एक बार फिर से.....

Hi guys!!! This is my very first attempt at a Hindi poem. So please let me know whether there's any scope for improvement or should I just not attempt writing in Hindi ever again.

And what made me write a Hindi Poem? It was a mail from Bultu dada asking me to give feedback on two couplets, written by him, in Hindi. Its from there I thought that why not Hindi? So, here it is:

वक़्त भी कितना अजीब है कि इसका खेल तो देखो,

लगता है जैसे कल ही कि बात है जब टकराए थे तुमसे उन गलयिओं में,

पर जिस दिन चले गए तुम उन गलियों से मुड़कर,

लगता है जैसे सदिया गुज़र गयी है दरवाज़े पर तुम्हारे इंतज़ार में.

कुछ रंग अभी भरने बाकी है मेरी ज़िन्दगी में,

पिछली बार जो नहीं भरे थे, एक बार आकर उन रंगों को तो भर जाओ.

उस रात से अब तक बाल उलझे हुए है मेरे,

एक बार आकर अपनी उंगलियों से मेरे बालों को सुलझा तो जाओ.

भूल गयी हू आखिरी बार कब मुस्कुरायी थी,

एक बार फिर से मेरे कानो में कुछ कहो और इन होठो पर मुस्कराहट तो ले आओ.

इस भीड़ में अकेले कई बार गुम हो जाती हू मैं,

एक और बार मेरा हाथ पकड़ो और मेरे हमसफ़र बनकर मुझे राह तो दिखाओ.

याद नहीं है आखिरी बार कब सोयी थी मैं,

एक बार फिर से अपने कंधे पर मेरा सिर रखकर कोई गीत गुनगुनाते हुए मुझे सुलाओ.

अब तो आंसू भी सूख चुके है तुम्हारे इंतज़ार में,

आँखें बंद होने से पहले एक बार इन आँखों को अपना चेहरा तो दिखा जाओ.

ना चुड़िया पहनी, ना श्रृंगार किया,

याद नहीं है आखिरी बार कब मैंने आईने में अपना दीदार किया,

तुम थे ही नहीं देखने के लिए मुझे इतने दिनों,

बस तुम्हारी याद मैं मैंने सिर्फ तुम्हारा इंतज़ार किया.

P.S. I'm perfectly alright. I didn't have an ugly break up. It's just my way of writing. So, please so not ask me questions like "What's wrong with you?" or "Are you alright?".

Your Love was a Lie

Shantanu and I are married for three years now. I’d first met him at my cousin Manas’s place eight years ago. Manas was my favorite amongst all my cousins and Shantanu’s best friend. I was more close to Manas than I was to my brother.

For me, it was love at first sight. At twenty, you do believe and fall in love at the first sight. The first meeting was followed by a series of meetings, first along with Manas, then without Manas.

Shantanu was fresh out of MBA and very different from all the twenty year olds at my college. I was very attracted to his shirt, trouser and laptop bag look after work. He was such a welcome change from all the jeans and t-shirt clad guys in my college. He was mature, intelligent, good looking, well read, funny, caring, soft spoken and had a flair for language. Falling in love with him was extremely easy.

It was after two years of knowing each other that he finally asked me to marry him. I was preparing for CAT but with marriage on mind, CAT went for a toss. I’d never wanted something so bad in my life like I did marrying Shantanu.

I’m a Gujarati and he is a Bengali. It was tough for us to convince our parents for our marriage. My parents were strictly against me marrying a fish eating Bengali. And his parents wanted a good Bengali speaking girl with thick, long hair, who made excellent fish curry. I didn’t have any of these attributes. It was difficult, but we stood by each other. Finally, after one full year our parents gave in and we got married.

I knew all of Shantanu’s friends. I recognized each of them when they came for the wedding, except one. She was a woman in her late twenties, very beautiful and flawlessly dressed. I wouldn’t have remembered her had it not been for one thing that she did which others didn’t. Like everybody else, she congratulated us and then she started to cry and ran off the stage. Later one day I asked Shantanu about her. He said that she was an old friend from MBA who recently got divorced and that’s the reason she gets emotional at weddings.

We’d been happily married for over two years now. One day Shantanu urgently wanted to forward an email to his friend and he didn’t have access to internet. So, he called me and gave his password and asked me to forward that email to his friend. While I was searching for that email, I came across an email written about four months ago by some Sameera Sharma. The subject being, ‘I can’t get over you’. I was extremely tempted to read that email but found it inappropriate to do so without Shantanu’s knowledge. So, I just forwarded the email he had asked me to and went back to doing my chores.

While sleeping that night, several times I felt like asking him about that email and Sameera but I refrained.

Next morning, I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. After Shantanu left for work, I signed into his inbox and opened that email. It read:

Dear Tanu,

It’s been exactly two months and three days since we last met, still, I can feel your fingers stroking my face, your lips pressed against my lips and your body entwined with mine. I still remember every word you said about how you love me but you cannot continue this relationship any longer. I know that you decided to cut all ties, but Tanu, I love you. I just cannot get over you. I don’t want you to marry me; I just want you in my life in any form whatsoever. You stay with your wife and your kid, but let me be a part of your life. Please.

Love,

Meera

My first reaction was that of disbelief. Obviously Shantanu couldn’t have done something like this to me. He loved me way too much to cheat on me. I read the email several times in the vain hope to find something which proved that Shantanu had not cheated on me. I tried to read the lines, read between the lines. Then I saw that the email was replied to.

Dear Sameera,

I told you the last time itself that my wife is pregnant. I love you a lot but I can’t continue with this relationship any more. I want to be a good father to my child. I want to give my child a good family and a respectable upbringing. Our relationship will not be healthy for him.

Please stop mailing, messaging or calling me. I do not want to put ideas into my wife’s head. It’s anyways a complicated pregnancy and I do not want to make it worse for her.

Take care.

Shantanu

I remember being in trance for a long time. I didn’t move from the bed at all. Suddenly I heard someone calling my name. It was Shantanu.

“Aaru, are you alright? I’ve been trying to call you from past six hours. What’s wrong with you? Why are you sitting like this?”

“Shantanu, I just want to sleep. Please let me sleep.”

I turned my back on him but didn’t sleep for quite sometime. My mind was flooded with questions and I wanted answers. I had to sort this out. I didn’t know whom to talk to. I decided to meet Manas the next morning.

Thinking about the email, I realized that the Sameera had last met Shantanu on the day of our wedding anniversary. We were to go out for dinner to celebrate our anniversary and my pregnancy. But Shantanu had returned home at one in the night. When I asked him why he couldn’t make it on time, he shouted back at me saying that no one understands him or his pressures or his state of mind. Everybody thinks only about themselves. I found his behavior strange at that time. But now it made sense.

Now it made sense as to why he hated it when I called him Tanu.

Now, it even made sense that why, exactly four months ago he changed mobile service provider.

Suddenly I started feeling sick. I rushed to the bathroom to vomit.

I don’t know when fell asleep. I got up pretty late the next morning. Shantanu was still home.

“Aaru let’s go to the doctor. You don’t look too good.”

“I’m alright. I need to meet Manas. I’ll take a shower and I’ll leave for his place. You didn’t go to work?”

“It’s Sunday Aaru.”

“Oh!”

“You take shower and get ready and then we’ll head for his place.”

“No Shantanu. I want go on my own.”

“Are you alright? You aren’t even looking at me while you are talking to me.”

And it was the first time since I’d read the emails that he touched me and it felt disgusting. I immediately took his hand off my shoulder and said, “I’m good. I’ll get ready, cook lunch for you and leave.”

“You won’t be back for lunch?”

“No. I’ll be late.”

“Oh. OK. Don’t bother. I’ll manage.”

Manas, as usual, greeted me with a warm hug. He immediately sensed that something was wrong.

I couldn’t wait any more. I took Manas to his room and the first question I asked him was that who was Sameera?

Manas looked shocked for a moment. Then he said that she was his batch mate from MBA.

“That means your and Shantanu’s batch mate.” I replied.

“Ya. Obviously. I mean, if Shanu and I were batch mates, then Sameera and Shanu would also be batch mates.”

“Were they going around?”

“Who?”

“Manas, do not pretend like you don’t know what I’m asking. Were they going around?”

“No.”

“Then what’s this?” I threw the mails at him.

He read and reread the mails. His expression changed from that of being stunned to being angry.

“I can’t believe the bastard did that. I just can’t. He had told me that it’s over between them. He used to meet her even after getting married to you?”

He sank in his chair and with a look of despair on his face.

He looked at me and said, “I’m sorry.”

“Would you please tell me everything?”

“See, it’s over now and there’s no point in talking about these things.”

“Don’t you realize that it’s not over? This mail is just four months old.”

“But he replied saying that he won’t keep in touch with her any more.”

“You know what; I think after all this you would still prefer to save your friend’s ass than help your cousin.”

And I started to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Wait, I’ll drop you.”

“No thanks.”

“Please Aarti, let me do that for you.”

“If you really want to do something for me, then please tell me everything.”

“Aarti, is it necessary?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Sit.”

“Sameera was our batch mate from MBA. They fell for each other the day they had met the first time. Their affair lasted the entire MBA programme. Then she joined work and met someone there. She dumped Shanu for him. Shanu was devastated. It was just after their break up that Shanu met you. He liked your company. He enjoyed being with you. You had become a very good friend of his. When all his friends were busy with their lives, you had been there with him and unknowingly helped him lead a better life. When I came to know about you guys I didn’t stop him because I wanted to help him and see him happy. Also, he wasn’t harming you in anyways. I mean he never got physical with you. And you liked him. So, I thought why not? My best cousin and my best friend – it seemed good to me. After two year Sameera got married and the next day Shanu proposed to you. One month after her marriage, that’s just two months before your wedding, Sameera got divorced. Shanu had invited her to the wedding. I don’t know why he had called her. I do not have the least idea. This is the last I heard of her or saw her. This is all I know. I do not know anything about these emails. Aarti, do you want me to talk to him?”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll inform Shanu.”

“Please do not tell him anything yet.”

“I won’t. Trust me.”

“I’ll go to the kitchen and help Mami.”

“Aarti, you trust me, right?”

“I’ll see you later Manas.”

“Shanu loves you Aarti. He takes such good care of you. He’s so much better a husband than most of the guys I know.”

I quietly left the room.

Shantanu called me once. I didn’t answer.

I stayed at Manas’s place that night.

Next morning I got up to find Shantanu at my bedside, ruffling my hair.

“What’s wrong with you Aaru?”

“I’m ok.”

“No you are not.”

“What happened? Tell me Aaru.”

“You don’t love me Shantanu. You never did. Right? You always loved Sameera. I was just a medium of getting over her. Wasn’t I? When Sameera got married and your remaining hope died down, then you decided to marry me. Didn’t you?”

And finally I started to cry. He immediately embraced me. It was weird. I wanted to take his hand off my body, but I wanted him to hold me. The one man who could give me assurance was the one to hurt me. I didn’t know whom else to go to. I’d never given such a big piece of me to anybody else. I wanted to break free of his hug but I was feeling extremely weak and only his hug could give me the strength I needed.

“I want to meet my parents Shantanu. I want to go home.”

“We will go and meet them, before that we need to talk Aaru. Let’s go home. Please. Let me explain everything.”

I left with him. I was too weak to fight, too weak to think.

On reaching home he made me sit and started to talk. I could hear bits and pieces of what he was saying.

“Met in college….. were going around……. she got divorced… called me six months after our wedding… crying… went to comfort…. got carried away… sorry… not in touch with her any more……”

His voice faded. I wasn’t listening to him any more. I could hear his voice but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.

The next time I got up I had a nurse checking my temperature. Shantanu was on the chair at the far end of the room. When he saw me get up he came up to me, held my hand and said, “Aaru I love you.”

I didn’t reply.

I would have gone back to my parents place, but I couldn’t. What would have I told them? The one guy I fought with them for had betrayed me. I wouldn’t have been able to see them in the eye. Being just a graduate I wouldn’t have got a job decent enough to feed my baby and me. So, I stayed.

I bore him a son, Aayush. Shantanu loves him. I’ve never seen him so happy in his life. I’ve not spoken to Manas since. I tried, but I couldn’t. I don’t have an option but to talk to Shantanu. So, I do, for Aayush, for our families and for the society. People think we make a perfect couple, only if they could see the truth behind the smiles.

They say that time erases all scars, but mine are still fresh. Being betrayed and lied to by the person you love the most in the world is very difficult to take.

Now that I look back, everything that Shantanu did for me seems a lie. The times when he held my hand and walked in rains was a lie, the first time he kissed me was a lie, the flowers he bought me were a lie, the confession of his love to me was a lie and the love itself was a lie. The past six years of my life have been nothing but a lie.

I’m paying him back, by being a dutiful wife, for giving me a roof to live under, clothes to wear, food to eat and Aayush to live.

If the greatest happiness in life is to be loved by the person you love the most, then the greatest grief in life is being pretended to be loved by the person you love the most.

A Visit to Paradise

With Indian Independence Day falling on a Saturday, everybody had the entire weekend off. It’s a rare scene in India, as most of the organizations here still follow the ‘six days a week’ work culture. So, everybody I know had made their big weekend plans.
It was a different weekend for me as well. Not for the reason of two back to back holidays. That, I always do. It was different because:
(a) My family and all my friends had their weekend off and they had plans; and
(b) My C. A. Final results were to be declared just before this particular weekend.
I’d refused to join my parents, my sister and my friends for their respective trips because I was sure that I would flunk. And when everybody was out, enjoying, I wanted to sit back at home, regret and sulk. That was my big weekend plan.

But God had other plans for me. On Thursday the results were declared and I’d managed to get through one of the two groups I’d appeared for. As a result of which, I wasn’t in a mood to sulk any more. And now, just like everybody else, I wanted to go out and have a blast on the weekend.
Everyone I know was going in such weird groups that I couldn’t fit into any of them. The only silver lining in the dark clouds was, if Amit’s trip with his colleagues didn’t materialize, then we would go somewhere. On Friday afternoon Amit told me that they aren’t going after all and then began a quick search for places we could possibly visit. And of course, just when I need the internet the most, it is at that precise moment that it has to get disconnected. From my earlier search on the internet, I’d remembered a place called Jawahar. So, we decided to visit the same.
Till midnight Amit was busy searching for driving directions and like that was not enough, he made a route map using Google Earth. I came home only to find that, all of a sudden, of all days, it was today that my PC was not working. With instructions from my engineer cousin, I repaired my PC and then began to make a list of places to visit in and around Jawahar and copying songs on my pen drive.
At 8 in the morning on Saturday we began our ride to the Tribal Village of Jawahar. The road to Wada via Bhiwandi was in a terrible state. By the time I reached Wada, I almost started to regret our decision to visit Jawahar. But once we crossed Wada, we were rewarded. We missed the left turn to Malawane and I’m glad we did. About 5 kilometers from there we saw the one of the most beautiful roads in our country. You are welcomed by a clean, good road, with an expanse of green fields on both the sides. There are hardly any cars or humans to interfere with what the nature has in store for us.

It was the first time during the trip that we decided to get off the car. On stepping out, the first sound that we heard was that of the birds chirping. The first smell we smelt was that of fresh air. A few photographs and realization of being on the wrong path later, we headed towards our destination.

Four kilometers after turning for Malawane we found river Pundalika. You have to see the water to believe how clean it is. All you get to see here is clean white water and rocks surrounding the river. The sound of the fast flowing river was a treat for our ears.

We finally reached Jawahar post twelve and headed straight for lunch. It is better if you do not have high hopes when it comes to the eateries there. We went to Shivneri, a basic eatery with tin roof, plastic table and chairs, stored water for washing and excellent chicken masala. The pleasure of eating hot, spicy and well cooked gauti chicken masala, with roti and kaanda, while it is pouring outside, is something you have to experience to understand. Two chicken masalas, four rotis, two papads and one chai, all for 100 bucks. Good food never got this cheap.

After lunch we took the short path from Shivneri to the New Palace at Jawahar. There’s nothing magnificent or royal about this palace. Still, it’s worth a see. And then, when I was heading towards the exit, Amit insisted we visit the backyard. The view from there is breathtaking. As far as your eyes can see there are green fields and at the end of these fields there are green mountains. The shadow of movement of clouds on these fields is a sight my eyes will never forget.

After walking back to Shivneri, we drove towards Dhabosa waterfalls.

On the way to Dhabosa, we saw a lake and decided to halt there on our way back. Dhabosa waterfall was disappointing. Due to low rainfalls this year, the waterfall was not in its fullest form. A perfect example of how we are ruining the nature.

On our way back, as decided, we stopped by at the lake. The lake is at a two minute walking distance from the road. And it’s a beautiful walk on wet grass. But humans are lazy and destructive. I found people who drove over the grass, till the lake. I could not help but wonder that how on earth could anybody have the heart to ruin such a beautiful place.

The lake is almost deserted. It has clear, transparent water and when sunlight falls on that water, it sparkles like diamonds. We sat on a small rock at the edge of the lake with our feet in the water. In my life of twenty five years, I’ve never seen a place so beautiful and so harmonious. Everything there was in perfect harmony. The colors – green grass, clear water, green trees and green hills. The sounds – flowing water and occasional mooing of cattle. The feel – water flowing against our feet and fishes nibbling at our feet. The place is so serene and so quiet that when Amit clicked a photograph, the sound of the click sounded like a loud noise.

It was one of those few places I’ve visited in my lifetime, where I didn’t want to talk, click pictures or hear music. All I wanted to do was just sit quietly and see, feel and hear the place. Amit, in Shahajahan style, rightly said that this is paradise. Kashmir must be what most of the paradise is made of, but this lake surely must be a small part of it. I didn’t want to leave from there. But like all good things, even this had to come to an end.

The best thing about Jawahar is that it is untouched. The trees, the birds, the cattle, the hills, the mountains, the water, the people, all of them are in their purest form. On visiting Jawahar, you will realise how rich our country is. I've never seen so many shades of green ever.

Do not go there if you are expecting "to see" something. There's nothing to see. There's eveything to experience.

Being twenty five and being single

On being just a few days away from turning twenty five, I decided to take a look at my life - where I was, where I wanted to be and where I actually am. After studying all the details of my life, I realized that I’m more or less content with everything in it except for one, and that is being single.
Honestly, its pathetic being twenty five and being single. Its that age where all your friends are busy with their work and are either married or are definitely seeing someone. Whatever spare time they have, they prefer spending it with their significant other. So, that leaves you with weekends on which you have nothing to do and no one to hang out with. In my case, I actually prefer to work on weekends than sit at home and sulk about not having anything to do on a weekend.
Even when I meet my friends, most of their conversation revolves around their boyfriend/ husband, the last date they went out on, the last time they made out and how awesome it was, the last time they fought and patched up, the simply awesome thing their boyfriend did on their anniversary, etc., etc. And during night overs there is definitely a good night call or sms from them. And what do I have to talk about – my work, my big fight with my mom and my work and my big fight with my mom. So, in their case, its always a “we” and in my case its always a “me”.
In the locals, I find almost all the girls, hooked to their mobiles, talking almost all the time, to their boy friends. Now, I don’t want that for me, but I definitely don’t mind one call a day, just for a few minutes and talk the sweet nothings. I’m sure if I lock my phone in a cupboard for a month, I’ll only find missed calls from two persons at the end of the month, one would be my mother and other, the Vodafone guys reminding me to pay my bill.
So, it’s a little sad. Actually, pretty sad.
It’s not like I have never been asked out. I have been. Just like others do. But the kind of guys who asked me out were not really what you can call of great quality. Actually, all the great guys are either younger to you or are taken. Look at the world around. Every time you see an amazing guy, right next to him you find an even more amazing chick. It’s a law. I wonder why no one ever discovered it or wrote anything about it. Also, when I was twenty, all the twenty year old guys looked shit. And now, just see the twenty year olds, most of them are so smart and look so good. Hmmmmm.... guess that’s what you call life.
So, all I can do right now is attend a lot of weddings, because people are getting married left, right and centre, accompany my friends to buy gifts for their boy friends, listen to my friends, fight with my mom, work and wait. I don’t have much of a choice you see.

These are some of my favourite lines from some of my favourite songs. Just felt like sharing it with all you guys:

“Koi rishta nahi raha phir bhi,
Ek tasveer laazmi si hai”

“Tere bina zindagi se shikwa toh nahi,
Tere bina zindagi bhi lekin zindagi toh nahi”

“Humne dekhi hai un aankhon ki mehekti khushbu,
Haath se chuke inhe rishton ka ilzaam na do,
Sirf ehsaas hai ye ruh se mehsoos karo,
Pyaar ko pyaar hi rehne do koi naam na do”

“Hai tujhe bhi ijaazat,
Khud se kar le mohabbat”

“Mohabbat mein nahi hai farq jeene aur marne ka,
Usi ko dekh kar jeete hai jis kaafir pe dum nikle”

“Aa chalke tujhe main leke chalu ek aise gagan ke tale,
Jaha gum bhi na ho, aasu bhi na ho, bas pyaar hi pyaar pale”

“Jo kahi gayi hai mujhse who zamana keh raha hai,
Ke fasana ban gayi hai meri baat badte badte”

“Bahut khoobsurat hai har baat lekin,
Agar dil bhi hota toh kya baat hoti”

“Ek sau solah chaand ki raatein,
Ek tumhaare kaandhe ka til,
Geeli mehendi ki khushbu,
Jhooth mooth ke shikwe kuch,
Jhooth mooth ke waade bhi sab yaad kara do,
Sab bhijwa do,
Mera who saamaan louta do”

“Yeh daulat bhi lelo, ye shauharat bhi le lo,
Bhale cheen lo mujhse meri jawaani,
Magar mujhko lauta do bachpan ka saawan,
Woh kaagaz ki kashti, woh baarish ka paani”

“Jeene ke liye socha hi nahi dard sambhalane honge,
Muskuraoon toh muskurane ke karz utaarne honge,
Muskuraoon kabhi toh lagata hai,
Jaise honton pe karz rakhaa hai”

“Ye tera ghar ye mera ghar,
Kisi ko dekhna ho gar,
Toh pehle aake maang le,
Teri nazar meri nazar”

“Ban jaayenge zeher peete peete,
Ye ashq jo peeti ja rahi ho”

“Lag jaa gale ke phir ye hasi raat ho na ho,
Shaayad phir is janam mein mulaqat ho na ho”

“Aaj jaane ki zidd na karo,
Hai mar jaayenge, hum toh mit jaayenge,
Aisi baatein kiya na karo”

“Tum hi socho zara kyu na roke tumhe,
Jaan jaati hai jab uth ke jaate ho tum”

“Waqt ne kiya kya haseen sitam,
Tum rahe na tum,
Hum rahe na hum.
Bekaraar dil is tarah mile,
Jis tarah kabhi hum juda na the,
Tum bhi kho gaye,
Hum bhi kho gaye,
Ek raah par, chal ke do kadam”

“Bichad gaya har saathi dekar pal do pal ka saath,
Kisko fursat thaamega jo deewane ka haath,
Humko apna saaya tak aqsar bazaar mila,
Humne toh jab kaliyaan maangi, kaaton ka haar mila”

"Raat haseen, ye chaand haseen, tu sabse haseen mere dilbar,
Aur tujhse haseen tera pyaar"

This is all I could remember for now. All of you are welcome to add to the content. Just leave your songs in the comments and I'll add them to this post.

For all the amazing people in my life

This is dedicated to all the amazing people I've in my life. Those who make my life beautiful and worth living. Those who have been there. Those who know the bad in me. Those who tolerate me. Those who make me believe that no matter how bad the world gets, it still has people who love you with all their heart.

Mumma - She has made us strong, disciplined and is one person who keeps me grounded. Extremely helpful and very lively.

Bapi - The most caring person I've ever come across in my life. Great husband and an amazingly awesome father. If I find a man half as caring as he is, I would consider myself lucky.

Mumma and Bapi - Together, they have inculcated values in us, which have made us better human beings. And they are a great example of couples who are in love with each other even after 26 years of their marriage.

Anu - She definitely is the person I love the most in this world. She is my man-friday, my friend, my partner in crime and a great sister.

Lucy - If you want to know what unconditional love and innocence is all about, get a dog. She has taught me selfless love. You have to see her to believe how cute she is.

Thakuma - Though I'm not on good terms with her for almost 12 years now, I still love her for loving us the way our didun would have, if she was alive then.

Shilpa - She, in one word, is my SOS. I can't imagine how I would have dealt with most of my crap if I didn't have her. She is the only family I have outside my family.

Akhila - Akhi, food and me - its as good as it can get. The biggest contribution she has in my life is that of introducing me to the world of booze. Can never ever thank her enough for that.

Umaima - She is one person who will patiently listen to your shit even when she herself is in deep stinky shit. Very sweet, extremely funny and a great friend.

Shilpa, Akhila and Umaima - Apart from my family, these are the only people I know, who will be there with me even if I'm jobless, diseased, drunk and lying in a gutter. If I didn't have these guys as my first lesson in friendship, I would have never believed in friendship the way I do today.

Sharad, Gopal and Badri - I had to mention these guys together because for me all three of them are one person. My classmates from K.V. Picket, they made the maths and accounts classes so much fun. Very sweet, caring and protective. I just hope that they don't get one of those pathetic sticky type girlfriends who doesn't like me being friends with them.

Prashant - He is my emergency helpline in Mumbai. One person I can call knowing that my call will be answered and I will be helped.

Amit - This guy pampers me like no other. I've had my best laughs with him and have hung out the length and breadth of Mumbai, many a times, with him for years now without getting bored.

Sourabh dada - He is a sweetheart. The coolest brother one can have.

Pintu - He is the guy who understands. Believe me he really does.

Chintu - The one guy with whom I've a great mental tuning. He tells me the truth in the "not so harsh" way.

Sourabh dada, Chintu and Pintu - Thanks to these guys, I've never felt the absence of an elder brother in my life.

Swati madam - A teacher who went beyond being just a teacher.

Having these guys in my life makes living so mush easier for me. I'm more than glad that I've had the privilege of being with some of the most amazing people God has ever created.

Man, Woman and Commitment

On a hot Sunday afternoon, when I'd taken my dog to the terrace to dry her after her bath, I called up a friend to finish and unfinished conversation. In the course of our conversation we ended up talking about what we call the "commitment issues". On thinking about the conversation later during the day, I was compelled to think that what exactly is it with a man, a woman and commitment. It led to me asking three questions to myself. This post is nothing but my answers (which are strictly my opinion) to my own questions.

Q.1. Is commitment essential?

Ans. Yes, it is. It brings security to a relationship. You know that you are investing your time and your feelings into someone who atleast has the intention of being there with you for the rest of his/ her life. Yes, it is a responsibility, a duty, but then without commitment a relationship moves towards nowhere.

Q.2. Do men fear to commit?

Ans. Yes, most of them do. 

Some of them think that commitment would bind the "free bird" in them and therefore want a relationship that has "no strings attached". Then dude, why the hell do you get into a relationship in the first place? You want all the rewards and no penalties (clarification - penalty in their opinion).

Then  we have the second category - the good son. In their endeavor of being the ideal sons they use their heads a bit too much (which, I must say, doesn't work too well in these matters) and decide not to commit for the sake of their family. This sacrifice of theirs, which makes them a hero, actually ruins soemone else's life. One can always find a way. But the question is "Do they actually want to find a way?". Yes, they love their girl, but they don't love her enough to fight with the rest of the world for her. To such men I've just one message - if you don't have the b**** to commit, then please don't enter into a relationship.

Q.3. Are women obssessed with commitment?

Not really. 

There are some women who want commitment from day one. But that's minority. Most of them wait till the relationship matures to a stage where they feel that the time has come to take the next big step. They are not obsessed with commitment, they just want the assurance of supply of unconditional love for the rest of their lives. And let's be practical, women have tremendous societal pressure, at least in our country, when in comes to these matters. That ends up making them much more serious on commitment issues. And when due to the societal pressures a woman ends up getting married to another man, we have "Devdas(es)" in the making.

So, at the end of answering all the three questions I was sure that commitment is definitely a good thing. And seriously, what's the harm in promising to be there for the rest of your life with a person whom you love and understand and who loves and understands you. Only thing is, men should get more open to it and women should give them a little more time.

Mumbai local trains - alongwith lakhs of people they carry lakhs of emotions everyday. 

The other day, whie traveling from Chruchgate to Khar, in an almost empty second class ladies coach, I came across a woman, her daughter and her son. The woman must be not more than 25 years of age, her daughter was around 5 and son less than a year old. 

With her son in one hand and with the help of her little daughter she was selling clips on the train. By the look of it, you could easily make out that she was definitely not leading a good life. She looked tiered and was malnourished. But it was not all this that caught my attention. What caught my attention was, her love for her children. Her son was constantly crying for milk. She didn't look like the one who had loads of it. Actually she didn't look like she had any at all. But inspite of that, she kept shifting her son from her one breast to another in the vain attempt of feeding him. 

On sale of every clip she first kissed her daughter and then made her son play with the money for sometime before keeping it in the purse. I still remember the smile on her rather tiny face everytime she kissed her daughter and saw her son smile.

That's the heart of a mother. She ensures that her children are happy inspite of whatever physical, mental and emotional state she is in.

Also, its only the Mumbai local trains, where you have such close encounter with such beautiful emotions. 

You see, I'd been busy

Its been over ten months since I last updated my blog. You see, I'd been busy. Busy at work - the commuting itself kills me, Thane to Nariman Point, and on top of that the ever increasing stack of files; busy at home - on weekdays, eating and sleeping and on weekends, eating more and sleeping more.

Now that I look back at these ten months, I can't quite figure out what exactly kept me so busy that I couldn't spare an hour a month to update my own blog. Something that I'd created for myself, for my love for writing. Talking about being busy, let me tell you that it took me two months from the day my tooth actually started aching to see the dentist. I didn't have time to attend my friend's wedding at Ulhasnagar, which is barely 45 minutes from my place and I don't have time to teach my mother how to use the computer.

I think there's some profound and underlying connection between growing old and getting busy. Back in school and even in college, we had time for everything we wanted to do and for people we loved. And now all we have is excuses. The best one being, "time is flying by".

The family doesn't have time to have dinner together, some members come in early and some come too late and the ones who come early don't care much to wait for the ones who come late. It takes a wedding or a death in the family to go and meet your relatives, provided your boss grants you leave for the same.

And friends, it takes reunions and weddings, to meet our very close friends from school and college, where we exchange numbers and email ids and promise to keep in touch henceforth. All that number and email id does is occupy a little more space in our phone memory and the day we need to save a new contact and we don't have enough phone memory, we browse through our contact list, find that useless name and delete it without batting an eye lid. You see, we are too busy to think at that time. Yes, when a friend dies, that is when it hits us hard, "the not-keepin-in-touch-with-a-friend thing", but even that realisation doesn't have a long lasting effect on us.

Chuck others, we don't even have time for our own selves. Time to do things we always loved to do, to read the book we have always been wanting to or to go on those long walks or to listen to our favourite song.

Before we realised, life took control of us.

Today I got the time to update my blog only because I'm on my study leave and was getting tiered of my books and just ended up visiting my friends' blogs. On seeing those blogs and the regularity with which items were posted on them, I resolved to update mine today and from now on, regularly. I'm not to sure for how long this resolution will stay. May be till my study leave is on and may be, if I just realise and decide to do something about my life, then forever.