पर उनको तो दुनिया की फ़िक्र सता रही थी

मैं दुनिया छोड़ उनके पीछे पगला सा चला था

भुला कर सारे रिश्ते नाते उनको अपना माना था

उनको अपना मान क सबकुछ उन पर लुटा चूका था 

पर उनको तो दुनिया की फ़िक्र सता रही थी

पर उनको तो दुनिया की फ़िक्र सता रही थी

पर उनको तो दुनिया की फ़िक्र सता रही थी

I Feel You... Still

It's a nature's symphony. Orchestra of birds- singing, dancing, merry making, at the dawn of light. I wake up to the cuckoo of koyal, cooing of pigeons, the twitter and flatter of numerous crows. When your alarm clock is nature's song sung by original artists (read birds) in a 'live-in concert' in original without a reproduction in digital copy the consciousness of life is on a whole new level of understanding. I walk to my balcony in a trance. The khadakwasla lake surrounded by green hills stand bathed in morning sunlight to greet me.

It's cold at this time in morning with a thick layer of log caressing over the still water of the lake. A picturesque scene from a travel magazine promising eternal happiness and enlightenment in a weekend getaway, an exotic spa or eco-friendly hotel in a small hamlet calling you to once in a lifetime experience.

I close my eyes, soak up the nature and light up my cigarette.

Walking back to room how can I not notice the unwrinkled, unshivelled, unslept, clean and cold side of my double bed. Neatly tugged in bedsheet, pillow, blanket quite contrast to my side of bed. This is where she used to sleep. This is her side.

Calm down.. Breathe. Inhale 1..2..3..4..5.. Now Exhale 1..2..3.4..5.. Repeat 5 times.

Go to kitchen. Make tea for two people like I have always do since last 3 years of our marriage. I pour tea in the fluorescent green "World's Best Wife" mug and a white "World's #1 Husband" mug keeping the former beside her side of bed on her small table against her smiling framed picture. Since last 10 months I have to throw the other tea in the sink.

Our morning ritual included kissing her lightly on her fair cheeks to which she responded by sticking her tongue out like Maa Kali and making a disgusted expression. The second kiss has to be on her forehead to which she giggled and opened her eyes to see me with her morning bed-tea.

Mar 21 exactly 10 months ago the day began like any other. She had to catch a morning train to Mumbai to receive her parents at the Mumbai Airport . Despite her nagging of hiring a cab we left in our car for the Pune Railway Station.

WHAAM.

We had just crossed Swargate when a buttoned-down, zoned-out, freaked and insane Maharashtra State Road Transport Corporation (MSRTC) driver decides to went his inner turmoil and frustrations on the road, on the unknown unsuspecting commuters going for their work. A head on collision with the Ashok Leyland bus and the next I remember is waking up in a government hospital.

 Calm down.. Breathe. Inhale 1..2..3..4..5.. Now Exhale 1..2..3.4..5.. Repeat 5 times. 

    

Suicide At Gun Point

Loud repetitive noise. Wake up. Check.

Cell phone ringing. It’s my caller tune. My phone lustrous with light in this very dark room. The phone goes back to dark. Check phone.

                                                           

                                                                Rajesh Office

                                                                3 missed calls

Check missed calls.

                                                                10:18 AM

                                                                10:19 AM

                                                                10:30 AM

Open Eyes.

I’m in a badly withered room. My room. The reality of the world without slowly seeping in which I tried to escape within in sleep. Thick cotton curtains on the window sills with a bed sheet tugged on the window panes preventing any light from outside to seep in. Explains this darkness at 11:00 AM. The head is hurting. Acute pain in cerebral vortex. My fingers are sticky. Check. Blood.

Check Room.

The room appears 20ft. x 20ft. A single bed. A single study stable and chair. An almirah. A wooden book shelf. Nothing appears to be in order. The chair is lying against the door. The table is neat, all its content on floor, almirah is reclining on the bed, seems to have been pushed. I am sleeping, on floor. Check Floor. Floor is battered with broken pieces of glasses. Bottles of whiskey, rum, soda and cans of Diet Coke. A laptop is beneath the table, broken. My laptop. Left hand is blood stained.

Check Walls.

Posters, photos, XXL size greeting cards, computerised sketch of faces and photon collages. Everything torn and shredded. Bits and pieces hanging through cello tapes used to hang them. Some articles burnt on the walls itself making a large black soot formation rising upwards.

Close eyes again. Head’s hurting. Open eyes.

Wake up.

3 newspapers neatly folded slithered under the main door in the hall. Check newspapers.

                                                                November 21, 2011

                                                                November 22, 2011

                                                                November 23, 2011

Phone beeps. Check phone.

Rajesh <+91__________>

11:15

“Whr r u???? Whn r u planning to come to office? Cnt hold boss any longer with your sick parents story. 3^rd day now. Get over with it.”

No other new messages.

Check last message in inbox.

Her <+91__________>

22:03 20 November 2011

“Call me I have to talk about something. Urgent.”

Phone beeps. Check phone.

Rajesh <+91__________>

11:17

“Lemme knw if u r cuming today else real trouble.”

Me <+91__________>

11:20

“No”

Blood stained knife lying on the floor. Pick it up. Turn left hand wrist.

p.s. : disturbing that i ended up writing so gory. Why can't i write about everyday couple fighting about whether so go for floral curtains or Superman ones... Interesting. Check thoughts.

You Rock Richa Singh!!

It's a supposedly happy event and a extravaganza when your friend gets married. Apparently in this case it does not appears to be so because for me a friend married indeed is a friend lost!

With my dearest friend Richa Singh entering the holy matrimonial phase of her life I stand to lose a mentor, guide, philosopher, counselor (career, relationships and otherwise), fellow party animal, comrade-in-arms, future political rival and business associate. The last two very probable to happen! :)

Richa Singh and I started with an entrepreneurial venture- a youth magazine called 'Sub Zero' in NCR but as fate would have it we two outcast-ed creatures in socially awkward college setting teamed up to preserve our intellectual and moral sanity resting on the pillars of our schools La Marts and CMS GomtiNagar respectively (she hated my school, she still does but it was better any given day- except the girls!!) resulting in a secret war against our social environment.

Dearest Richa Singh is tying the knots today with Vikas Agarwal and I'm not there for her at this important event of her life. She's not talking to me at all. I'm waiting for her to calm down and slander me filthiest insults in her vocabulary followed by a fierce hated speech on my misconduct and unbecoming of a friend and eventually forgiving me for the unpardonable sin I have committed.

Then one fine day we'll be chatting about anything and everything that has happened in our lives. crossed our minds, some news we have read, some opinions we have formed, some philosophy, some books, some movies, some memories, some future plans but alas! I guess she'll a married lady now. Now is there DO'S and DONT'S on how to talk to former best friends and now married lady? On what topics should I talk?

"Who does the dishes when maid is not there?"

"Did maid come today?"

"Ummmm... Are you happy?"
(For the record me and Richa Singh are never too happy- our standards are too high for mortals and earthlings!!)

Lucky Dearest Richa Singh has found a wonderful husband and him a wonderful soul mate and companion for life. May God bless you both with health happiness and wealth(also friends like me ;) )  and as you walk around the holy fire swearing love and companionship for next so many births once again may God bless you both!

"Chutti nahin dete apni company main bula le yaar!!!"

You Rock RS!!

Blues And Book Stores

We all escape our pain, our emotional wretchedness and sentimental over weariness.. Yes that's exactly what we do.. escape our pain.

How do you chase the blues away? When things are not going your way... People are not reacting the way you want them too?? World crumbling down... hopes crashing... dreams tumbling... mental breakdown... thoughts collapsing into black hole of despair and nothingness. I know I have painted a gloomy picture but this is how you feel and may be a hell lot worse. Then you leave the little world behind and enter a world to forget everything leaving all dark thoughts in the rear view mirror.

Some go shopping, some go bar, some go long high-speed drives, some eat till their tummy explodes or wallet gives up doling out currency, others will torment their facebook friends by posting all sort of weird non-coherent updates. What's your escape?? We all escape our pain, our emotional wretchedness and sentimental over weariness.. Yes that's exactly what we do.. escape our pain.

I go to book stores.

Corporate book stores where the attendants are too busy/lazy/self-absorbed to bother you or ask if you need help. Bookstores are the only place where I have never been approached by anyone asking what I'm looking for. Tried walking into cologne section of a store? They pounce on you like vampires low on human blood supply, like wild rapists given a license by government to unleash their havoc! (More of that experiences in another post)

Book stores are my answer to wonderland of Alice.

Book stores are my answer to wonderland of Alice. It's a whole world of knowledge in a cave. so much so it overwhelms you with the amount of thoughts and ideas coming to you from all sides and directions. So many books on so diverse issues and subjects. Each book with it's magnetic pull attracts you to delve into it's secret and in no time you are surfing the ocean in a small kayak and letting the waves take you where they want you to go. So you start at top-sellers and navigating through strange channels you pass through new-releases, architecture, photography, Indian writing, self-help. comics, kids, romance, classics, fiction, non-fiction, management, biographies, computer, western philosophy, religion, on sale books, magazines, poetry, fantasy, chetan bhagat, health et al.

No world No time exists. It's me, my thoughts and my reason.

Each book each section drowning you in it's wealth, engulfing you, a universe in it's own with all the secrets unknown and truths waiting to be unlocked, and then your lost lost in thoughts, lost in philosophies, stories, fantasies, classics. I am lost to say the least and overwhelmed. You feel like a speck of grass in the vast constellation of stars.And yes I forget the pin haunting me, tormenting me, torturing me. I doesn't exist at all.. in fact for the time I'm in the book store there is no world outside the book store. No world No time exists. It's me, my thoughts and my reason.

What's your escape?

Midnight Madness.... Why Is The Sky Blue?

I was still in my teens in high school and infinitely curious about everything around me. Curious like a child who's in awe of the world around him. Startling at every new knowledge he gains of the world around him. It was like I'm a child again learning there is a sun, a moon, infinite stars and the earth revolves round the sun.

It was a phase when you are analytical, questioning and scrutinizing every piece of information fed to you. Puzzled at the facts of life inspecting all facts of life trying to decipher the mysteries of the universe. Why is the sky blue? Why do we sleep? Why are stars so far? How does a dog drink water? Why is donkey funny? Why do others have bigger houses and cars than me? Why can't i fight with girls?

It's like when you show a kid new animals, look at his eyes. His eyes pop out, he stares in amazement in wonder, in fascination. Seeing a monkey jumping across trees or a butterfly shuttling between flowers is nothing short of a spectacle for him, a stunner. Take a child to a zoo and he sees with all his being forgetting everything else in else, everything in his memory and mind fades away to nothingness. He shouts with the monkeys, runs with the deers, fears the python almost becoming part of their kingdom.

I was in a somewhat similar state of mind once. It was when I had discovered spirituality and was tampering with the enigma of mind. Nothing served me better than connecting with nature. It were the noises and voices in your head that prevent you to experience your true self in full divinity. It was then that I felt a strong urge to connect with nature. I spent  a lot of time alone on top of my roof with my own being connecting with nature.

In the morning I used to feel the soft sunlight warming the skin of my body. Absorbing the electromagnetic rays of the Sun or the photons (Quantum mechanics I know I know!!) taking eight and a half minutes to reach me produced by nuclear fusion process. The zephyr touching my hair and passing through me. The chirping of birds sending my spirit into trance.

In the night standing on the rooftop under the umbrella of million stars connecting with the moonlight and the twinkling stars. It's then in that moment when the memory and mind fade into oblivion and all the being comes to life making one aware of one's existence is the moment of truth is also the moment of madness.

It was my Midnight Madness.

Afternoon Aloneness

It were just those days when my afternoons and house used to be empty every day. Everyday after i reached home from school and the helpers were done serving me lunch and running errands the house was mine to rule and my mind was used to conceive devious plans.

I had a lot of time to spare which was foremost dedicated to Pamela Anderson. I was a teenager and internet still was a silicon valley stuff, computers were for school and labs not home appliances.The only means of getting to any stuff was cable TV. Pamela Anderson and her TV series V.I.P which was religiously watched by all the kids who could and discussed the explicit scenes the next day in murmurs while the teachers blabbered incohrent stuff about maths and geography. TV had "english" channels and then were the days they aired stuff just short of being called Porn.. of which FTV was legend for all kids, the source of all fantasies and female curve anatomy specialist. Everyone wanted to know what Victoria's secret were.

My home had a collection of old magazines which due to strange reason had never been disposed of it was like we were building an archive of personal copies of ladies magazines.. My mum would refuse to part with her collection of these magazines that probably had never been opened again after they were first read. Empty mind can turn pieces of stones to diamonds and suddenly the huge damned pile of useless paper worthy of crap was turned into a goldmine of digging into the fairer sex' mind. It was like so much of literature at my disposal to have a glimpse into the most complex stuff that the world since Adam and Eve hasn't been able to understand ever.

Doesn't matter the few Gladrags here and there were put to detailed visual inspection and used meticulously. If they call me tomorrow to take over as editor-in-chief of any female-centric magazine God knows i'll slip into the shoes more easily than fish take to water. The boring dull empty afternoons were now work alcoholic magazine researching afternoons not to mention the amount of effort in arranging and re-arranging all the magazines in near perfect state leaving not even an iota of doubt for Sherlock Holmes to detect any mischief. The best part was to stay on top alert mode listening to specific car noise round the street giving me just a few seconds to wrap up all my research and thesis and get everything back to perfect state, open my study books and sit before them with intense look of a yogi devouring maths and physics.

And then as always it is in the end the magazines were finally disposed off and afternoon aloneness was a bygone era. But luckily by then internet dial up connections had entered homes and computer was a home appliance. And the thesis continued albeit in a different medium and manner!!

Amen

Kaun tjhe apnaaega bada nirdayi ye sansaar hain

Mann main ye kaisa vicharo ka sangram hain

Kya tat-thya kya kalpana iski nahin mjhe pehchaan hain

Saathi chodd chala gaya fir bhi mann tjhe ahankaar hain

Kaun tjhe apnaaega bada nirdayi ye sansaar hain

Iss bavandar kaa sakshi tu, kaaran tu

Iss kaal ka bhogi tu, anandi tu

Kyun fir tu har taraf dekhta sansaar hain?

Jab saari shaanti yahaan antarman main hain

Nirnay tu koi leta nahin karuna tere andar nahin

Dukh tjhe bhata nahin sukh pe tu tikta nahin

Beech samundar naav bina naavik k jaise

Bina ruke bina samjhe mann tu bas bahe jaata hain

Kankadd pathar jinhe kahta tu here moti

Inke peeche pada tu khaali haath vivash hain

Pehle tu bhikshu tha par ab to tere pass poora sansaar hain

Fir kyun bazaar main khada hoke akelepan ka shikaar hain?