Staring out of the serendipitous window sill;
beyond the roads and towards the formidable hills;
remembering the hazy times filled with laughter and coated with smiles.
Of those rambling days and sauntered miles, I wish;
to catch the dew drops of those lost times, I miss.
So Lets be strong and go;
far form the beguiling web of right and wrong;
to the hills of wish, surfeit with the cuckoo songs.
There my friend right from those hills, I will wave you;
and send my kisses like the flakes of snow;
when you gaze out from your window sill,
with a lucid mind on a starry night.
The kiss of a wind,
The whiff of the oncoming storm,
Let me breathe and tell you a story in a whisper;
So as not to wake the sleeping bird.
A story about the temptation to get carried away.
Slowly and steadily in your arms.
To be flung to the far off place;
Devoid of the pain, suffering and the familiar faces
To the fallow lands strewn with the stubble.
Let me till the parched land;
For the fruit of life will sprout once again;
From the womb of the mother earth
But not to be burnt away in the summer of life.
Here it is once again. Is it because of the air or if it is something about the month that makes boys and girls go head over heels during the month of Feb. And as always being single adds to the despondency. When you go to the market and you see little red heart shaped the “heart” hung around the shops and people buying it, what you do yes you just smirk and your mind says “yes, God saved me some bucks” and in my case God has been saving my bucks since what like college, that’s when you know the month love is here with open arms.
So what makes the month of Feb that entire special after all don’t lovers go around hand in hand the whole year. It’s not like they will only bother you with their public display of affection and that’s the full form of PDA if , if you are wondering the first time I heard that term I thought of it as some kind of mobile device that you can take with and roam around with, only during a designated time of the year. This is a month when you already know that for these 28 days or 29(god forbid if it’s a leap year) you will have to tell yourself and say “Deal with it its Feb after all” and the other months you still can’t run away from it.
Mind you loving is not everyone’s cup of tea. Arreee it requires a lot of hard work. Waking up the so called “baby” from bed that is 10 bucks wasted because a well-loved baby does not get up so easily mind you that baby requires a lot of “love yous ” and “there for yous”. After dressing up for the office it’s now baby’s turn to call you to say “love yous and love you toos”, that’s another 10 minutes wasted. Once you reach the office and begin the tasks you get so much engrossed that you forget that its lunch hour and your baby does not eat lunch without you and you rush towards the canteen just so late that it’s time for the baby to go and apparently she always has a busy day and yet she finds time for you. On enquiring and much pursuing it is revealed the baby was waiting for you for so long when instead what she could have done was go out with her friends, not a bad idea is what you think but what you actually say is “oooo baby sorry let me make you eat with my own hands”. What is a lunch without a walk because lunch is not just lunch idiot it is a way to spend time with loved ones as they say. So after spending a whole 1 hour at lunch you come back to your desk only to find a message on your phone from the baby informing that you forgot to say the parting words that you always used to say and you actually wonder what is the thing you have been doing since long is “wiping your ass”. Anyhow you continue your work till the next time you look at the clock and its evening and you need to go. You have to surprise the loved one after all you know the monster “Feb” is coming. To make things worse they have these designated days teddy, chocolate, hug, propose, and kiss and Valentine’s Day and the poor guy after all the hard work thinks why did they stop at Valentine ’s Day. They should have topped it up with a make-out day.
So you see if you are a lover feel good because you have been doing a job no not just a job but two full-time jobs. And if you are not a lover cheer up and feel good because you saved yourself your hard earned bucks. And to that I wake up from this wild dream and say fuck that “I am a whole lot richer, i am gonna drink to that”. Now that I must say is a “Happy Valentine’s day” boys.
If you have not read the previous part of this series then I would suggest to click the following link and read:
But if you are just like me and dont giv a fuck, well then go on 🙂
They ran with all their might. Initially the power, pace and the will is comparable.The tenacity of droplets rushing down the sides of the cold glass withers as the distance increases. The trail left behind the drops contains just too much water to make the flow lose its pace. Her legs begin to ache after a few well run meters and the beads of perspiration clog her vision. The destination blurs and she opens her mouth to take in a gush of air that is a last ditch attempt to gather some momentum hoping to last for just a few more miles. He is amazed at this sudden determination shown by his competitor. He has been winning these races since as far his memory goes. Right when they used to run for the chocolate offered as a bait by the father. Today neither the father nor the chocolate remains but for him winning is his legacy. Something he offers as a tribute to his father. Prospects of losing today to his sister are profound and if it is true he will not entirely be sad. At last after a few attempts at trying to make it to the finish line she gives up and she stops. Bended and holding her knees she gasps and looks at her brother who will hit the sea any time from now. The brother who will win one more time and the brother who will be the receiver of one more chocolate and ultimately the brother who will be celebrated by her father. She raises her head towards the heavens and looks with longing eyes which say “Not even once God!”. She cries and calls him from behind. “You always start ahead. This is not fair”, she says in exasperation. “If you don’t stop I will, go back to home”, saying this she sits on the sand and looks at his reaction. She reprimands herself for being such a whiner. If As he losses the sound of footsteps behind him he knows he is going to win. Winning one more of these races is not such a big feat for him than the legacy which he revers. He hears faint cries of his sister. The prospects of spending a lonely evening by the sea was an idea enough to scare him and lose his sight of the finish line so he turns and looks at the figure sitting on the sand with her head in her palms. He sees the exasperation and the dejection in her eyes. For him, winning was no more an act of defeating your competitors anymore and if that competitor happens to be his sister than it is all the more irrelevant. The idea of having his sister win races of life was not too far- fetched. He stops and retreats. After all the last words that his mother said to him were “Whatever happens, You don’t give up on your sister”. So he returns to his sister with the determination to make her win races and competitions, to keep all the little that is left at stake. He sits beside her and looks in her eyes moist eyes. He wipes the small tear on her cheek and says “You know tears are special”. “Hah funny, now you will philosophize the tears too”, She smirks as she knows what is coming is one more of her brother’s weird analogies. “Yes after all that’s what I do best”, says he haughtily. “Yeah go on come out with it. The analogy”, said she appearing to be disinterested yet lending an ear. “They are special because they always create their own path”, he said “Now don’t start with the be a self-made person shit, I have heard it many times” “No there is more, the peculiar thing is that those paths or trails dry or are wiped off so that no more tears can follow suit. The bottom-line is more tears new paths. So what I want you to do is create new paths and wipe away those trails”, he said and he knew he was bang on the point. “That was new. Lets see how many tears can create new paths now”, said she. They both laughed at the moral that seemed too simple and well cheeky but they both understood the meaning clearly. They sat there for sometime chatting and looking at the setting sun. But that was 10 years back when “hoping for the best “was just what they clinged on to…..
If you have not read the previous part of this series then I would suggest to click the following link and read:
But if you are just like me and dont giv a fuck, well then go on 🙂
“Let’s race and see who touches the water first”, said Ram as he turned back to look at her.
“No” she screamed “You started first” and then stopped running. He still ran with all his might hoping and now determined to win the race. He felt jovial and was full with the anticipation of the win that was about to come his way. He was closing in on the beach, at his destination. He looked back one more time only to make sure that the distance was enough between him and the little sister who was now sitting on the sand with her head in her hands and legs folded upto the chin. The waves of the success are too strong to be stopped by the tiny pebbles of tears. The rush of achievement can even break the chains of resilience. Winners are seldom dithered by the dejection of the losers.
He looked ahead once again and raced as has as he could until the blue water touched his feet and a gust of wind felt through his hair. He spread his hands to acknowledge the wind and screamed at it to come fast because success apparently is an incomplete feeling. It gives happiness only when someone appreciates or “If someone loses”.
But that was 15 years back and winning was his motive, the sole motive…
“Who wants to go for a swim”, said Father.
“I will”, said the boy already down to his blue beach undies.
“But don’t go too far into the sea”, remarked mom passing an order in the guise of a suggestion.
“Yes Mother”, echoed both father and son and ran towards the sea that seemed to welcome them with open arms. The blue waters shone like pearl in the late afternoon sunlight. Somewhere a ship sounded an alarm signifying the return of the fishermen with their catch for the day. Mother spread a bedsheet on the sand and after putting all the eatables on one side she looked at the two enjoying in the sea, she wanted to capture this moment in her eyes, this was priceless, this was uncorrupted. Her daughter sat beside her on the sand in her little frock making castles in the sand. She was quiet as the sea and thoughtful as a mountain. She would do something good thought her mother. With these thoughts in mind she lay down and looked at the cloudy sky. The weather made her hum a soft tune “If I had a choice, I would”, beautiful lines that defined this moment. She did not know when she slept and by the time she woke up the father son duo was back from the sea. They both were drenched with water and were hungry. But before food she gave them a towel and fresh clothes to put on. Ram sat behind his sister Rita who was looking at the sea, expressionless. Seeing this, father gave them a plastic black ball to play with. Rita took the ball and threw it with all her might towards the sea. The ball fell into the water and danced on the waves as if it was shaking a leg to the melodious song sung by the white foamy waves. They went and picked up the ball. They took turns to throw the ball into the sea as far as they could. Rita laughed everytime the ball danced on the waves before hitting the shore. The entire process of the ball fighting against the waves and ultimately giving up and hitting the shore was enough to make her giggle. Her brother was the storehouse of energy for her the ultimate winner and protector. To see him struggling to throw the ball against the strong winds was surprising and a source of amazement for her. No matter how high or how far he threw the ball always returned back to the shore.
“Bhaiya, Will it always return back to us , no matter how far we throw?” She asks.
“Maybe Rita , it looks like yes”, and shrugged at the silly question.
They went back to their mother who was calling them to eat something. After a fun day at the beach the family retreated back to their abode. Father holding the girl on his shoulders and the mother holding onto the son. The sun was packing to leave the horizon and the waves were dancing to welcome the night.
But that was 20 years back and life had not thrown much at them…….
Swiftly and slowly it comes down from the skies, trying to figure out a way to its destination. Weird it is how we always try to go to the top whereas it is determined to touch the ground. It tries to sway a little as if buying time before reaching the destination It reminds me of something that still eludes me. Something that every now and then approaches me in disguise and before I could hold it, have it and feel it, it vanishes as the early morning purple that precedes the yellow that sets in welcoming the golden sun.
It is frail and short and guided by wind. I see it struggling against the breeze so I put out my hand to hold it with an intention to protect it and care for it just then it glides sways the other way and escape my hold. I close my fist thinking I have caught it. But as always it deceives my anticipation and expectations. I eye it closely this time determined to hold it with an act that is more out of fear of failure than the protective instinct. This time the touch is soft and velvet I smile knowing I have caught it. With a feeling of win I open my fist to see and look at my achievement.
I find it crumpled under the confines of my fist. It now looked fragile and afraid. It is white and gets darker near the core as if hiding things in its heart. Maybe the secret of longing eyes and secretive smiles that it encounters in its journey is held in its core. On viewing it more closely I find it comes from a far off place and from an unknown bird that I did not know of before, the guilt sets in.
The breeze grows stronger with each passing second. It begins to flutter on my palm as if trying to take a flight and making one more of those umpteen attempts to travel far and wide before touching its Ithaca, the ground.
I resent ultimately understanding that it is never mine. Its beauty is coupled with the air it flies in, the terraces it land upon and the million palms that try to hold it. I smile at my fate. I open my palm more and more and more until the fingers straighten, to help it take off. It takes off with the help of the wind and goes far and goes wide as if smiling at deceiving me once again. I eye it as far as I can until it goes beyond my reach. I know one day at some point of life when I am sitting at the terrace brooding over the present and future it will come and sit in my lap reminding of something from the past but this time I will not hold but let it fly, maybe I will help it fly.
She picks up her bag to leave. Her eyes are still moist from the last nights chat but that did not deter her to turn around and for one last time face the man she loved so much for the past 6 years, she says ” if U ever fall in love with someone count till hundred coz that is the multiplying factor of my love for U., but now fuck U”. With this she leaves and the boy sits there at his place unmoved, unabashed and unaware of his loss. He sips his coffee and gazes at the girl sitting at the adjacent table and thinks “hmm!! nice that one but nxt time may be.”
This is just a summary of one more failed relationship in todays world. No need to tell the entire plot because rest of the part is basically useless because the fact is the warmth and the feelings that were shared just evaporate in such a short time and the protagonists are ready to move on.
Its good that world is so practical and shit and on top of it you may argue that moving on is better than lamenting with a handkerchief over a failed relationship. I am pained at this irreverble show of unkindness and utter easiness. Today feelings are the last thing that people want to be associated with. ” Sensitivity” is a taboo and so are sensible people. But This is not why nature created human beings. You may counter this but the fact that everything is a direct consequence of love is irrefutable. It is as true as the wind and the sun and the stars and the moon. After all if not for your love for reading you would not be wasting your time on this shitty article written by someone you dont even know.
You see around and the nature showers you with love everywhere. The tree and the grass, the moon and the night, the sea and the shore are in constant unison with each other. After all it is the love for money and aspirations that pushes us to go far and beyond our capabilities. When i asked a fisherman what takes him inside the turbulent sea into the bosom of death everyday ” he said had it not been for the love of sea for me, my family would never survive”, it is easy to see his plain and simple point of view. After all birds never sing for themselves and sun does not burn for itself. But we humans make a mistake when we try to quantify and qualify love with lust. Christianity describes lust as a cardinal sin not love. Love is the purest feeling that enables us to wake up and feel good each day. After all who does not love having a silent and peacefully relaxed mornings. In these times love is a result of individual wants and desires. For some it arises out of loneliness and for others it arises out of grattitude or sympathy. So my fellow earth mates stop being followers of these modern fucking times of hatred and envy. Be your own self, listen to your inner voice and shower your love on everything that this world offers you be ti a flower or a thorn and you will never have to move on again.
Love is one of those topics that people have mixed reactions for. You mention the word and the reactions range from exasperation, detest, scowl or a half-hearted smile. These emotions basically sum up the varied meanings that love possess. But they say that “love is complicated and love happens”.
My point is that everything that ranges from rising of the morning sun to the setting of the sun in the evening is an arrangement. It is an arrangement that nature has with us and for us. Laws of nature apply to everything so why not love. After all no one can argue the fact that however weird, complicated or un-understandable it might be love is nothing out of this universe. One point of view can be that then why “love at first sight”, that wasn’t meant to be an arranged. Who arranges it at least the protagonists don’t, so who. Yes it is true that love happens by chance and in the most unusual cases happens at the “first sight”. So let’s look at the bigger picture here, the love at the first sight or by chance requires both the parties to be present at the same location to say the least. That is the first and the foremost pre requisite of such an event to occur and the answer of who arranges it, to that my answer is “nature”.
Thus love is indeed an arrangement. In some cases it fosters as a result of being acquainted with each other for so long and in others it is a mere by-product of the forces which acted in a certain way.