Lie with me..

They were tired of spending time in that mall. It was a Sunday afternoon and a social norm was that couples of their age went out together and shopping. They had been following this for long and were now pretty bored of it. "I want to go and check out the new collection of jewellery in that store", said she. He didn't seem too interested but did not let that appear on his otherwise stagnated face . Maybe these are the virtues of a good husband that he had learnt from 17 years of his marriage. "Lets go..maybe they have that designer ring that you were looking for!". She didn't seem too pleased with the comment. She knew it was a taunt coming from him as the last time she had gone looking for that perfect design that she wanted but none of them would fit her finger. Maybe the cold was making her fingers a bit fatter, she thought. In any case she still wanted to try if she could that ring for herself and decided to go ahead inspite of his taunts.


He had decided to look for some good trousers instead of being with her while she shopped and told her so. She didn't mind it. Maybe she wanted that peace too. Back then it was an arranged marriage and soon after they had developed a comfortable and extremely loving relationship. So many years and now with their daughter having moved out of their place, it sure had become lonelier.


She had been trying all those rings at the jewellery counter of the store but seemingly again none of them fit her. She felt depressed. An urge to go back home sprang up in her and she looked around for him. Not having found him she went back to the trousers section to wait for him there. He came out of the trial room with a disgruntled look on his face. The trousers wouldn't fit him again. It was no use shouting at the salesman as he had done last time. They looked at each other. She had grown wrinkles and his paunch begged to tell his age.


She went close and they both hugged each other tightly.


He liked the smell of her hair. She knew that his arms always fit her perfectly.

Of Ghalib and of wishes..

ना था कुछ तो खुदा था, कुछ ना होता तो खुदा होता, डुबोया मुझको होने ने, ना होता मैं तो क्या होता.
हुई मुददत के ग़लिब मर गया, पर याद आता है, वो हर एक बात पे कहना के "यूँ होता तो क्या होता"..

जिंदा हूँ..

कोई नहीं, कोई भी नहीं जो बतलाये,
कितनी देर उजालों की राह देखें
कोई नहीं, है कोई भी नहीं
ना पास ना दूर..
एक यार है दिल की धड़कन
अपनी चाहत का जो ऐलान किये जाती है
ज़िन्दगी है जो जिए जाती है
खून के घूँट पिए जाती है
ख्वाब काँटों से सिये जाती है..

जागती रातें..

जी ढूंढ़ता है घर कोई दोनों जहां से दूर,
ना आपकी ज़मीन, ना मेरे आसमां का नूर..

ना जाने क्यूँ..

कुछ दर्द सा था सीने में, कुछ थी इन आखों को तलाश,
कुछ तेरे आने से पहले, कुछ तेरे जाने के बाद..

What Dreams May Come..

I took off all the posters on my wall mercilessly...some of those sticky notes as well on which were written the randomest of things ever thought of. I don't know why I was in such a hurry. I shoved my stuff in some suitcase..ended up with a couple of handbags as well. I walked out of my room only to find absolutley no one around. I waited but for some reason, the whole campus is deserted. Zilch. I pulled along with my stuff trying to spot a face, familiar or otherwise -anyone..but cannot. I reached the end of hostel corridors and the last I remember is turning back to still expect someone, anyone. I wake up.

And this was not it..I have been having the weirdest of dreams for the past few days. Not so normal for someone who is used to a dreamless sleep for a majority of his life. Definitely the occasional good and the occasional bad ones are there but never with such frequency and never with such consistency in their outcome. To think of this as an aberration is something I have been forcing myself to do but how do I convince myself ? I was once told that you cannot dream of your own death in your sleep and thats because your brain interprets is as the "death" event and stops functioning. Seemingly, the brain has no issues in coming close to that event or atleast thats what it made me feel. Is it all an outcome of change? Blunt as it is, I have forced myself to change beyond my wishes. It does make me look back at a different me often asking questions to which I have no answers.

Why but then the other day I dreamed of a future life where I tried calling up people to meet...to see them once but they did not agree. It all came back to me...the convenience of being around people and a chatter here and there only because it was in the moment, it happened. And as soon as that convenient relationship ceased to exist, I seemingly vanished in thin air. And what about the one where I just dreamt of being in a pit and shouting for help. I think I saw faces, known faces and I begged, I pleaded to get me out but they did not. Maybe they did not hear me or maybe thats what I chose to believe... All I know is if I were to do a Freudian interpretation of my dreams, its not at all pleasant.

How vulnerable can you be to have these desperately obvious dreams? What separates the courageous attitude from a stuck-in-reverse life? I have reached a phase in the life for the third time when I am as nostalgic about God knows where and what as I ever could be.

The last one, I dreamt of a walk. A long walk and I am talking, baring all that I know, all that I wish and all that I want. It seemed I had never been so frank...not even to myself as I was being then. I saw the Water tank from this campus...I saw a familiar coffee place. And then I turned to see who was I talking to.

There was no one. I had a bleeding arm and a lit cigarette.

एक डायरी के अधूरे पन्ने - 2

सहमा सहमा डरा सा रहता है,
जाने क्यूँ जी भरा सा रहता है..
एक पल देख लूँ तो उठता हूँ,
जल गया सब,
ज़रा सा रहता है..

..एक डायरी के अधूरे पन्ने.

कभी किसी को मुकम्मल जहां नहीं मिलता,
कहीं ज़मीन तो कहीं आसमां नहीं मिलता..

जिसे भी देखिये वो अपने आप में गुम है,
जुबां मिली है मगर हम जुबां नहीं मिलता..

तेरे जहां में ऐसा नहीं की प्यार न हो,
जहां उम्मीद हो इसकी, वहाँ नहीं मिलता..

Worth.Less.

A story well written across the margins of an over-read tattered book called life. The plunders of a job, you thought, well done. The moments you pawned in the hopes of leading a worldly pursuit. And the faceless voices that mock the riches you thought were yours. Was it worth it after all?

It’s not easy to be me..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EYoedRejHJ8&feature=related

I can’t stand to fly,
I’m not that naive..
I’m just out to find
The better part of me..

I’m more than a bird…I’m more than a plane
More than some pretty face beside a train
It’s not easy to be me

I wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie
'bout a home I’ll never see 

It may sound absurd…but don’t be naive
Even Heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed…but won’t you concede
Even Heroes have the right to dream
It’s not easy to be me 

Up, up and away…away from me
Well it’s all right…You can all sleep sound tonight
I’m not crazy…or anything… 

I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naive
Men weren’t meant to ride
With clouds between their knees 

I’m only a man in a silly red sheet
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street
Only a man in a funny red sheet
Looking for special things inside of me 
inside of me ...... inside of me ...

I’m only a man in a funny red sheet
I’m only a man looking for a dream

I’m only a man in a funny red sheet
It’s not easy ... 

It’s not easy to be me...

एक कहानी..

बात शायद उन दिनों की है जब मैं class 5th या 6th में था। पता नहीं क्यूँ लेकिन हमेशा मुझे सड़क के किनारे दिखाए जानऐ वाले जादू टोने या फिर किसी सपेरे के साँप का खेल या ऐसे ही बाकी बचकाने दिखने वाले खेल तमाशों का शौक रहा था। हाँ, बन्दर का खेल देखना मैंने तब बंद कर दिया था जब ऐसे ही एक बार एक मदारी का तमाशा देखते देखते बन्दर ने मुझपे झपट कर मेरे हाथ पे एक अपने प्रेम भाव की निशानी छोड़ दी थी। शायद आपके भी हाथ पे टाँके लगेंगे तो सारा पशु पक्षी प्रेम वहीँ धरा का धरा रह जाएगा। खैर, ऐसी चीज़ों की तरफ़ मेरा बढ़ता ध्यान देख के घर वालों ने मुझे काफी पहले से ही समझाना शुरू कर दिया था की ये सब तमाशे जादू वगैरह सब हाथ की सफाई होती है और शायद घर में सबका थोड़ा religious bent of mind होने की वजह से भी शायद मुझे यही सिखाया गया था की किसी भी चमत्कार पे भरोसा करने से पहले उसकी सच्चाई को जानने की कोशिश करो। एक १०-११ साल के लड़के को इतनी बातें समझ में आती होती तो शायद आधे नोबल पुरस्कार अंडर-२० मिला करते...सो भूमिका बांधते बांधते मैंने शायद आपको ये समझा दिया की मुझे ये सब बहुत पसंद था!

जहाँ तक मुझे याद पड़ता है, स्कूल से ही लौट रहा था। सड़क के किनारे भीड़ देखी तो मन मचल उठा। पास जाने पे पता चला की कोई बाप बेटे की टोली है और कुछ तो खेल तमाशे दिखा के लोगों से पैसे बटोरना चाह रहे हैं। शायद हमेशा से यही सीखा था की ये जादू, ये चमत्कार कुछ नहीं होता और जो लोग दिखाते हैं वो बस लोगों को उल्लू बनाना चाह रहे होते हैं, सो इसी वजह से ऐसे किसी भी खेल को मैंने उतनी ही skepticism से देखा है जितनी एक मेरी उम्र के बच्चे के बस में था। मुझे छोटा होने का एक फायेदा ज़रूर मिला की मैं किसी तरह इधर उधर से निकल के, सबसे आगे पहुँच गया। तब शायद वो एक खली गिलास में दूध भर जाने वाला जादू दिखा रहे थे। मैंने ये कई बार देखा था और शायद मेरे आस पास खड़े लोगों ने भी। तभी तो कोई सिक्के फेंके जाने की आवाजें भी नहीं आई। दरअसल ऐसे खेल दिखने में जो गिलास या जो भी accessories काम में आती थी वो आते जाते किसी न किसी मेले में कोई एक आध दुकानदार बेच ही रहा होता था। मेरी अपनी ही कहानी थी, मैंने शायद तभी ही कुछ दिन पहले "छोटा जादूगर" नाम का सीरियल देखा था, शायद कुनाल खेमू का पहले टीवी सीरियल, सो कुछ वैसा ही देखना चाह रहा था। उस बाप बेटे की जोड़ी ने फिर से कुछ खेल दिखाना शुरू किया। इस बार एक हाथ में सिक्का रख के दूसरे हाथ में अचानक से उसके आ जाने जैसा कुछ था। लोगों में थोडी सी भी उत्सुकता जैसा कुछ नहीं बचा था। मौसम की भी शायद इसमे भागी दारी थी। दोपहर के २ बजे, चमचमाती धुप में घर के बाहर बहुत ज़्यादा लोग नहीं पाये जाते।

मुझे बुरा लगा रहा था उस बाप बेटे की जोड़ी के लिए, पर अपनी तरफ़ से मैं असहाय ही था। न ही मेरे पास अपनी गुल्लक थी जो की मैं कुछ पैसे निकाल के उन्हें दे देता और न ही मुझे घर से पैसे मिलते थे बाहर कुछ खाने के लिए। हम पढ़े लिखे लोगों का एक बहुत पुराना तरीका होता है किसी भी तरह के guilt से अपने आप को अलग करने का। हम बहाने ढूंढ लेते हैं की हम फलां काम इसलिए नहीं कर पाये या उस वजह से नहीं कर पाये। खैर जो भी था, शायद उन बाप बेटे की लाचारी कुछ हद्द तक मेरी समझ में आ रही थी। इतन गर्मी में, नंगे पाँव नंगे बदन कोई भी बाप अपने बेटे को नहीं देख सकता। गरीब शब्द का मतलब शायद हम कभी इतनी गहराई से नहीं समझ सकते जितना की ये देख के की जब ८ साल का एक लड़का अपने बाप की गोद में लोरी सुनके सोता हुआ नहीं बल्कि बाप के इशारों पे इधर से उधर कूदता हुआ फांदता हुआ....दर्शकों का ध्यान बांटने की कोशिश कर रहा है। क्यूंकि शायद उसे इस बात का एहसास है की अगर आज इस तमाशे के बाद पैसे नहीं मिले तो उसके घर में कोई भी खाना नहीं खा पायेगा॥

लोगों को जाता देख उस बाप के दिल में ना जाने क्या आया की वो ज़ोर से चिल्लाया..."आज आपको दिखाऊंगा पहली बार, एक ऐसा चमत्कार जो कर देगा किसी की बोलती बंद। कलकत्ते का जादू है ये आपके शेहेर में नहीं पहले आया। जिसमे है हिम्मत, वो आगे आए....और फिर देखे अपनी आवाज़ को मेरी मुट्ठी में समाये"। एक निहायत ही पतला दुबला आदमी आगे आया पर शायद कुछ लोगों को शक हुआ और उन्होंने कहा की ये तुम्हारा ही आदमी लगता है, ओई और ढूंढो। उस तमाशाई की आँखें भर आई थीं। शायद उसे पता चल चुका था की आज फिर उसके घर में चूल्हा नहीं जलेगा। हार के मरी सी आवाज़ में उसने कहा की है किसी में दम जो आगे आए। लोग उसके फन को मानने को तैयार तो नहीं ही थे पर ख़ुद किसी में हिम्मत भी नहीं थी। शायद डरते थे की कहीं सच में आवाज़ चली गई तो। पता नही मेरे दिल में क्या आया, की शायद जब मेरे ऊपर वो अपना जादू नहीं चला पायेगा तो उसका भांडा फ़ुट जाएगा या फिर यूँ ही अपने आप को एक जादू के खेल में शामिल होता देखने की ख्वाहिश ने मुझे अपना हाथ उठाने पे मजबूर कर दिया।

वो जादूगर की कुछ समझ में नहीं आया, उसने मेरी तरफ़ घूर के देखा। उसने अपने बेटे को हाथ में कुछ काला कपड़ा देके कुछ समझाया और उसका बेटा मेरे पास आ खड़ा हुआ। बाप और बेटा शायद दोनों ही जानते थे की इस खेल का कोई फायेदा नहीं है इसलिए मन मसोस के ही उसने अपने बेटे से कहा की मेरे हाथ पे काला कपडा बाँध दे. वो चिल्लाया की उसके तीन तक गिनते ही मेरी आवाज़ बंद हो जायेगी और मैं अभी भी वापस जाना चाहूं तो जा सकता हूँ। शायद डर सा गया था की कहीं लोग फेंके हुवे पैसे भी न उठा लें। पर पता नहीं मेरे मन में कया था की मैं वहीँ रुका रहा। आख़िर इतना तो जानता ही था की ऐसा कुछ होना मुमकिन ही नहीं था इसीलिए शायद डर भी नहीं लगा।

कांपती आवाज़ में उसने कहा "एक...दो..." मेरी नज़र उसके बेटे के पेट पे गई...जिसपे मांस कम और हड्डियाँ ज़्यादा नज़र आ रही थी। "तीन...!!!"

..और मैं गूंगा बन गया ।।

Friendship - A plagiarized essay that wrote me

"Friendship is an involuntary reflex. 

I have always been big on friendship. Disproportionately big. I guess in most normal and structured lives everything fits in their own beautiful, snug, appropriate little places, and friendship has its own feel-good and convenient slot, rather like the best guest room in the house, just east of and one level down from the splendid master bedroom of eternal love. But for me, it has been different, and sometimes it feels like my house of life has been built pretty much with the dubious cement of real and assumed friendships. It has found its insidious way into the foundation plinth, the pillars, the floor, walls and roof. Its presence so ubiquitous, that it has perhaps turned completely unhealthy. Not just for me, but also for my family, my romantic interests and even occasionally for some of my more unfortunate friends. Like some, who love(d) me more intensely than others - or perhaps hate(d) me more despairingly than most - said: "Your friend fixation will ruin your life, sweetheart. Get a perspective!" Ah well. Advise. Often the worst gift from the best-intentioned folks. 

Friendship. Such a feel good word, conjuring up images nice and warm: get-togethers full of resonant laughter and palpable happiness in some warm, summer evening, on an open terrace somewhere far away from the city bustle; shared beers and confidences in a dark and cozy pub, as the skies open up in a torrential downpour outside and the jukebox plays an old Doobie Brothers favorite; shoulder to shoulder, battling common odds, and the euphoria of victories earned together, or even the shared blue note of an occasional setback; an open road, wind in the hair, a sense of freedom, togetherness. 

Yes, good times. With some people it's just easier to find than with others, I guess. And perhaps given a simple spark of potential affinity between two people, sometimes everything else in the universe conspires to push them together as friends. Maybe they would share the same immediate future, having met on the first day in a new college hostel. Maybe they share a common interest, finding the deepest connection in their love for Pearl Jam and Eddie Vedder's grungy, dark tones. Maybe they fight for the same cause, espousing it with the same intensity, at least for the next few years and until something else catches at least one of their fancy. Or maybe its much more subtle, like just a particular sense of humor, that makes conversations easy, fun, relaxed, natural. And a bond is struck, unsullied by expectations or anxieties that mar almost every new romantic liaison, free of the desparate burden of duties that family can often impose. Another friendship is born. Another journey begins.

And while the good times do certainly roll for most such friendships as the wheels of time trundle along, I suppose the nature of every friendship finds unique character in the way it evolves. The earth grows older, and we grow with it, each in our own unique ways, sometimes so slow, sometimes faster, and our friendships change and grow with us. Some friendships ignite and then die away real quick, forever forgotten. Some spit and sputter, like a damp wood trying to catch fire, but carry on regardless, for far longer than you could imagine. Some turn darker with age, growing painful like an ingrown toenail, poisoned by our own frustrations, misunderstandings and jealousies. And only a few grow roots that inexorably keep digging deeper and deeper into our souls, friendships that sometimes outlast a lifetime. But hey, those are the rare ones. Most of your friendships today, despite the joy it brings you now, will most probably fade away the day after tomorrow, leaving just a unique set of footprints in the slowly shifting sands of your life.

Such a tragedy. Nothing lasts forever, I suppose, and not just in the cold November rain. 

And as the earth spins around, days pass slowly by, and years flash past, I try and not lose sight of my own self, as I myself grow, change, and morph, sometimes willingly and in directions that I want to explore, and other times unwittingly, along ways from where I struggle to return. And when I find time to breathe, I look around me, and see everything and every one of my friends change too. Some grow in different ways than I, veering off in directions that shall never be mine. Some get lost, mired in the quicksands of frustrations, misfortunes, self loathing, and pride. Them I watch, in futile sadness, trying to clutch on to the fond memories of the good times together, yet somehow dispassionate at the silent end of an era of friendship, resigned to a strange portent of inevitability. Other friends, miraculously somehow, remain, changing spontaneously also in the pretty much the same ways as I do, across the tortuous terrains of time, in step, in spite of long periods of separation, or despite intense shared tribulations that strain the relationship's every fibre. More out of accident than out of any individual effort of our own engineering, these are the friendships I remain thankful for. 

And I realize, not only are true friendships born of involuntary reflex, but they are, in spite of all differences of our unique circumstances of evolution and misguided wanderings across life in search for our own identities, ultimately the true gifts of our destiny. Raise a glass of cheer with me, my friends, past, present and future, who read this now, in a toast to that most treasured accident of our fates: friendship!"

Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop

I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you
Yes there's a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you..
I've seen the paths that your eyes wander down
I want to come too..

I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you..

No one understands me quite like you do
Through all of the shadowy corners of me..

I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop
I love so much..
All of the while I never knew
I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop
I love so much..
All of the while I never knew

I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you
Yes there's a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you.
I've seen the waters that make your eyes shine
Now I'm shining too

Because oh because
I've fallen quite hard over over you

If I didn't know you, I'd rather not know
If I couldn't have you, I'd rather be alone

I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop
I love so much..
All of the while I never knew
I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop
I love so much..
All of the while, I never knew

All of the while , all of the while
It was you..

How hard can it be to pen down your thoughts in to one cohesive paragraph. Few minutes, few hours, few days? Tried changing languages...starting off on atleast 6 different thought offshoots. Nothing worked. Nothing works. Its definitely not a writer's block...for when was i a writer anyway. There are things about the place, the people, the ways - everything - that need a good description for myself to be reminded of in the later years.

And staring at the screen for 20 mins now...but nothing...zilch. I should stop writing at all.

There is so much that I have to write, that I must write, just get out of me. But I don't know what is keeping me from it. As of now, its 4 A.M. I should be long asleep but I am not. And for some reason its music again that has taken over me right now. And lost in it I just wonder about all those who know me, if they know me at all. 

I shall have a regret though. They never understood me. They thought they did but they never did. I wish this was not the case.

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame

She slept a summer by my side
She filled my days with endless wonder
She took my childhood in her stride
But she was gone when autumn came

And still I dream she'll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.

Nervous sigh..

It all seems like a mirage. I have no clue why. It was real till sometime back. But something stole it.

And then she found..

She looked for that one person to confide in,
She looked for that one person to lean on,
She looked for that one person to shout at,
She looked for that one person to be liked by,
She looked for that one person to love,
She looked for that one person to hate,
She looked for that one person who would understand,
She looked for that one person who would protect,
But she looked for that one person.

And then she found them.

Anonymous Speak..

"Inherent inability to accept the truth often results in situations that destroy the sanctity of the past. For as soon as the future misaligns itself from the past, a new untreaded path is visible. There are few who walk on it and achieve what they set out to but forgot that they always wanted to. And then there are others who are never talked about." - Anon.

Meet Me on the Other Side..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=07N_v7Q1A1s

Meet me on the other side
Meet me on the other side
I'll see you on the other side
See you on the other side

Honey now if I'm honest
I still dont know what love is
Another mirage folds into the haze of time recalled
And now the floodgates cannot hold
All my sorrow all my rage
A tear that falls on every page

Meet me on the other side
Meet me on the other side

Maybe I oughta mention
Was never my intention
To harm you or your kin
Are you so scared to look within
The ghosts are crawling on our skin
We may race and we may run
Well not undo what has been done
Or change the moment when its gone

Meet me on the other side
Meet me on the other side
I'll see you on the other side
I'll see you on the other side

I know it would be outrageous
To come on all courageous
And offer you my hand
To pull you up on to dry land
When all I got is sinking sand
The trick aint worth the time it buys
I'm sick of hearing my own lies
And loves a raven when it flies

Meet me on the other side
Meet me on the other side
I'll see you on the other side

Honey now if Im honest
I still dont know what love is..

A Life Wrap please..!

"Another mirage folds into the haze of time recalled,

And now the floodgates cannot hold"

As a kid he was like most others, maybe better. 

Get up, go to school, be the ideal student - the good friend, come back, do the homework, rush off to play, come back, watch TV and sleep. And then he grew up. And he grew up to be this man sans ideals. He grew up to be a fake. He grew up to be someone even he didn't want to be. 

He missed his childhood. But they said he had a great life. And then he fell. And then he died.

His childhood misses him now.

Aisi Sazaa..

Aisi Sazaa Deti Hawaa
Tanhaai Bhi Tanha Nahi
Neendein Bhi Ab Sone Gayeen
Raaton Ko Bhi Parwaah Nahi

Aise Mein Baarish Ki Boondon Se 

Apni Saanson Ko Sehla Bhi Do
Badhti Hawaaon Ke Jhonko Se 

Dil Ko Naghma Koi La Bhi Do

Palkon Ki Koro Pe Baithi Nami Ko
Dheeme Se Pighla Bhi Do

Ye Zindagi Aisi Hi Thi
Tumne Kabhi Jaana Nahi

Jeevan Ki Raahon Mein Aana Ya Jaana
Bataake Nahi Hota Hai
Jaate Kahin Hain Magar Jaante Nahi
Ki Aana Wahin Hota Hai

Khone Ki Zid Mein Ye Kyun Bhoolte Ho
Ki Paana Bhi Hota Hai

Wo Pal Abhi
Waisa Hi Hai
Chhoda Tha Jo
Jaisa Wahin

Aisi Sazaa Deti Hawaa
Tanhaai Bhi Tanha Nahi
Neendein Bhi Ab Sone Gayeen
Raaton Ko Bhi Parwaah Nahi..

You're the first one

With a tired look and a heavy head..he gazed at the door from where she had left. There was no reason required - for when perceptions are mere expectations, reality is but the perception. He could not remember how long it had been. A minute or ten? An hour maybe? Few days...lifetime? The excruciating feeling in his chest made it clear that he could not have survived that long and he merely tried to guess.

They had met at the Visa office, the most uncommon of places anyone would meet anyone worth remembering. But they did. A two hour wait in the queue and then running around the place for a reappointment -because they both had been so involved in chatting around with each other that they missed their respective interviews - made it worth remembering. And they did.

Relationships are funny. Unexplainable and unbelievable connections are attributed to this one word. And so did they. While one drank coffee, even though she didn't like it a single bit; the other started appreciating the difference between a Mid-low rise and a Mid-very low-mid rise jeans. And all this in a way that other was not supposed to know. The talks ranged from roses to weather to politics to love to people to indifferences. 

It had been merely more than a couple of weeks but seemed like a couple of years. Not that they knew anything and everything about each other but it didn't matter. Whenever they talked, they knew the person they were talking to. And it felt like a recollection of everything in their own hearts and minds. 

She was very excited today. More than he had ever seen her. He couldn't help being happy for her for that's how it had always worked for him - not knowing what he was happy for but knowing that she was. "Thank You", he looked up and said to someone high up there who he recently started believing in. She said she wanted to talk to him about something and would tell him if he made her a nice coffee! 

It was only while making coffee in the kitchen, he felt that he was falling in love with her. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life making her happier than she ever was. "Then maybe this is it", he thought to himself. "I am leaving, have to run! Something for you on the table!!", she shouted and he heard her footsteps, leaving. His heart almost stopped. Had she been thinking the same thing? He almost thought about telling it to her but had not thought if he actually would. He felt scared. Nervous. Wanted to shout to stop her but could not gather his voice together.

He went out. There was a wedding invitation on the table. It also said in handwritten letters - "For the first invitee".

थम जा..

How many times have you wished that time could stop? And just so that the moment of pleasure, the moment of realization (or maybe even pain) is long enough to last a lifetime. Funny that we can find inspirations from books, movies, idols...funnier that sometimes it all comes from within. If everything really was within, unleashing it shouldn't have been so difficult. Momentary lapses I call them. Long enough for making some hours of your life worthwhile and short enough to still let the persistent undertone prevail.

Still what justifies writing a blog about just any other day? To think of what really could have been wrong/ right about this day I cannot fathom more than these basic facts. For one, today was a moonlit night...brilliantly moonlit night. Today was Holi...colourful as it was. Today was pretty much like any other day. Maybe.

In the pursuit of desires we lose touch with someone who deserved it the most, someone who longed for it the most - one's own self. And the craving is not often felt but when it is, it is overpowering. Philosophical, as few would label this. But the truth still remains- and I personally can vouch for it- if even a narcissist like myself can feel a disconnect to his own self then maybe there are others too. Or so is the hope. And it is this that makes you seek contentment around you. And disappointment is but the natural course. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PAvgSB_9sfY&eurl

Lyrics to above video:
Step one you say we need to talk
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
You begin to wonder why you came

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you've told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
And pray to God he hears you

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you've followed
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he'll say he's just not the same
And you'll begin to wonder why you came

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
How to save a life
How to save a life

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
How to save a life

Fare you well

Attention seeking disorder of the fourth kind:

Something that, I just realized, is exhibited by writing blogs, updating status messages, talking to people about your problems, their problems and as funny as it sounds...by being nice in front of everyone and here comes the googly, by smiling...and smiling a lot at your bloody expense.

Life sucks. But something tells me, Death is gonna be no better.