Decoding life in fifteen minutes.

It was a long tiring day. I slept through most of it, but then emotions can tire you more than any form of physical exercise can. I made a drink, a real strong one, after a long long time. It was nice and effective. I felt like cooking something. I have always liked it; today was different. It was a feeling that you get when you pursue a hobby long forgotten: stamp collecting, maintaining scrap books, coins collecting, playing stapu, thinking uch neech ka paapda, seeing birds ( i wonder where the delhi sparrows have gone, i haven’t seen them for a decade now, and i used to see them everyday ) , spinning tops, etc, etc etc.
I was in the kitchen, and it felt like meeting an old friend. You talk apprehensively to start with, you try to check his or her facial emotions just to get a feel of where its going, dole out a random joke ( which has never made you laugh, but it has certainly made others laugh), see where he or she is looking, listen to what he or she is saying, laugh on a joke you normally would not have, and then immerse in the conversation. It was amazing. The whole experience was very uncordial to start with, but then I got used to it, and then I was rolling the dice. The result : A hot nice smelling chicken biryani. There is nothing more you can ask of an old forgotten friend.

Friends are nice but then only ten minutes were to go, and if no action were to be taken, the moment would have been lost. Some would say, c’mon, you could ve done it the next day, but then, it would have been tomorrow and not today.

We ran..until we found a rickshaw…what timing god!

It ran..until we were there..the shop.

We all started again: the rickshaw, me, the bottle, him, smiles.

We reached.

“How much?” “Twenty.”

“Are you sure?” “Saahab its night time”

Silence.

“Ok, ask for any amount and you will get it”

Silence.

“I am serious, ask for any amount, and believe me for a second..You will get it”

Silence.

“I am serious. Just ask.”

“100?”

The note came out and moved to who wanted it.

He could have asked for a thousand, and he could have still remained at twenty. He could have earned two times more, and he could have earned a heart.

He chose tomorrow, and he could have chosen life.

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.

The Tilted See Saw

So much to say, so much to write, but much more to hear and much more to think.

Acting the Act

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?

Protected: Wonderfool Tonight – The Italian Remix

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The Truth of Death

He loved staring at the shining sun. He loved gazing at the luminous moon too. But it was the sun which kept reminding him of the existence of clouds.

Rear View Mirror

Statutory Warning : The objects appearing in the mirror might look closer than they actually are.

Akshat woke up with a not so normal hangover but a hangover is a hangover. Pouring some lime juice from the can, he thought perhaps he should sleep a bit more, afterall sunday doesn’t come every day. He was in the bed in a flash. Unfortunately or fortunately, his cell rang. Cellphones these days have become the single most irritating commodities in the world. But then sundays are not meant for phone calls. So although there is a general acceptance that incoming is free and that supposedly gives all the more reasons for picking up a call, he decided against it.
Rape me..Rape me my friend
Ringtones are funny these days what with an already vibrating piece of human brainchild so desperate to be raped. But Akshat wasn’t interested. But if something is so willing to get it done, then it can be considered. He picked up the phone. ‘ Call me after 37 minutes’. Was that a part of the dream where in I was trying to find a bargainful call girl or was that for real, he just could not make out. He was about to go into his fleshy black and white adventures when the doorbell freaked out. Just when he was about to get up and kick the ass out of the sunday fucker, he saw a piece of paper being slipped in. It wrote, ‘34 minutes of breath, do it as much as u can’. As if the rape wasn’t enough he wondered. A bit perplexed, he started looking for the calender. It wasn’t April 1. Bugged with all the stupid things happening, he switched on his sleek slilver tv. Mtv has got better with all the faltoo spoofs. Then there was a disclaimer, whatever happens in the next 30 minutes, the channel is not responsible for it. Is there a corelation between all that was happening, it started getting on his nerve. Mtv continued..
Rape me..Rape me again
He switched channels. NDTV. Breaking News. Even a breaking of a rear view mirror of a car becomes breaking news these days, he thought of taking a look at what has caught the attention of the news channel this time. There is a high alert in the city for the next 27 minutes. It was getting too much. He switched off the idiot box. A shower would be a good idea at this time, would take away 10 minutes at least. He went in the bathroom, turned the knob of the shower, but there was no sign of any liquid coming out. There was an attempt to rectify it by seeing through the mini holes of the shower. The water came out as a monster and flooded his face, ice cold. Somehow he managed to close the inlet. The towel was used and he was back at the couch a bit more shaken than before.
What if everything happening around is not a coincidence, he gave a thought. Even for a probability of a fraction of a million, what if his life has to end in the coming fifteen minutes. He decided to think of one thing which he wanted to do in his life more than anything else. 1 minute gone. Nothing came to his mind. He started thinking again. There were memories all around: places, people, friends, movies, books, school, college, jobs, exams, bunks, night outs, ragging, pubbing, dining, partying, hangover, picnics, beers, girlfriends, kisses, condoms, weddings, relatives, parents. The time was over. The doorbell freaked again.

Rape me, Rape me my friend.
Am I the only one?

Single and singled

Being alone and being lonely – two worlds apart.