My confidante - rain

Dark clouds, with the rain, bring nostalgia.

Memories buried deep, in a corner of the heart,

Hidden from everyone, concealed from ourselves too.

Somethings you have forgotten ever existed,

The rains germinate them.

With the first drops comes petrichor,

The smell, it makes you a kid.

Deep inside, you wish schools get cancelled,

Only to realize that you now attend a school called life that takes no days off.

A hot 'cutting' is the craving now.

Rain gets heavier and thoughts get denser,

Staring out of the window, you think of her.

Nothing specific, just her, and the memoirs.

Rain aggravates the thirst to find the meaning; of that something unknown.

Tea gives way to a glass of neat scotch.

There is a rain within you, something you have saved for the dry summer days.

The rain within you, and the rain outside,

When both worlds collide,

Sparks fly out of the water,

Sparks never meant to be ignited!

Rain brings the desire for solitude.

For really you want no thought,

Just you, and the solitude,

And the blank gaze at the drops falling on your palm,

Then slipping out of your hand.

Rain is a person, unlike any other weather.

He comes, he destroys, he gives life…

Your wish for solitude is in fact a wish to be alone,

With rain, who knows all your deep secrets,

Because you have confided in him!

Fall, flow or undulate?

Water! It falls, it flows, it undulates!

Aksha sat looking out of the window. The pouring rains and their pitter-patter on the roof. The drops bouncing off the floor and sprinkling droplets on his glasses. The occasional roar of the thunder. He liked the monsoon. He liked sipping coffee as he wrote. Somehow the monsoons inspired him. Always.

He heard the door bell and got up to open it. His silly friends were here. Complaining how wet clothes were pain in the ass. And how getting an auto in the rains was a task better left to the man from the land of Uz, Job, known for his patience! Sohni entered with her dripping umbrella and placed it on the window grills. Urjit had a beaming face perhaps because Sohni was irritated. Aksha never tried to understand their relation. They were the best friends. He would not speak much, Sohni would never stop talking, and Urjit would make sure that she never stopped. Yet, they were the best lot there could be. They didn't have a lot in common but that is what was different!

Aksha could not keep hearing the complaints Sohni had about the rains. He smiled at her and she knew he did not agree with her. Aksha’s mom got them chai and Sohni sipped it intermittently as she spoke.
“Come on Aksha, I know you like rains, I do too but not when I am in the city. I hate them here. I’d rather just go away from here and sit in the greenery out there. But our work won’t allow us right? Isn't that everyone’s story?”

Aksha replied, “I don’t know. I like it everywhere. It’s the same water. Same way of coming down. Here or away from here.”

Urjit interjected the rather few words that Aksha was anyways going to say. “I like the sea.”

Sohni looked at him with confusion. “Where is that coming from? I mean what has the sea got to do with the rains?” After a very brief pause during which Urjit could only move his jaw once, she said, “If you are going to say ‘water cycle’ and talk about evaporation and precipitation, I’d say keep the crap to yourself!”

With a wry grin, Urjit replied, “I meant the sea is good. Vast, never ending, and lets my imagination go wherever it wants.”

Sohni wouldn't let him talk more. “Ah! In that sense, I like rivers. Not the big, slow ones, but the rapid ones, the ones that provide rhythm to my flute. I just love to play flute by the banks of the Beas. I can never get over the Beas. It’s hands down the best thing I have ever seen or heard. It can be scary and it can be welcoming too. Its water can be chilly, but it is tempting to walk into it, wet your feet and take an occasional dip! Whatever you say I will always like it!”

Urjit liked her reply. But he hadn't finished making his point earlier. “It’s such a blissful feeling to be sitting on a beach with a nice book; I can paint the canvas with any colors I want! Staring into emptiness, taking me beyond my vision, beyond the horizon!”

Aksh loved to see them fight! But he never interfered. A smile was all he could wear!

Sohni had a point to make. “Oh, but sea does not support life! Okay, I mean in the conventional sense. It’s salty. You can’t open your eyes when you take a dip in it.”

“Aasu bhi to namkeen hote hai! (So are tears.) Somehow the salty water in my eyes gives me all those feelings. I don’t know. It’s not that I don’t like rivers, but I just can’t think of the anything else that can beat the magnificence of the ocean.”

Sohni replied, “Ha ha! A sailor went to sea, to see what he could see. And all that he could see, was sea, sea, sea! Can’t you get bored of it? A river is so much like our lives. Each bend is different. With each twist it changes course. All the places it flows through just bloom! It’s different!”

Aksha looked out the window. The downpour was reduced to a drizzle now. The healthy bickering of his buddies died out as he heard the chirping of the sparrow beating its wings to dry itself off. The sun peeked from the dark clouds. The writer in him needed no more inspiration…

Khidki par girti in berang boondon ko dekhke sochta hu, kitni berang hai zindagi,
Fir suraj ki kirano ki tarah badalon ke peeche se tumhari muskaan nazar aati hai.
Zindagi ke aasmaan par satrangi indra-dhanush nikhar aata hai…

Roughly translated:
(As I look at the colorless droplets on the window, I cannot help but compare it to my bland life.
Then, out of the dark clouds, the sun shines, just like your smile!
And on the canvas of life, appears a prismatic rainbow!)

Survival of the Resilient

I looked out of the window to see the torrential downpour still there. I decided to keep my bags there, so I got out of the office with just an umbrella. Just seconds had passed since I’d stepped out and I was wet through! Looking beyond the road, I saw the waves hitting the path to the island durgah and as usual, the sea tempted me. Wet anyways, I shut my umbrella and started walking towards it. Kids and oldies all alike, men n women from all faiths thronged here. They were showered with smiles!!!

I observed multifarious people but still remember a family; a couple in their mid 30s perhaps, and a kid of around 10.

“Kitta pani honeka nai? Baba! Tum to poora bhiga honeka.Aur bhi badhta kya pani?”

“Aur nahi to kya? Wo Salim bolneka ye rasta bhi poora pani ke neechu jaata hai!”...

I later met them at the bus stop. I waited for the bus because I knew the trains would never run on time in such rains. The guy came up to me and asked, “Miyaan, Dadar station se Kurla janeku train milenga na?”

I replied with a nod. A bit of chat and I learned that they hailed from Hyderabad and were here at his brother’s place. And he learnt that I too was supposed to go via Dadar. Few more minutes flew by. But no sight of the bus. And now his kid had started to shiver in the cool breeze of the evening blowing over the sea. He called for a taxi, offered me a lift, but I convince him how I won’t get a place to sit in the bus if not for that stop! A shake of the hand and they left with smiles on their faces!!!

I looked at my watch. 6:52 pm. I was going to be late. Wife would be crazy again! I made a mental note to buy her favourite mogre ka gajra on my way home!

Just the the silver lining appears on the horizon- Bus # 385!!!

Slow moving traffic, wet clothes, shut windows! But nothing can prevent me from a good dose of music!

It was some time later that my cell phone rang which got me out of my trance. It was her.

“Haan dear bolo! Aaj bus se aa rahaa hoon.”

A concerned sound of hers asked me if all was right! I confirmed my well being and it was then that I came to know that a serial blasts have rocked the city again just about 10 minutes back. Three places, one of them near Dadar station. My mind started racing, taking me to a different world! The very fact that I could have been there, and how I had escaped it by a whisker. Then the thoughts of the Hyderabadi family. It was too much of pain to imagine the smiling family to be amidst that debris. I could never find out what happened to them...

I logged on to FB for updates. It was being flooded with angered comments.

Taking a deep breath, I plunged into thoughts. The aeni mentis.

Tomorrow I’ll read of the blasts as a thing of the past. Yet another black Wednesday, just like the other black Tuesdays or Fridays.

Then I’ll see the resilient Mumbaikars getting back on track and hear of their heroics and bravery. And the famous Mumbai-spirit!

And the third day, it’ll be back to the scams! Nothing would change. Not till the next attacks. But that too would be just a couple of days. Nothing will change even then.

I had just survived a bomb blast! It could very much have been the last ride of my life had I taken it!

Survival! Strange word. Even animals survive. I’m no animal, I’m a human! I want to live!

So do the many around me. I don’t want to be tagged as resilient or brave; I need to be away from this. Just because I deserve to live! A peaceful night’s sleep is all I want, without having to fear whether I’ll survive the next day.

The secret behind the spirit of Mumbai is not its brave citizens. It is the hunger which craves and forces them to work. If they don’t bounce back, they’ll not survive. They’ve turned to animals who walk blindly. And that is why they survive.

I want to live.

Note: It’s time to take off the mask of tolerance. We are a peace loving nation, a responsible one, which has not started a war on any foreign country in the living history of over 1000 years. Agreed! But how long can we boast of that? We’ll have to survive to do that...

A must read article:

http://www.firstpost.com/politics/dear-pm-i-can-no-longer-be-resilient-and-strong-41195.html#disqus_thread

Love is a Monsoon!!!

Love is in the  air  rains!!!

The flooding skies had forced him to wait under the broken shed. He held his helmet as he checked the status of his wet clothes. He loved the world around him. Kids had returned from schools and were now jumping in puddles; a couple standing under one umbrella, sharing a bhutta. Such bliss! Unmatched!

Now the rains had diminished to a drizzle. He wanted to keep savouring the eternal bliss, but he had just 5 minutes left. So he rode the remainder of his journey.

As expected, he reached on time. But more unexpected outcomes were coming his way. First: He heard the words: “Yes sir, we have a table free. No waiting list!” He actually took out his cell phone to check: Sunday, June 12, 19:03. Just then another shocker arrives. His phone rang- it was her!

“Where are you dear? I’ve reached the security check!”

“Ok. I’m getting a table for us.”

“Ok sweetheart, I’ll be there in a jiffy! Mwah!!!”

Again he checked his phone. Just 5 minutes past scheduled time? Not quite a normal her!

A snap of fingers in front of his eyes got him out of his dumb daze.

”Hello! What are you thinking about?”

Without much thought he said,” Your cherubic beauty is augmented each time I see you!”

“Oh, you are such a practised liar!”

And she walked to the table. As they sat, he felt the urge to ask her if everything was good because the punctual her was something really new for him. But before his thoughts could turn into actions, she started:

“You know what? I’d been to Marine Lines with some friends. The place was full of couples, but even among them was a stand-out one! They were like, old, but mind stuffed with youth. They were like, standing on the pavement, and facing the splurging waves. I couldn’t resist the temptation so I joined them & later, so did my friends.”

“Excuse me sir! Would you like to place some order?”

He cursed the attendant, but said, “A frappe for me and...” He motioned at her.

She asked, “Anything special for the rains?”

The attendant replied, “Yes ma’am, we’ve got a range of hot chocolates especially for the monsoon lovers!”

“Fine, get me any one from them, the best you think.”

He interrupted, “Make it two, and cut the frappe out”

She continued as the attendant left, “So where was I? Ha. Later when we sat and chatted, they told us how they’d first met and how the first few meets were just a coy smile and how shy both of them were to initiate the talks. Finally it was her who asked him out for a walk on the Marine Lines, in the rains, and it was the 50^th anniversary of that walk! Would you believe that? 50 years!!!”

(A waiter set the chocolate on the table and left.)

She continued, “And they were just 15 and 17 then! I couldn’t help but ask them the secret to it. And the grandpa says, ’just have something to love in your life and you’ll have a great reason to live for!’ I felt so jealous I tell you! But I’m happy with you because I know that I can make it through with you alone.”

She raised a toast (chocolate mug actually) and said, “With you, my Buzz Lightyear, TO INFINITY AND BEYOND!!!” He followed suit.

All he did all the time was smile. He remembered the days when they were ‘just friends’ and how they talked on matters ranging from politics and sports to mythology and philosophy. He had his own eisegesis and exegesis which he could talk about for long hours. But ever since he discovered his feelings for her, he couldn’t speak word when she spoke. For he never felt like, for all he wanted was to keep looking at her. And even now, he was staring at her smile.

Some more time and she got up with her bag and said,”I’ll make it real fast now!”

He posted a big smile as she left, and sipped in from his mug. He smelled it as he did it.

Life-time is a full year! With three seasons, it has its variety. Love is your chocolate. With life starting with monsoon rains, get your chocolate heated up to enjoy life. Make sure you have the right mug. It doesn’t need to be the best looking one, a cracked one too can keep it warm. It just has to be yours. Blow it a bit as you drink. Don’t gulp it. Sip by sip. Savour the sweet smell. When it gets cold, don’t worry! Just warm it with your hands. Yes, the winter will come, but the frost will go away.

And when the summer of your life sets in, you can still enjoy your chocolate, now cold, for it has still not lost its sweetness. Love will not be any less sweet. You’ll love life!!!

Don't let the monsoon go away dry. It's the monsoon that makes the chocolate worthy!!!

He saw her coming back and called for the check. She came and sat to finish her chocolate. He paid and they prepared to leave. But as she got up, he held her hand. “Don’t ever leave!”

Teasing him, the movie buff in her said, “Saiyaan, Baiyaan chhod na!!!”

He didn’t care! All he could do is smile!!!

P.S.: Title to the post is borrowed from a poem. Please listen to it too.

Love is a monsoon!!!

Love is a Monsoon (on Youtube)