The Counselor

It was the second day Som sat sulking. Didn’t feel like doing anything, couldn’t pay attention to anything. The images on the TV moved and he sat staring at it blankly.

In comes the counselor friend, Nick!

One look and he knew what his friend was up to!

“Oye Hero, wassup? Valentine’s hangover?”

“Hmm.” That was all the reply Som could muster.

Nick walked straight to the fridge, grabbed a beer and plopped on the couch. Taking a sip, he said, “Ditched you? Wait, let me guess! Over the phone?”

Frustrated, Som asked, “What do you want?”

“Pass me those chips. And what is this shit you are watching? Hand over the remote.”

Som, wordlessly, did as he was bid.

The search for a good show was over and Nick’s mind was free to ask.

“So tell me, did she say: ‘It won’t work’ or ‘I don’t want to hurt you anymore?’”

“You are the enlightened one! You have guessed enough already, make more guesses!”

Nick reduced the volume of the TV and said, “Listen! From one friend to another - no one will give you this knowledge for free. Experience and life have taught me all this. So take it.

“It was your first love! First love is good. Great if it is her first too. Well, that doesn’t mean it comes with a guarantee! But yeah, you can enjoy it.

"The second one though is an eye opener. You realize love is not that fairy tale you thought of, or if your first love relationship was pleasant, this second one is remote from pleasant. Again exceptions prove the rule. Some need many second ones for their sleepy eyes to open. They are the more hopeful lot. A sprinkle of water is not enough sometimes. A full pail is required.

But yeah, it is rough. Either the other person is just playing with you, or so you think. Or simply that you think this is not the love that you want.

“Third love is a myth. Don’t get me wrong, there can be third relationships. The part of you that wants to love is dying. And you don't want the guilt. You feel you are becoming more and more like your first. So you don't want that third. You don't want more people to blame you. Like you blame them. Your conscience is hurting already for having fallen for the 2nd time. For you had hopes. I’d rather say perhaps coz you were brave. But now it is different. You might be brave, I don't doubt it. But there is a side that is keeping you from tormenting someone. Like you were betrayed.

"Suddenly all of it becomes clear to you. Why your first acted the way she did. You realize that you walked in the same shoes. And you regret for what you think you did. You know how much it had hurt you and can only imagine how much it would've hurt your 2nd.

"You start to see yourself in a very negative light. You feel no one deserves you because you are getting more and more like the person you once hated. And you hate yourself for that. But that doesn't help. In no way will it ever do. You will run away from people who are attracted to you. You feel like the flame. You see the moth coming to you, but for all you know, it will be better off at a distance, feel the warmth, get some light. The closer it gets, you will burn it, and you will kill that innocent creature.”

Som interrupted, “And you speak all this with experience?”

“Oh yeah, totally! I used to be the moth. Now I am the flame!”

“You recognize the problem; please enlighten me with the solution too!”

“Only one solution! Stop the blame game. Que sera sera! Focus on other things, read, take a vacation, go out. The last thing on your mind right now should be getting in a relationship.

“Before that, I’d ask, ‘Do you know why she broke up?’”

“Yeah. She told me what made her decide. Not that I believe it but yes, she told me some stuff!”

“Ok. Try to understand her position, see if the pondering helps you believe the reason she gave, and take it - satisfactory or not. If she wants to be with you, she will be back. And don’t act foolish if she does come back! If you are with someone then, reject her offer, but be friends! Remember the days you were together and how happy you were. Crunch, crunch, crunch. But my words are not final. You can find love as frequently and easily as you get a six on a fair die! Trivia time: in archaic English, die is to have an orgasm. Anyway, talking of a fair die, actually life is both fair and unfair based on how you look at it.”

TV was the only source of voice for some time before finally Nick said, “Damn I should be a counselor!”

Wanderlust

As he kissed my forehead that night,

I had slept with a smile on my face.

But when I had woken up, he was gone.

Somewhere between that last smile and the morning,

He had left. Where to? I knew not.

From the day I truly knew him,

I had feared that I'd see this day.

He was not the one who could be tethered.

He was born to be free, to go out there.

And today, a year has passed since that day,

I have waited every sundown.

Expecting to hear from him, to see him.

I have craved to meet the man I love.

He wanted to travel, all over the world.

I know not where he might be now

Maybe Paris, maybe Alaska, or perhaps in India.

All I know is I must find him, be with him.

I shouldn't have stayed, bound to safety.

So now, I am setting out.

With a hope that our paths will cross,

Someday, somewhere, if it is destined.

Serendipitous perhaps...

He loved to wander...

I wander for love...

Memoires

Reorganizing your stuff is not always a pleasant idea, but at the end when all looks sorted and nice, it gives immense satisfaction and pleases the mind. Not always though.

Yesterday was that exception. I came across the little CD she'd given when we parted. Full of songs that portrayed her feelings.

I realized I'd been staring at it a long time before I decided to play it. Loud enough that I was swaying to the jazz and swing and 60s-70s rock and pop.

All was good till it came to the ABBA song 'Hasta Mañana'. Words are like stones, they can sharpen a mind like sword and they can also shatter the heart of glass.

Luckily, the feeling lasted only for the length of the song. Perhaps because following it was the mambo number 'Sway'. And all was good and I cheered up again.

Some more songs saw my desk and wardrobe all assorted. Some songs that made me dance, some that caught me staring into emptiness. But it was done now. And the disk was to be shelved again.

If not the sorted wardrobe, then at least the fatigue makes sure you sleep well. Maybe not as well as the idiomatic 'baby's sleep'. Perhaps because babies don't have to organize their stuff. Long since my mother did it for me.

But I slept well. No dreams, no nightmares. Good sound sleep.

I had slept alone, tired. But I woke up with her thoughts. Thoughts that could disturb the whole day, make it difficult to focus on your work. They were there, there I was. And there she was, far away.

I had thought I don't care anymore, that I didn't give a damn. But the fact was that I did. And it took just a few songs to remind me of that. A few harmless, melodious tunes but lethal words.

What can I do now? I better keep that CD shelved.

Have I told lately, that I love you. Have I told you there is no one else above you. Fill my heart with gladness, take away all my sadness. Ease my troubles, that's what you do...

Perhaps not anymore. No more.

Apollo and Dionysus

They argued, they fought.

He loved it. She hated it.

He was the critique, she was the connoisseur.

He cursed the flaws, she appreciated the efforts.

He wanted everything to be precise, she believed that feelings need to be true.

He liked the presentation, she liked the essence.

He emphasized on screenplay, dialogues meant a lot to her.

He was the mind, she was the heart.

He was the Sun; she was the moon.

Apollo and Dionysus.

Best friends they were, separated by all the known dimensions - space, time…

But the portal connecting their hearts was intact,

Unknown to the society, warping the beliefs.

The spark remained, perhaps never to be ignited.

Cross my heart. Not!

At first he was skeptical. Often when she had called him urgently, her talks were intimidating and that ended up making everything awkward. Not that she was condescending but she was realistic, practical. And that was his worst fears. And so today when she said she wanted to talk, he was scared, for he knew not what new blast of reality he would have to brave.

He reached the old fort and waited. She called on his phone to know where he was and minutes later, he saw her.

He hated these moments. No actually he dreaded them. How could he hate any moments spent with her. When he saw her, she beamed a smile at him and he knew things were different today. His fear was slowly evanescing. After a brief hug, they sat at their regular bench, gazing out at the city lights starting to come up. She eventually broke the silence around the birds returning home and the sun going down.

She had come up with an idea, a thought. And she wanted to tell him about it directly, tête-à-tête. Not on a phone call, nor through texts. She said, "You know, I don't know what we are doing with our lives." These words made the ghost of his fears start to materialize again. But she continued, "When in my teens, I would chat with my friends and all of us would believe in the happily ever after story. That all things will be good. That true love was not just true and pure, but also flawless, impeccable. Like Walter White's meth." Although that drew a laugh between them, he was not sure where this was going.

She said, "I would think me and my love, we would be like parallel lines. Always together."

He interrupted, "But parallel lines never meet?"

She replied, "Yes, but they are always heading the same way. Okay, imagine that the lines are parallel but they are only a teeny tiny distance apart."

He nodded his approval waiting for a glimpse of clear skies to know where they were heading.

She continued, “But you see, as I grew up, as life started turning from rainbow to shades of grey, I realized those parallel lines don’t exist. It’s an irrational thought.

“But then, you would not want to be intersecting lines too. Along all the paths that they tread on, they meet just once, only to move further away from each other after that. I have had such an experience. Sometimes you wish things were different, sometimes you feel it was necessary. Believe me the few moments that you are closest are the best that one can have, then there is the intersection and parting forever. Here, life does not ask you questions. It is you ask those. Bombard life with questions like: why did this happen, when will this happen, why is he not with me, why did our paths cross in the first place? But are there any set of lines which you would want to be?

“I would always ponder over until this afternoon. This afternoon, I found out what it is between us. You know, we are like the Sine and Cosine waves of the same amplitude, and our wavelengths like totally match. At most times, travelling parallel, then we intersect, and after some moments of bending and mending our ways, we run parallel again. And this goes on and on… Forever…”

He did not know what to say. His confused face made her repeat, “We’re like Sine wave and Cosine wave, parallel at most times, yet intersecting at times infinite!”

He still failed to understand why he was called there to meet with this level of urgency. He did not understand her at times, at times she was a riddle. But if she was the Riddler, he was no Batman, he was just her man!

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!)

Dole monn akarono horshe!

“Get up fast, fast!” Nobonita said as she pulled Shriya out of her chair.

Shriya reluctantly got up. “Girly, you are crazy. It is still some time for the bell to ring. The sky won’t fall if you enter the class 5 minutes late.”

Shriya continued talking, “Have you got the assignments completed? That old Gupta will be pissed off if you go without it in his class. Last week he kicked that Suman guy out remember na? ...”

But Nobonita was not listening. Her mind wandered somewhere else. She seemed confused, looking for something around. Something very important.

“Now will you walk faster? You got my lazy bum off the canteen chair and now you can’t even lift your leg?” Shriya complained.

Nobonita smiled but still walked at the same slow pace. She had nothing to say, but was deep in thoughts. She checked her watch. It was just moments for the bell to ring. She slowed down even more.

The bell rang. Anush picked up his bag and ran out to meet his friends. He rushed past the group gathered around the professor out the door.

He didn’t see her coming, bumped into Nobonita. In the process, she dropped her bag. Already in a hurry, he looked into those eyes, and the world slowed down. But his mind was flooding with thoughts. He had to rush, he was late, but he was lost. He gathered his stuff, looked back at the sparkly, Kohl eyes. Damn Bong girls!

“Sorry!” He said and ran again.

Nobonita’s world still ran in slowmo. She would love to rewind and relive it!

When snapped out of her state of trance, Shriya teased her, “Mission Successful?”

“Huh? What mission? What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on girl, I know you feel the butterflies! I know why you run everyday to make it on time! I am not that dumb a girl!”

Nobonita still wore a smile! Her mind was intoxicated. She remembered the lines her granny would sing, Rabindra Sangeet, Mor bhabonare ki haway matalo, dole monn dole akarono horshe!!!

(My thoughts are confused by which intoxicating winds? My mind sways for no reason, with a delight!!!)