car key with my home key and remember keeping it on the dashboard. I keep banging the door for 15 min but nobody comes. Finally it occurs to me that I should go for the help to the same neighbor whom I didnt talk until now. PS: she leaves on my opposite building. I shout from balcony for her and she comes running to see if my house is on fire. Dismayed at seeing my house intact, she ask the reason behind yelling. After understanding my agony, she calls my security to get my key. After waiting for 30 min, security comes and opens my door.

Meanwhile.

I am all impatient and thinks of buying a new phone. But my internet is damn too slow. I had long suspected that somebody is leeching on to my WiFi. So i decide to put a MAC filter over  the connection. I quickly change some settings on the WiFi router and restart it. And there again my ill luck continued;  none of the devices in my home were able to connect to the router. For some nth physics law it started looping back. So with a sulky face, I waited for the security to open door.

Thursday: Being a somewhat a health conscious guy (read whenever my 30 inch pants gets tight), I make it point to commute on my bicycle. My office is around 5km from my home but with that is not even a distance because I save a lot on my time axis avoiding the you know the fantabulus Bangalore traffic. I carry my bicycle and climb two storey down and leave for office dreaming about the six packs I can get if I do it regularly. After toiling for around 9 hours i come back to parking to take my bicycle. And then I realize that I forgot to take the key for my cycle lock. Yes, the lock was elastic in nature. It doesn't require a key to lock it but like any lock it requires key to unlock it. I had clubbed that ke y with bike key bunch. Crap!
 

These incidents happened few months ago. Due to graying hairs, I forgot what happened later. But  one thing I remember is that the rest of week were also damn eventful...of course in some unfortunate ways.

My world

Like the flutter of a flag that got swayed in the dying winter wind, I held my dismal face on that window sill.
It was never going to be easy. 

 

The world of perfect liberty to do the things that you like is immensely boring.
 

As one puts it, its not the life that seeks the beauty of the world but its the chaos in the life that brings out the beauty of the world.
 

And for me the beauty vanished, when it became so perfect. 

 

A calmness, a tranquility that is boundless and existing as far as the perceived infinity.

 

Dark circles made my eyes eager to close down. But then darkness, was dark in all senses. 

 

An absolute darkness.

 

Cast some light and I know I will be alright. For now.

 

A disturbing silence urges me to move forward. I take my step forward. 

A directionless pursuit of what I don't know.

I open my eyes. 

Hopeful rays slash my hopes. 

The road I see through that window is still empty.

 

It so far far away. I try to grasp it in my clutches. Failing miserably.

A breeze with a known fragrance tickles my face. 

 

A smile carves out of my mouth.  

 

I am alive again.

And the road is no longer lonely. 

I see the little kid in pretty pink frock coming back from her school.

Chaos and the beauty therein is going to begin. Again.

A rain to play

I was on my from the office. The sky was clouded and it was going to break upon any moment.  Putting the last ounce of energy to my peddle, I wanted to reach home as soon as possible.

On either side of the road, there was an unusual commotion. Hawkers trying to pack their road side shops. Vegetable guy trying to put his cart under the temporary hood of the hardware shop. A mother pulling her princess who wanted something which she forbade. People hurrying into and out of the supermarket. The auto fellow putting his covers on either side parked on the side of the road. An impatient young fellow anxiously looking to the right side for his bus and then to his watch.  The old tea shop fellow heating his  pot to serve the tea for the extra people who will barge into the shop once it rains. Everybody were in hurry. Like waiting impatiently for it to start. 

I was wishing not to get wet. But secretly, I didn't want to miss the fun of those cold water droplets sprinkling over my face. Nevertheless, I was paddling with all my might to reach home; much earlier than the usual. Otherwise, I would have bothered myself to stop in the market and indulge myself in some of my silly vices. But that day I just couldn't do that.

So I was peddling.

Before I was about to turn towards my street from the main road, it began.

It began as a drizzle. A kind of one that you ignore. A kind of one that hastens you, but still you wouldn't mind getting few drops on your hair. Making it wet as if you had put some wet hair cream.

I slowed down. Not because I wanted to get wet, but my breaks were then less effective. And the thought of having some casualty had slowed down my adrenaline.

By the time I crossed 2nd cross, it was  pouring down. My casual shirt was already wet. I thought about the mud strips that would be getting accumulated on it. This was bound to happen as my cycle didn't have its rear fenders. I could feel the dirt sprayed from the rear wheel on to my neck. To my relief, the down pour washed it away as soon as it got in there.

 As I entered the 8th cross, rain had reduced it tempo. However,  the green canopy through which I had to pass didn't make it seem so. Big drops along with leaves were welcoming me into my last leg of the journey. On either side of the road, which was kind of convex, rivulets flowed. Some places where it was not properly tarred, pockets of muddy water had already stagnated. And in some places, it was overflowing too.

I slowed down further when I heard some shrieking. Suddenly, a gate opened and a boy and a girl ran out. Both were sharing an umbrella; a pink one with those Disney characters on it. It was not large enough for both of them. Suddenly the boy stepped out of the umbrella. From the gate, somebody was shouting. I thought it was in Kannada. But I was not sure. The rain and wind had blunted my auditory and cognition skills.  May be it was his mother shouting at him to stand inside the umbrella. I noticed that the little girl was advising something to guy. It was cute sight to watch. The girl in her white and black sleeveless frock, with a serious face, saying something and the other fellow, smirking and, telling back something which for sure was nonsense. At that moment, the girl suddenly threw off the umbrella and both started to laugh. Shrieks of laughter, if to be told perfectly. They were jumping up and down and joyfully getting  wet. Seeing this,  the lady behind the gate was also smiling.

Watching them, I stopped my cycle and got down and started walking. As I walked past them, the little boy jumped into a mud pool, splashing all dirt onto my office attire. But instead of getting fumed up, I laughed.

I too wanted to play in the rain. I ran inside my home to come back and play.

For Rain: Boondan Boondan


"Boondan Boondan Barse Meha,
Kajrari Kaari Badariya,
Aise Naache Mora Manva,
Jaise Banme Mor Papiha"

Credit:Maatibaani ft. Ankita Joshi & Noor Mohammed Sodha
Source:http://maatibaani.com/
  

A Valentine Fever

I was late. I didn't want myself to be late. At least not that day. I never use mirror. I didn't have to. I always believed appearances can be deceptive. I knew how my face should look. I had my smile. That was to stick there till I saw her. She was on the way. I had asked her to get down at Borivilli station instead of Bandra. I would go there and then pick her up. I locked the door and left. The sky was cloudy, but I was sure that it won't rain. And as usual, I was decieved. By the time I took the ticket to Dadar, it was pouring down. There is a beautiful commotion that spreads when it rains in Bombay. Different shades of umbrellas suddenly come into life. Many don't care to take one, and they happily get wet. While being, ladies talk about what they are going to prepare for the dinner that night. I gleamed at this beautiful commotion. I loved Mumbai, so did she. I was all wet. Not because I didn't have an umbrella but because somehow I felt like getting wet. Suddenly, there was an announcement. It was of the running information about a slow train to Borovilli. I didn't want to take that. Instead, I preferred to take a fast train so that I could see her without having more stops in between us. I couldn't wait any further still I didn't want to waste time either. Finally, my rationality prevailed over my heart and I waited for a fast train. As the destiny often does to me, the next fast train got canceled. I remember not crying at that time. May be my tears got dissolved in downpour that was happening. After waiting for 15 min, the next slow train to Borovilli came. This time I succumbed to my heart. I boarded it. Another 15 min more to the final destination. I couldn't wait any further. Before the station halted, I jumped out and ran to platform 6. That was the last platform in that station. I had to cross an underground pass and to reach the platform, i had to climb a flight of stair. While running towards her, climbing those stairs, I didn't know how she would be looking. I tried hard to concentrate and have a mental picture of her. But I couldn't because before I could, I had already finished climbing the stairs. She was wearing black and white horizontal stripped T-shirt with yellow strips around the neck. There was the silver earring that I gifted her and she looked very beautiful with the red bindi, that she put just for me. Source:http://www.wallpapercasa.com/girl_woman_rain_umbrella_train_railway_station_platform_suitcase-116697.html And on the concrete bench for the passengers to rest, she sat. Like a little kid waiting to be picked up. She was texting something on her mobile and as I ran into her, she turned her head toward me. And then I saw this most beautiful smile that I had ever seen in my life. At that moment, I felt like I was born to be just present there. Just enough to see her.

Colors and Life

I have a Rubik cube in my room. Its a 3x3x3 cube. Sometimes back I knew how to solve it.  I didn't solve it because I wanted to solve it. I solved it because there was competition to solve it. I wanted to take part in it. And to solve, I didn't use any of brains. I just followed some standard textbook approach to solve it. I used to admire all people who used to solve it. Always thought they belong to an elitist class of intellectuals. However, the first moment, when I solved it, my adulation for them fell. Not because I was one among them now but merely because I assumed they must have followed the same steps that I followed. There was nothing intellectual about it. In fact, I felt it was like cheating. Cheating with yourself.

A 3x3x3 Rubik cube has 43,252,003,274,489,856,000 ways of arranging it. But only one arrangement is correct. It is nearly impossible to solve it given that there are these many combinations!

I think life as a Rubik cube. There are lot of ways to live. But in the end, we are supposed to be in that one state. This means that there nearly one minus quintillion ways  to have a complete life yet not being the perfect.

But there is a difference in this analogy between Rubik cube and life. We always come to know when a Rubik cube gets solved but how do we know the life we had, reached the perfect note. Is there going to be any sign ?

There are quintillion states and it seems impossible to solve. Yet, people solve the Rubik cube. And they come to that perfect combination where all colors are in harmony. Many have done it and many will do it. Of that many, many will just follow the steps I followed.

I stopped solving Rubiks now. I have forgotten how to solve. But I know I will live on. And hope that, may be, all the colors of my life will fall into place.