StairwayToHeaven’s Step No. 3

We talk of The Higher World and we don’t talk of Wonderfool Tonight, its simply not possible. A post very close to my heart. A post which made me smile while writing it. One of the first posts to be on The Higher World without a drop of alcohol. A post which is a true anecdote, well almost. A post loved by so many. A post which reminds me of the beautiful things in life..O my darling you look Wonderfool Tonight!

Wonderfool Tonight
May 25, 2006

It’s late in the evening; she’s wondering what clothes to wear.
She puts on her make-up and brushes her long blonde hair.

I walked in the gloomy restaurant. I have always liked these kind of places, dark and intriguing. I was alone for the first time to have dinner in my life, so it was supposed to be one interesting experience. Just as I sat down, I had my glass of water, my head moving in the direction of the emptying glass, rising ever so slowly, pausing just when it was absolute perpendicular to my face. I saw her. I was stunned.

We go to a party and everyone turns to see
This beautiful lady that’s walking around with me.

It is amazing what effect can music have to a particular setting. You move out of your room, see the trees, watch the swinging leaves, come back to lay down on your bed. With absolutely everything same, if you have Fable by Robert Miles playing, you will keep enjoying the dancing leaves for ages. The same is with light, the absence of it has such a magical effect at times, and at times even the abundance of it falls short from providing that special aura. Even a small change in the angle the beam is coming from, can be detrimental in the overall impact of any scene.

Eric Clapton was the company I was looking for I realized just as it started. They say three is a crowd so the candle light floating in a glass of water among rose petals made us four, the candle, clapton, me and the so wonderful she. Though we had a couple of chairs and the same number of tables between us, I could clearly see her sparkling face, shining from the light being showered by the candle. The milky face, the watery eyes, the waving smile, the glossy lips. The darkness all around her face was just enough to make her the most magnificient piece of beauty I have ever come across.

I feel wonderful because I see
The love light in your eyes.
And the wonder of it all
Is that you just don’t realize how much I love you.

Waiters can be irritating at times, especially at those moments when you have much more important errands to cater to. A couple of them standing at my head, one with the bar menu and one with the food menu, I asked for a glass of water, much to their surprise, and to reduce the visible tension on my face.
She started looking at the menu, we almost drank water in resonance. She looked at me, the moment of my life, she blushed, I reciprocated, we smiled and then she was again at the menu. I thought of standing and going to her, ‘Can I join you?’ I decided other wise, to wait for her to do the same. She was also feeling the heat I guessed.
She stood, looked around, baby , noone is looking, walked towards me, looked so excited, I was trembling, smiled for an instance, spread her arms, I am not doing that to start with,
…that was the last time I saw her.

There was a kid in her arms and a husband accompanying him.

It’s time to go home now and I’ve got an aching head,
So I give her the car keys and she helps me to bed.
And then I tell her, as I turn out the light,
I say, “My darling, you were wonderful tonight.
Oh my darling, you were wonderful tonight.”

Two quick beer and I was back home.
Oh my darling, you were wonderful tonight.
Edit this entry.
3 comments to “Wonderfool Tonight”

1.

shabbash, ab mujhe pata chala toon sofa pe kyon baitha tha
by himschwet May 26, 2006 at 8:11 am edit comment
2.

good one.. though i expected the ending.. that was the only thing that could have made it brilliant..
by inhas May 26, 2006 at 11:40 am edit comment
3.

[…] The anecdote of the death of my parents has been a nice thing to tell whenever I am to meet new people which are primarily journalists and TV reporters. I show them lots of things. They are generally fond of my music collection which goes on from nirvana to floyd, from metallica to ghulam ali and from gnr to jagjit singh. They like my writings too, especially the Wonderfool Tonight and Shweet Shweet Memories - I. They are after me to write its second part and I promise them that they won’t have to wait much. Then the initial question is repeated, I knew the moment had arrived […]
by The Higher World » Blog Archive » Coming Back to Life July 23, 2006 at 5:39 am edit comment

StairwayToHeaven’s Step No. 2

Here comes the second one. Ok this post is very very special in terms of the way it was written. Two writers spontaneously writing alternative paragraphs without even looking and talking to each other after buckets of OH radicals down the throats. We had no clue what we were writing and in fact when it was over, it was just over we not even reread it. But a quick glance the next day gave a shock of disbelief after realizing the outcome.
It is one of those special posts which gives a hope of a future with pen as a companion. And it also gives hopes of fiction being written by two people, something which is rare to find. Who was the other writer? I don’t think I need to tell this. And this post is actually a tribute to him.
About the thought process of this post, I might have disclosed it this time if I myself had been clear.

Chinese Checkers
May 30, 2006

I was walking down the lake side yesterday, when I came across this strange child sitting right next to the lamp post. He was having a one rupee coin in one hand and a hammer in the other. There was a candle lit too just next to him. The whole scene was so weird that I could not walkby. I just stood there watching. The hammer was not being used to hit anything, he gently swayed it along his cheeks. He kept tossing the one rupee coin and scratching the candle after every fall. He was poor, perhaps not eaten anything for a couple of days. He did not look like a beggar though. He did not look anywhere else the three things he had. The lake provided the perfect background the whole scene had. You should have been there Connor. Do you find something interesting in this till now or shall I tell you something more?

I was there the other day Rohit and unlike you, as soon as i saw all this i called up Sam, Cornell, Natalie and Jacob and we all sat next to him repeating every action he was performing, within a minute he left the scene, now do u find this inetersting or not ?

Was that you Connor? Ok there was a person with a big hat and a black overcoat, that must be you as his was the face I could not have a look at. So it was you and your friends. I was there, I watched you people and that was the part which I was about to tell you next. Since you know all about it, I ll tell you about the part which you are not aware of. When you people left, you had left all your coins, the child came again, picked up the coins and started laughing, he kept doing it for about 10 minutes, then shrieked as if in some pain and then started crying. I initially wanted to go and just check what is wrong, but I just could not move, there was a sudden darkness, with all the candles extingushing in a flash. There was a strange sound of a whistle, and the child started laughing again. Then there was a strange voice, which seemed more like a howl than a human voice. Now is that interesting or you have something better?

Why did you do it? Because it was incomprehensible, erasing the event, destroying the stage and killing the actors is no solution to satiate your curiosity. You have outgrown your normal self, you have found the keys to your subconscience, you are now capable of memorizing Act I as Act II, but how long will you continue like this, how long will you fool yourself, Rohit you know that i know that who made the strange sound, who howled and whose human voice was it in the end. Why did you do it ?

Ok I know who did all this and you know that too. But what you do not know and did not answer was how did the candles go off. Even if you people did all that, just think of the child, he was so innocent. Your joke ended his life Connor. Do you know that too? I never wanted to tell you this but I took his body and buried it in a peaceful place, you would have never noticed as you were too engrossed with your subconscious, satiating each other at the cost of someone’s life. How many such lives you have taken Connor, I remember burying ten of them.?

See i told you , you are now capable of memorizing Act I as Act II, Rohit you are sick, you have to get over this before i have to bury the eleventh kid.

5 comments to “Chinese Checkers”

1.

speechless…
by leonius May 30, 2006 at 10:46 am edit comment
2.

is it a joint effort again/

anywya, brilliant. like before.
by phoenix May 31, 2006 at 4:40 pm edit comment
3.

What the fuck is this shit? Who the fuck are you jerks? Clearly nutters like actors or artists of some sort. Go and see a psychaiatrist. There are pills for people like you wankers. There are better preoccupations for the human psyche to be enganged in. Cherry Orchard is all very well but you cannot build a finer world on a garbage heap; the foundations will subside. cyquick.wordpress.com
by Cy June 18, 2006 at 4:09 pm edit comment
4.

how i wished u changed the end a little…a broken dream is far more painful than death…or was death related in some way to something else…will have to go thru other posts to fugure out
by tomar June 20, 2006 at 3:33 pm edit comment

StairwayToHeaven’s Step No. 1

As another year ends, I thought this blog needs a recap. Writing this blog has been a roller coaster of emotions, with such a varied variety of fiction. Some people ask me what inspires these posts, where does the thought process come from. But the people close by know, I won’t be revealing that. I am too happy and content being myself, with myself.

With your permission, I take a quick look at some of the better things which were wrote on this blog some time back. Everyday until the next few days I would repost some of the earlier writings available here, along with the comments.

To me, this series is the Best of The Higher World. For you, it can be just another feeling of Deja Vu.

Keep Commenting.

Acting the Act
October 25, 2006

I was here in the evening too. The big curtains are still there, the stage hidden behind them must be waiting, for the foot taps to vibrate it, for the artistes to come and start their chores, creating magic, those moves, those thumping dialogues, that hysteric dance on trance, and for the audience to stand, to stand and to clap in unison, a few tears rolling over, some babies silent out of shock and some like me waiting to be there, there on that very stage waiting for the people to go and be the god, myself.
Shhhhhhhh….There is not much time in hand. Lights off. Oh, I ‘ll have to do it myself. Wait…K, now it seems nice. Pitch dark. The audience waiting for the curtains to open, there are butterflies flying around in my small stomach. I should not feel nervous. Open the curtains, slowly. Do it fast, the audience might lose its patience. There is noone to do that too. I ‘ ll run myself again. Here they go, moving apart, just like when a wave ends it offense on the beach, they part away, unknowingly, swift and silent. There should be a follower moving as I move to the centre of the stage, but there is noone to control it. There should be that rear panel lights when I move back in the second scene and the babies helping all the time with different colours of rainbow, which is visible only when u show your back towards the sun and see the rain. But there is noone. But I am here. I can be on the lights. Who will act then? Do we really need someone? Yes we do. Isn’t that why we started all of this? Hmm…Lets drop the idea of lights then. Yes, that can be done, anyway noone is watching.
Lets start the show. Lets start the music. It can’t be. Can we have a round of applause from the audience? This audience is absent when it is supposed to witness the greatest of actors performing in the rarest of rare performances. I’ ll clap myself to begin with. But I ‘ ll need them as I go by, for those sighs and those smiles, those laughters, those whistles, those tears, those shocks, those fears and for that final applause. So I must act as the audience first, that is most important. But isn’t that what I have been doing all my life?

Posted by Harry

Filed in Uncategorized | Edit
6 Responses to “Acting the Act”

1. inhas Says:
October 25, 2006 at 12:10 pm e

“Isn’t that what I have been doing all my life?”

brilliant line…
2. himschwet Says:
October 26, 2006 at 2:24 pm e

this deserves a place in the hall of fame. U cud not have said it in a better way.
3. Harry Says:
October 27, 2006 at 3:32 pm e

@inhas
Bada sa Dhanyavad, as usual..bt i seriously thinking, that is wat most of us do most of the time.
@himschwet
kahan ka hall ban raha hai us par depend karta hai :P..bt Dhanyavad anyway
4. phoenix Says:
October 27, 2006 at 3:45 pm e

Brilliant. I love the title, I love the end and I really love the concept.
Wow!
So sorry I missed it for three days!!!

But it’s said so well that I dont know what more to say, except that sometimes I think we are the lights, camera, actor and audience all at the same time for our life and those around us…
5. Harry Says:
October 27, 2006 at 4:09 pm e

@phoenix
Der aaye durusat aaye, thank you.
Lights, camera, actor, audience all at the same time, i think we need to check each others’ definitions for these.
6. Jaspreet Says:
November 6, 2006 at 3:14 pm e

mind blowing…amazingly ended

And the award goes to..

This is the first non fictional post of The Higher World.

And I would like to thank..A for the Aloo, B for the Bhuna Aloo, C for the Chat Aloo, D for Dum Aloo, E for Egg Aloo, F for Foota hua Aloo, G for Gajar Aloo, H for Hatke Aloo, I for Interesting Aloo, J for Jhootha Aloo, K for Killer Aloo, L for Lamba Aloo, M for Mota Aloo, N for Nanha Aloo, O for Oobla Aloo, P for Paka Aloo, Q for Queen’s Aloo, R for Rajma Aloo, S for Samosa Aloo, T for Tamatar Aloo, U for Ulta Aloo, V for VAT on Aloo, W for What an Aloo, X for Xerox of Aloo, Y for Yakk Aloo, Z for Zamindar Aloo!!

That was some award winning speech!!

Hey Mona

The following musical conversation between a boy and Mona is completely fictional and every resemblance to a Hindi song, Hey Shona from a stud movie Tara Rum Pum, is purely coincidental.

Boy: Hey Hey Hey..Hey Hey
Mona: Hey Hey Hey..Hey Hey

Boy: You must have come to know,
You are the one I’ve fallen for.
From the day this love started,
I keep flying in the air.
You are in my every second,
You are in my today n tomorrow.
Hey Mona, Hey Mona.
Hey Mona, Hey Mona.

Mona: You must have come to know,
What all is there in my heart.
Ok, I am ready to say,
The thing which I have never said.

Boy: You are in my every second,
You are in my today n tomorrow.
Hey Mona, Hey Mona.
Hey Mona, Hey Mona.

Boy: Your yelling on me sounds like love also, I don’t know why.

Mona : Whatever I say sounds acceptance to you, I don’t know why.

Boy: Leave this tantrum, come a little closer, say what your heart wanna…
Hey Mona, Hey Mona.
Hey Mona, Hey Mona.

Mona: Having left the world, I have only loved you, just you.

Boy: The only thing I have ever asked for is you, just you.

Mona: Now on this wish, Now on this road, are you with me, forever?

Boy: Hey Mona, Hey Mona.
Hey Mona, Hey Mona.

Mona: You must have come to know,
You are the one I’ve fallen for.
From the day this love started,
I keep flying in the air.
You are in my every second,
You are in my today n tomorrow.
Boy: Hey Mona, Hey Mona.
Hey Mona, Hey Mona.

Boy: Hey Mona, Hey Mona.
Hey Mona, Hey Mona.

Boy & Mona: Hey Hey Hey..Hey Hey
Hey Hey Hey..Hey Hey

The Walk Talks

Rohit woke up after a marathon sleep of sixteen hours. He needed to smoke. He got up from the bed, pulled out a sweat shirt, put it on, had a quick splash of water on his rugged face and moved out of his apartment, into the street.
The panwala shop, which was the destination, was about two hundred metres and one red light away. He started walking. He had nothing to think about, or that was what he preferred to do while walking. Only the things that formed the present, provided by his eyes and ears, were allowed to have a place in his brain RAM. So what was there now? The clumsy yellow coloured house on his left, a blue van on the road to his right, a black coloured motorcycle on the same road, a couple of kids in school uniform and with heavy school bags walking in his front and a distant traffic policemen on the red light. That was quite a long list of characters. Although the road had loads of other vehicles honking and moving but there is so much that two eyes can see and shortlist, and about the honking vehicles, in the fight of eyes and ears, the usual winner is the pair of eyes only.
He started thinking as he was walking with these characters to play with. ‘What if these kids turn around, face me and start dancing on Beedi Jalaai Le in perfect Bipasha Basu style? And the traffic policeman comes running from the red light, watches the dance, pulls out a ten rupee note, waves it over the kids’ heads and gives it to them. And the car pulls on the reverse gear and crashes into the bike, the biker is jumped out of his seat and falls on the roof of the car and starts clapping for the kids’ performance.’
The scene looked brilliant but there was not the usual smile on Rohit’s face which used to come after the complete picture in mind. Something was missing. Was he able to find out the missing link? ‘Villain! There is no villain in the story at the moment.’ But he could not think of one. He kept walking. He almost reached the redlight to cross the road behind the school kids. They were still dancing in his head.
The kids turned around. The car stopped, so did the bike. The carwala came out, the biker put the bike on a side stand. All of them pulled out something from their bags or their pockets.
They had pistols in their hands. They all frowned simultaneously and shot 2 bullets each.
Someone from the clumsy house put a bucket of water on Rohit’s body.
The End.

The Next Step.

Aasmaan ke paar shayad, aur koi aasmaan hoga,
Parvaton ke paar shayad aur koi ek jahan hoga.

When a kite starts flying, it does not know that its flight can be short lived. It looks at the sun ..And it crashes down.

The Silent Storm

He was on the seashore again. The familiar noise of the people behind him, the familiar silence of the waves in front of him. Everything was so familiar to him that the contrast itself became so monotonous. He had been seeing and feeling this for so long now. Every other day , he would come here running from the madness of the land, to see the sea.

Bawra mann dekhne chala ek sapna,
Bawra mann dekhne chala ek sapna…

But his feet would still remain on the land rather than moving into the silent waters. It was not that the thought did not occur to him, his only doubt was what if moving to the other side the same feeling would knock on his head again and he would come running from the water to see the land. He will be alone then, noone will be there to even talk to. But he did not do that now also, talking about all of this with anyone.
He kept seeing all in front of him, listening to everything behind him and thinking about both. Light started fading. This was the time, he normally used to start looking back as the vendors will all have sparkling lanterns instead of using the sun.

Bawre se mann ki dekho bawri hain baatein

But today, he did not look back,

Bawri si dharkanein hain, bawri hain saasein,
Bawri si karwaton se nindiya door bhage,
Bawre se nain chahe bawre jharokhon se,
Bawre nazaaron ko takna..

He was preoccupied with all that was going through his mind. As the darkness become heavier, he could see a light on the corner of the sea, where he had never given a look before. Something was flashing far away. It was a lighthouse. There was a smile on his face.

Bawre se iss jahan mein bawara ek saath ho,
iss sayani bheed mein bas haathon mein tera haath ho..

He started moving towards the tower. It was very distant. He would not be able to make it before the sun rises again. He started walking briskly. He would have to be faster. He started running, until the sea came face to face. He had to move through the water. The destination was in his sight. The waters will not be able to stop him, and why were they confronting him, it was for them that he so wanted to be there. But he had his eyes on a brighter thing. He swam across, fighting hard against the forceful waves. He had to reach there. He did. It was made of white marble, which could not be seen from the distance. It looked so magnificient. There were stairs in front of him, when he opened the door in front of him. He was all wet, of sweat and of water. The last step seemed so difficult, but he started climbing, climbing fast, almost running. He reached there. He was on top. He actually was. Now, on one hand was the sea, and on the other hand was the land. Both the sides looked spectacular. He was there, watching all of that, alone. Was it feeling better? he could not answer. Was it feeling special? A lot.

Bawri si dhun ho koi, bawra ek raag ho,
Bawre se pair chahe, bawre taranon pein,
Bawre se bol pe thirakna..

The moon sprang up with full light and there white birds dancing around the light house. A new world, a new neighbourhood, a new hustle, a new life..

Bawra mann dekhne chala ek sapna,
Bawra mann dekhne chala ek sapna…

Again.

From these ashes, not fire, I shall rise again. From these sleeps, not dreams, I shall wake up again.
The pain is a bit too large, a bit too heavy. The darkness is a bit too black, a bit too dark. But its changing, the pain increasing, the blackness accelerating. The light could be seen, a while back.
Its cold out here. I am freezing. The fire is making my life miserable. But everything is changing and the clouds are clearing.
Its moments away. A few moments. A few dozens of them.
But it shall happen. It must happen. It has to.

Someone will come back to life. Again.

Stuck Destinies - I

Big drums beating, dozens of people dancing madly. Drums form the outer circle, the people the inner one. At the centre is a glowing fire, getting brighter with every second. The drumbeats get fast, every thump making the people scream with excitement. The peak achieved, a loud resonant shriek, freezing water poured over the fire. A lake replaces the fire, swaying replaces dancing, humming replaces screaming, violins replace the drums.

That evening, it was raining. Weather has always had a big effect on how I think. And when I am that high, as I was that day, the effect magnifies by a mass proportion. I was alone in the apartment. I still had the urge in me just like the night before. I wanted to have that Vrooooooooooooooooooom, that familiar sniff, that smell, that rush of blood, that lightness of mind, that loud voice of my own heart beating, those movements in my stomach, that decelaration of time, Oh I just could not control myself. But that was not suppose to happen. I had promised myself that it won’t happen again. I did not want my life like this, I did not want to feel wasted, again. It was not to happen, but it had to happen.
The almirah opened, the clothes lifted, the hand mirror and those few miligrams in my hands, again.
Vrooooooooooooooooom. It felt like that.The sound of a car racing by your ears, just that the here the car is not lost into infinity, it goes on and on…Vrooooooooooooooooooooom…till you leave the land and are floating in air.
The time left in my life was running out fast. A clock with receding batteries. It would start at a position, try hard to move on but get back again, wherein the world would have moved forward by an hour. I would start a day, thinking about the night before, feel the pain inside, wash my pale face, see my face in the mirror, the pain used to get bigger. I felt lost, lost in a labyrinth, not a clue to the way out. Although I knew frome where I got in, but it did not matter. I knew I was dying a slow death. But was I afraid? Not really. A few minutes would pass, all the urges back as a fascinating orchestra, playing that familiar enchanting music, and I just did not have any other option than to succumb.

I decided to move out a bit, feel the fresh air, the freezing drops of water and listen to the chores of frequent lightning. I took the lift downwards, my head was still not at 0 kmph, it seemed like hours I had been in that elevator, but finally it opened, ever so slowly and I moved out. The breeze felt so nice and so fresh, as I had never felt that before, I took out a cigarrette and stood under a shade, the shops were all closed because of Sunday, and one confectionary gave me that shelter, from where I could see the twilight, the sun setting, and the street lights starting to gain momentum, the sparkling droplets of water, made the complete scene highly mesmerizing, whose stage was already set beautifully in my mind. I finished smoking and started walking on the road, feeling the light rain in the best way, the lightning made me shine. I stood on that bench where people sat during the evenings seeing the skies, stretched my arms, felt the droplets on my palms, the sky was so dark, and every drop on my face meant a feeling of purity, a sensation unparalleled. If there is something called being on top of the world, I was, at that moment. I felt like a bird without any burden of a companion, I felt free, I felt life.

Was there something which was missing? I guess yes. A man? Perhaps yes, i guess no, no! I wanted to be higher, not on top of this world, even higher, oh that urge was here again, and I wanted to resist it so much. It had been just an hour or so since I last had it. But I guess the moment was so beautiful I did not want to ruin it. The drums were beating again and I just had to had it. I rushed towards the apartment. I was there in the elevator, not alone. And just when I thought I am just some seconds away, there was a power cut!