Thursday, January 16, 2020

The home coming

In my previous post I had painfully mentioned that it was my last post. But after a lot of introspection and thinking I felt that might not have been the best things to have done to a not-so-lively blog. Hence as part of my new year resolution (2020), I decided to bring this blog back to life and try to blog at least once a month (more frequent than that if possible)

So, hopefully will write more

Saturday, November 16, 2019

6 long years

How does it feel to write a post after 6 long years??

In one word - Embarrassing!

I am not sure how to put this. But this might be my last post on this blog. So I think of putting up an Eulogy in this last post... for something that used to be my passionate love at some point of time. I could have rather used this space as a personal diary, but still not being motivated enough to write at least once in a few years... is a tragedy. That itself speaks for itself. So they say!

Boy oh boy, bring in the dopamine! Coz this is going to be pretty tough. I am gonna miss you Blogger! You were once my heart and soul, and now you are a victim of a mysterious black hole. I am still sad and surprised on why I stopped writing, but the show must go on! So it is time to pack my bags and leave.

Goodbye Robyn! Goodbye to the writer in you!

I wish you were only mine!
With love and sunshine!

Logging off...Forever

Thursday, December 12, 2013

The Last Smile

The Last Smile

Rahul looked into the imaginary mirror, one more time and took a deep long breath. He smiled gently at his own self, then slowly closed his eyes and started fading. Slowly and gently... gently and slowly... He knew what was happening and what was going to happen and he knew he was alone. Like before, like now. He had realized that it is better to stop breathing than to live a life without happiness.

As he started living the last few moments of his so called valueless life... he could see his past rewinding like a movie flashback.. The background wallpaper of each precious moment in his life... was her black and white picture. She was the one girl, he had always loved. She was his first love. He had loved many people in his life. But she was his first and now his last. They had fallen in love long ago...Thirteen years ago... when they were in college. In the four long years of intense friendship and strong love, they had realized that there was no one else in this world who would understand them more than each other. But the decision was made and the deal was sealed. They had to part. Destiny would not see them together. So they simply walked away from each other. It was painful, it indeed was. But there was no other choice. They simply had to let go. 

Letting go of what is yours, is always more painful than holding on to what is not yours.

17 hours far away and on the other end of the world, Neha twitched in her sleep. Her husband and two daughters were sleeping peacefully with her in the posh king sized bed. The twitching transformed into violent jerks and she woke up with a silent shriek. At the same time, a part of her stopped breathing... somewhere in the world.

Little Dangerous Things in Life

Life's greatest defeat is when you betray yourself. You shatter your own dreams and there is no one responsible for your situation, but you and only you.

Writing has always been one of the best ways to release feelings... and in my case, the only way... So, here I am... in my own world.. fiddling up with words and letters... trying to forgive myself...

Life is short.... Sometimes sweet and sometimes painful, but it is totally up to you to make sure that you get up and stand after a fall, because in this journey... there are no teachers.. no companions and no relations... No one to congratulate you on your success... no one to woo you when you fail... No one to walk with you... in this journey.. You are on your own.

Welcome to Ooty, nice to meet you!

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Crush Crush


I must have been fourteen and I was unfortunately destined to study in a boys-only school, throughout my childhood. In those days, St Xavier’s Boys High school, apart from being one of the well known and most popular schools in town, was also equally infamous for being in close proximity to our rivals - The Lourdes Convent Girls High School. The latter which was run by fair Catholic Nuns (mostly from abroad) had a reputation of admitting selective, cheeky and dashy feminine mini-prototypes.  The Jesuit Fathers who managed our school always reserved a sorry feeling for the poor girls. “Indecent bunch of girls who would spoil the next generation” was what they would indirectly term the young girls clad in short, but cute, blue skirts that were deliberately tailored to mandatorily reveal those adorable pair of knees. And for those Catholic Nuns, we boys had a permanent watermark inscribed on our foreheads which read “Uneducated bunch of idiots who have no future”. In spite of this, and many other controversies, any competition between these so called mighty institutes, was always welcome and victory and defeat both were accepted in a positive sense and true spirit of game. Well in the event of any contest, any act of physical drill-thrill was for sure to be won by the boys while the girls always outshone when it was even remotely related to the brain and art! There was always an evident ego-clash in between these two schools, but at all levels, we would make sure that compete healthily. There was never a lack of discipline, thanks to the inflated ego, and it was sheer hard work and commitment that brought victory to whoever won.

Now, well I saw her for the first time during a Independence Day march-past drill. As part of a marching competition, nearby schools gathered and would show off their infantry-like skills. The audience was typically students from the other schools, and their parents and teachers, who were invited specially for the event at the magnanimous PPG (Police Parade Ground) that adorned the sides of the Athwalines Main Road (also knows commonly as National Highway 6). Well, I used to live in a town that was made quite famous by clothes, diamonds and rats. But after the “Rat” event, it successfully emerged as one of the most beautiful cities of the country and PPG was definitely one of the good places to be noticed. Coming back to the march-past, there was always a prize for the best march! More than the prize, what mattered most was the moment of pride that escalated sky high on winning anything against our rivals. Our boys had been ceaselessly winning the series of events since the launch of the yearly marching competition half a decade back. And coincidentally the rival girls always managed to steal the second position. In a perpetual effort to puff up their noses with pride, the holy Fathers always ensured that the Lourdes girls and the Xavier Boys always marched side by side in the final rounds. It becomes an easy decision for the judge, you see. Although the girls would march with rhythm it was quite obvious that the boys would never let their drill master down. I mean how could they? After all those rigorous hours of repeated practice for over a month and not to forget those cane floggings that seemed to adorn our backs, we were sure that we wouldn't make a false move, even remotely! Well, there were a group of 20 students from each school and one leader among them. And that year, I should say my height and my affinity towards the NCC camps, contributed a lot in making me the boys’ scout leader. So with my fellows behind me, I had to lead the team, with the school flag in my proud hands. Before our final round of parade started I looked at my supporting school mates who were clearly spread across the ground. And then I happened to look at my right side to see our enemy leader - the soul whom I ought to be competing with! And boy there she was – an angel dressed in pure white. Not as though we were not in white, but it felt as if her attire was bathed with double the specified amount of “Aaya naya Ujaala, Chaar bundo waala” [A typical whitener advertisement that was quite common in those days]. Dressed to kill!  Perfectly like they say! Perhaps noticing from the corner of her eyes, that I was noticing her, with a genuine grace she too turned her charming face to look at her rival. Oh boy that was supposed to be me!!! The eye contact lasted for less than a second but I was frozen and boy was I knocked off? Yeah I sure was! I then forcibly looked beyond at the audience and I saw the stern grim faces of the harsh Reverends and I was determined not to compromise the school’s objectives. With the start of Ready Steady…Go!!! [They might have said “Ready Steady Wall” if it were to happen today. It seems I have been watching a hell lot of POGO channel these days, which unfortunately was non-existent then] and we (the leaders) were marching side by side, at a distance of course, on the brushed jaded red carpet along with the band and music with young scouts following behind in perfect gesture.  

Now as we crossed the chief guest, we - that is only the scout leaders, were supposed to look towards him and bend our respective flags sideways as a mark of honor, as they generally do, and give a gaze to the audience without moving your heads. The stare would have to be the typical military look-kinda stuff and it generally spelled out the commitment and confidence. And heck, why did the chief guest have to be on our Right? Although I tried my best to avoid looking at this beautiful vault in between my team and the audience, my eyes seemed to automatically relocate and lock-focus on our rival leader! Within exactly ten seconds, that is the time by when we would have passed the seated chief guest, we had to straighten our flag and look affront again. But boy, I had fallen in instant love. Like they say, when you are in love, each second seems like an era, and it sure did. And now, completely lost, I was looking at the perfection of those beautiful pair of eyes and the perfect eyebrows and the dimpled chin and the cheeks that were seemingly shouting out aloud “Kiss me, Kiss me” Was I looking at an angel? But wait a minute, “Wasn't she supposed to be looking right towards the chief guest? Why is she looking straight ahead” Suddenly I got a rude kick on the back of my shin from the guy behind me, and it brought be back to the real world. For a split of a second I was mad at this crazy guy coz I somehow thought he had spoiled the entire rhythm of the march with a seemingly wrong step. But ouch! Reality Bites! I just understood why she was not looking right, and why I got the kick in the first place. By now, I was a good one minute late in turning my head straight (and of course straightening the flag.) The march ended soon and as fate would have it, we lost the very first prize for the very first time to whom else, but the rival girls! I couldn't justify the reason for the one minute delay to a bunch of idiots who would not understand what that feeling felt like for the entire minute. Back in school, I was invited on stage and given the royal treatment for my stupid act and for embarrassing the school’s reputation so drastically. But even while I was feeling the wriggling pain, back in my mind, I knew that those “Sixty seconds” were a thousand times worth the punishment. And the first prize was my first and last gift, especially and carefully wrapped with love (the first-sight types), to a beautiful person, who I never even knew.

Well, what happened next is quite opposite to what could have happened in a typical Karan-Johar film. I never ever got to know her name and we never ever happened to cross our paths. I remember cursing my serendipity a real lot those days, for around a year. In fact I even waited patiently a couple of times for long stints outside the Lourdes Convent School, under the pretext of buying something that would never be available in the nearby shops, in anticipation to see one more accidental glimpse of that pretty face. But I never succeeded and eventually I had to close this chapter forever. Well at that time, I never realized what that strange feeling was, but later at some point of time in my life, I got to know that she would probably have been my first crush or love or infatuation… Whatever!!!

Today, as yet another Independence Day passed by, and as I look back almost fifteen years back into the pages of my life, I could still see how she looked like! The lingering memories almost incidentally reproduce the freshness, as if it were all happening just now!