Saturday, November 12, 2011

"See You Soon"




Au Revoir


And the last morning rush, maa running around in the house , packing up stuff for me and by stuff I mean all eatables. She practically packs everything she thinks I can take along. I remember once my bag was unusually heavy. Why? Because maa had packed 5 kg apples. Not that one does not get apples everywhere but because she knew I would never make the efforts to go and buy. Mothers will always be mothers. And dad will keep asking me the checklist whether I had signed all the important documents, if I needed anything more etc etc. And it would only occur to him on the last day of my holiday that he had some problem with his phone or computer which he would want me to check. Sweet of him to think that I have excellent technical skills. In the middle of all this it suddenly occurs to me that I will have to leave yet another time. For yet another long stretch of being away. Although now being away from home is not tuff at all, but the moment of farewell, has always been tuff. Not knowing when would you be back home. In this moment of weakness I usually rush to my bathroom, for some lone time, so that I can cry my heart out softly and not trouble my already disheartened parents.
It’s a two minute ride from my home to the station. Suddenly I wish it was twenty minutes , its rare that papa drives slow but he did, simultaneously bringing in all the advices that he has to offer to me. The station is here, I have to get my stuff off from the dickey, yet again the thought of leaving gives a quick cold swoosh in the mind. But it has always been like that. Remembering to hand over the keys to my mom in case I don’t make them travel with me all the way. Checking the back pocket for the printout of the ticket again makes me happy. Sure I have forgot a lot of stuff back home, maybe my toothbrush ,maybe my mobile charger that I have been collecting from every place I go. But who really cares about the forgotten toothbrush, heck, you always get to buy the latest then, it’s the feeling : the guilt, That grips me. Clueless to all the emotions I act naïve, come in with 100% of my humour to save my day and leash my feelings. I can’t cry, why would I, Its so uncool to cry.
I feel guilty as if I am doing something wrong, the wrong is by not being there with my parents as they go to the other side of fifties, it’s not getting scolded by maa for those silly things that I do all the time, its not getting those hot cooked roti’s I always took for granted when young, Its for dad not being there to take care, Now I know what is that feeling , I can’t be called greedy when I want to be there when that cuckoo greets the morning with a song at five every morning on the adjacent tree adjacent to my house. I want to wake up just to listen to my mom splashing water in lawn she tenderly grew up. I want to be back to the place where I get late for school just because I’m completing the unfinished homework that’s going to throw me out of the class yet again. I really want all that when I am leaving for work. Since when did all this add up in the priority list??
The train stops only two minutes at this station. It’s not a junction. Every time I try and find a reason for this guilt that takes me in, just to occupy myself on the way, so I am tired enough, I only have to sleep to wake up in the city of my college, or for this time the city where I have to go to work! I leave with a strengthened promise to be back for good. And I really mean it every-time.






Monday, October 31, 2011

Vasant Heights


She had this aura all around her. Some would mistake it for arrogance but Vani very well distinguished the thin line between self esteem and conceit. The former being of utmost importance to her and the latter a mere word in the dictionary. But today this face did not have that charm. Something had disturbed her terribly and her heart would not be at peace until she set things right. She did not like the feeling of being ‘not right’. She could not sleep even for a minute after the phone-call last night. It was a Pune number 020… something,  how could she not remember the std code?? The call started in a little surprise… a lot of excitement, recollection and then disappointment. She would not talk, would not eat and not utter a word. All she did was to pack her tiny travel bag and catch the first train in the morning.
She got down the train, still with the same expression like a zombie, came out of the main exit and hired the taxi. “kaka Kothrud la zaanar aahe”, the driver could not understand how this typical outsider “north Indian”, could so fluently talk in his language. She enquired about all the new developments, the old roads, she could connect to the city so well. But after every small while she kept reassuring herself something.  As she got down of the taxi and walked with a quick pace towards the main gate of the ‘Vasant Heights’ ,she was lost in her thoughts, memories from 10 years back. Flashbacks of the past were so vivid. The road was just how it looked when she first came here. She noticed the watchman, he was the same man, she could not recall his name. She distinctly remembered how they always troubled him past midnight hours. “College life” , she smiled to herself, “when were we ever back home before 12?”. The (now)old chap, was always fast asleep at the gate when these people used to come back home. “Home”, she thought “how could I forget this was home once”. ‘Kasakae Kaka?’ The man looked up and in an astonished tone said ‘Barr aahe’, clearly he did not recognize her. She smiled and had barely walked a small steps when she saw that withered bench in the corner under the tree.
Continue reading..
                

Monday, August 8, 2011

STRUGGLE


Problems are not my issue, fear it is.
There has to be a start, the beginning to an end, -
End to the might of fright,
 Like a creeper I rose tall and wide, but not without support.
Rose to the heights, smiling at the sunshine, -
Pretty but frail,
I lost focus and there was someone to magnify my aim,
I fell and had hands to lift me and buck me up,
Friends, philosophers, guides, have helped me rise and shine.
But rising is no more my aim; standing firm is.
I refuse to take assistance,
A helping hand will do more harm than good.
Friends, philosophers and guides is not what I need,
Predicaments are not simple any more, to explain,
What is the need to explain?
Let me fall, let me cry, but let me reach out to myself.
In the darkest corners of mind does one find illumination.
I want to touch the light, that, that shines within me.
What if the world thinks I am able, let me realize I have it in me.
For, its just I who knows what I am.
The fear of drowning has taught me to swim,
Let me touch the danger; let me know what it is to stand up on my own.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Heal Your Soul


“ Its not about coming home with an award to prove it to others, its about knowing in your heart that u won!’
How many of us relate to this postulation? I don’t. Maybe I am not enlightened enough to understand the fact. As, for me happiness comes not from what I think of myself but by what others think of me. I am too earthly to understand the complexity of this statement. But I ask myself the question did I ever give myself a chance to prove myself in my own eyes. Will I ever stop proving myself to others and start doing things what I feel is right. Yes I have, but all these times I have in turn faced unacceptable reactions from the society. But why do such reactions disappoint me? It is because I seek for their consent. For once if I give myself credit enough to decide for myself what is right and what’s not, then surely and slowly I will put my belief in the above postulation.
“I am a winner at heart”, because with a clear conscience I know what I am worth. These might seem as bookish and not applicable practically. But, it is a universal truth that the man who thinks high of himself always stands upright in all adversities. Not only having ‘self esteem’ is tough, but also holding onto it in testing times. But how far can we take this self esteem and not allow it to get on our head and maintain the fine line between self esteem and pride is more important. And even more important is not to overrate our own selves. Because overrating might lead us to a downfall, we might just make efforts but all in the wrong direction. “Its easy to progress, but its difficult to make it in the right direction” –JRD Tata.
In this busy life one should give one a chance to sit in quiet and listen to one’s heart, know what’s right, act accordingly and please oneself not others. As, the inner voice is never wrong. It is said that the subconscious mind has the capability to cure fatal diseases like cancer. So, this subconscious mind will surely help us in believing in ourselves.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

ESCAPIST



Run into the open field,
Fresh with sparkles of morning due,
Break free the yolk of wants,
Impervious to the rough wind,
Unaware of the exogenous influence,
Pristine knowledge within,
Individual but part of the whole,
Intense, not shallow,
Wish I could be an escapist from the traditional,
Be not what I want to, rather what I am,
Unmoved by circumstances,
Igneous and not met-morphed with age,
 …The wish truly wished – To be an Escapist.