You promised... | Part 1

HELLO

Ma! Ma!" The screams at the door broke Divya's trance. The noise of the footsteps in the living room was evidence that her two little angels - Ria and Rohan - had returned home. "Right on time" she exclaimed as she looked at the clock on the wall that read 2:15 pm and stood up. She loved Saturdays, it was the one day of the week she was at home to receive her children as they rushed in. The rest of the week, she was at work Arjun, slaving away at the job that provided for her family now. She missed her kids, but she didn't really have an option. Still, she constantly worried for them until she got back home at 7, especially in the last two years ever since her mother-in-law had passed away. Now, the kids stayed with someone in the neighborhood who ran a very basic after-school daycare. It wasn't great but it was all she could afford, and at least her children were safe and well-fed there. Today, however, was the best day of the week. Today, in just a few seconds, Ria and Rohan would run in and hug their mother, then rattle non-stop about their day and then demand to be changed and fed hot food by her hands. Even though they had all of their other meals together, the five missed lunches every week made Saturday afternoons special for this little family. Divya wiped her tears, put on her brightest smile, and looked one last time at the photo on her wall that signified the most important part of their family that they had lost. "Miss you Arjun" Divya muttered and walked outside, mobbed by her two gangsters. 

"Ma! Tell us Daddy's pilot training story again!" Rohan asked over lunch, wanting to hear the story yet another time even though he knew every word. He had never met his father, but it seemed as if he was always looking for him in his tales. 

"Ohho...you already know that story. Let's watch TV." Ria butted in before Divya could respond. 

"No! I want Daddy's story." 

"But I want to watch Frozen." 

"You are stupid." 

"You are stupid!" 

"You are dumb like your frozen princess" 

"You are an idiot" 

"Ria...Rohan...both of you...behave. Rohan, say sorry to didi. Ria, you too." Divya interrupted the fight. 

"Sorry didi" Rohan reluctantly said. He was stubborn, but did everything Divya said. He never wanted to disappoint his mother and liked being her favorite. 

Ria, however, was still quiet and furious. 

"Ria, your turn" Divya pushed. 

"But he started it." 

"But you are elder no. You should be responsible. Come on, Rohan already apologized." 

"But he always does this ma. He always wants to listen to Daddy's stories even though they make you cry every time." Ria blurted. 

Divya was stunned. Perhaps her nine year old daughter not as young as she thought she was. Perhaps her silent tears were less silent than she believed. 

"Ria that is not..." Divya started to say, but Ria got up and ran to her room instead. Divya composed herself for a few minutes and then followed her there. 

"Ria...princess..."she softly spoke as she entered the room. Ria was sitting on her bed, softly sobbing. 

"Hey, baby...what happened..." Divya kneeled next to her as she noticed her tears. Ria hugged Divya tight. 

"I am sorry ma..." 

"Shhh...it's ok baby. Stop crying. You're my brave bacha. Tell me...look at me...first stop crying...now look at me" Divya spoke gently, wiping Ria's tears "Tell me bacha..." 

"I am sorry ma. I shouldn't have..." 

"It's okay baby."Divya hugged her and gently patted her back. 

"I have seen you cry at the night after you tell Daddy's stories. I don't like to see you cry. I hate Daddy." 

Divya looked at her daughter's innocent eyes and saw the genuine concern reflected in them. 

"Hey, Daddy loved you the most, you know. Why do you hate Daddy?" 

"Then why did he leave us? Why did he have to go away? And why does he still make you cry?" 

"He doesn't want us to cry. He loves us. He loves all of us. It's me who is bad and who still cries. I probably hurt you and your Daddy by crying. I am sorry Ria." 

"No ma. You're not bad. You're the best." 

"Naah...my Ria is the best. And bravest. You'd teach me to be brave too, won't you?" Divya tried to smile, but Ria's words had penetrated her heart. She had sensed it for a while that Ria had begun resenting Arjun. In fact, over the years, the more Rohan's obsession about his father grew, the more resentful Ria had become. And for the first time today, Divya felt that maybe she was the reason.

Maybe her grief and her longing for her dead husband was hurting her children more than she knew. Maybe, seven years was too long a time for her to still be missing Arjun so much she cried to sleep every night. But could she really stop when that moment when she had first received the news of Arjun's plane crashing during an insurgent operation was till so raw, so alive for her. She was pregnant with Rohan at the time, and the news had led her to collapse. They had to perform an emergency C-section and Rohan was all of 29 weeks when born - almost a miracle baby to have survived at that time. Seven years had passed since, exactly to the date. Radha, who had been her only support all these years, had said after the first year to not do anything special on this day to remind them all of Arjun. We still have to be alive, she would say and ask Divya to move on, even though Divya knew her own suppressed grief over losing her son was eating her inside. 

Gradually, she lost her health to her grief and only found peace when she passed away a couple of years back, leaving Divya all alone to raise her children. But she knew she constantly fell short of her children's needs and their circumstances had forced them to grow up sooner than she would have liked them to. As hard as she tried, she couldn't be their mother and father at the same time. She knew Rohan sorely felt Arjun's absence, but today after talking with Ria, she realized both her children missed their father acutely. Maybe her mother was right, maybe she should have remarried for the sake of her children. But how could she, when in her heart Arjun was still alive? How could she be someone else's wife when she had only ever belonged to and could ever belong to one person? 

Why did he have to go away - Divya silently repeated Ria's question. Even though she was just a kid, her anger resonated in Divya's heart. Seven years later, she was still mad at Arjun for leaving. For breaking his promise. Every single time. 

"Didi" Rohan's cute voice at the door broke the comfortable embrace of mother and daughter. 

"Sorry didi" He said as he entered the room, holding his ears. Divya couldn't help but break into a smile looking at his cute face. She also noticed how hard Ria was trying to control her smile and maintain a sullen face for Rohan. He fought all the time with his elder sister, but also loved her like crazy. Only last week he had beaten up some guy in Ria's class at school who stole her lunch. Thankfully Ria had whisked him away before her classmate could retaliate. They both protected each other - and their mother - from the world, but she really needed to step in to protect the two crazies from each other. 

"Let it go...let it go...let it go..." Rohan started drawling Ria's favorite Frozen song in his baritone, at which Ria erupted laughing. 

"You can't sing kiddo. Don't spoil the song." 

"I am not kiddo. I will be seven tomorrow on my birthday. And see, I am almost as tall as you now." 

"No, you're not. You're dumb, kiddo." 

"Mommy." 

"Yeah, oye, who called my little prince kiddo? He's a big boy, can't you see Ria." Divya said, settling Rohan in her lap. 

"Yeah, that's why he is sitting in Mommy's lap. Little kiddo." 

"That's it. If I am so little, let's see if you can catch me." Rohan jumped off Divya's lap, grabbed Ria's favorite doll lying on the bed and ran out of the room. Soon, Ria was following him and the ruckus was back all over the house. 

And inside Divya's heart.
"You promised you'd be there by my side, you promised you'd be the world's greatest Dad for Rohan, you promised I won't be alone again, then why did you break your promise to me Arjun. Why didn't you love us more than your job? Why did you go away? " 

*************************************** 

"Pop" burst yet another balloon that Rohan was trying to blow into. Ria, Rohan and Divya were busy putting up decorations around the house for Rohan's birthday party in a few hours. 

"You blew another balloon. See ma, I told you, he keeps blowing air until the balloon pops. He has already wasted six. Ask him to stop ma." 

"It's my birthday." Rohan grinned. 

"Yes, it is, sweetheart. Sorry Ria, it's his birthday." Divya grinned back. 

"But I am in charge of the decoration! See I made everything so pretty. He is spoiling the party ma!" Ria protested. 

"It's my party. I don't want your help." 

"Maaa"' 

"Rohan, don't be mean. Ria is doing all this for your friends only. You should thank her." 

"But I want to play with balloons." 

"Ok, why don't you take these two and play inside. Me and Ria will finish the decorations. Then I have to finish the icing on your cake too." 

Rohan went inside, but returned in ten minutes. 

"Ma, I forgot something. Here's your gift" 

"My gift? But it's your birthday." 

"But you're my mom. So gift for you." 

Divya took the card in Rohan's hand on which Rohan had drawn Divya, a big Rohan and a tiny Ria holding Divya's hands. For the first time, Rohan hadn't drawn Arjun - only a photo of him on the wall. Happy Rohan Birthday, the card read. 

"Haww...this is me? So small?" Ria yelled, peeking over Divya's shoulder to see the card. 

"Yep" Rohan grinned. 

"I will kill you." 

"Not today. Today is my birthday." He continued to shamelessly show his teeth while Ria fumed. 

"Very smart Rohan. Thank you, this is beautiful. But why is Daddy not in this card?" 

"Daddy makes you cry, so I put him on the back. I don't want Daddy mom. I will not even ask for his stories any more. Then you will not cry no? You're the world's best ma. I only want you. I hate Daddy." 

Divya's eyes welled up hearing Rohan, but she held back her tears. What was she doing to her children, lost in her grief? No more tears, she promised herself. 

"I will never cry, I promise. But never say we hate Daddy ok? We love him, and he loves us. He is watching us all the time, and he wants us to be happy. Promise me, both of you, you'd never say bad things about daddy." 

Ria looked away, but Rohan nodded in agreement. "I promise" 

Before Divya could respond, Vikram's voice at the door distracted them all. "Wow this looks fabulous!" 

"Hi Vikram uncle!" Ria beamed. "Hi Ria..." 

"Vikram uncle!!!" Rohan yelled and ran towards Vikram, who in turn took a couple of steps in and gathered Rohan in his arms. Vikram used to be Arjun's best friend in college, and Divya's senior. Just before their wedding though, he had gone to US for post-graduation. He only returned after Arjun's demise and it was only after that that Divya got to know Vikram, even though she had heard many of his stories from Arjun. Now, he lived close-by and tried to help Divya out every way he could, including getting her current job. 

"Happy birthday champ" 

"Thank you. Where's my gift?" 

"Gift...umm...I forgot..." 

Rohan made a sulking face "Okay..." 

"Oh, but what is this in my pocket?" 

"Yeyy...give me" Rohan jumped at the packet and climbed down to sit and unwrap it. 

"Wow...look ma...video game...this is so cool...right?" 

"Yeah, but did you thank Vikram uncle?" 

"Oh sorry" Rohan leapt up and gave a huge hug to Vikram "Thank you. I love you." 

"Love you too champ. Now go play" 

Rohan ran inside with his video game while Ria focussed her attention on the balloons. 

"Hi Divya" 

"Hi Vikram. You again bought a toy for Rohan?" 

"Oh come on. It's his birthday. Stop being strict for at least one day." 

"Hmm...you came early." 

"Yeah I thought you'd need help to set up before the party. So here I am, at your service, madame. What are my instructions?" 

Divya smiled as Vikram bowed. "Nothing. You help Ria here. I will go finalise the cake." 

"Yes ma'am" 

"Divya" Vikram called as Divya was about to enter the kitchen. 

"Yeah?" 

"You look beautiful today!" 

Divya shrugged away the compliment and continued to walk inside. 

An hour later, everything was set. Rohan and Ria had changed and both were busy watching cartoons sitting with Vikram on the couch, waiting for their friends to arrive. Divya checked the cake in the fridge one last time, when the phone rang. 

Usually, Rohan would rush to pick up the phone, esp. the landline, but noticing him engrossed in his Chhota Bheem cartoons, Divya walked to her bedroom to answer the call. 

"Hello" she said, half her attention still in the living room to keep an eye if any kids had come yet. 

"Hello" came a familiar voice. Too familiar. The voice was soft and shaky, yet triggered a wave within Divya, pulling back her attention. 

"D..Divya?" said the voice. Her name. This voice. Seven years. This couldn't be... 

"Arj.." Divya's voice choked, unable to complete any thought that was running through her head right now. She was imagining things, wasn't she? But still she had to ask. She had to know. 

"Yes, it's me, biwi. It's your Arjun" 

Statistically insignificant

It's fall; winds blow all day

And leaves shed all around.

Another moment, another gust of wind

And a few more leaves shed

Probably means nothing special to you

Statistically insignificant, a comma in an epic.

But the leaf, each leaf 

Has a very different narrative

Profound, poetic, personal

Emotional, secretive, transitive.

But you'd miss all those stories

That leaf will just be a relic.

Once, you lived on the tree

The leaves were all distinct, all friends

Now reduced to multitudes of color

by time and distance, to seasonal trends

Would you ever be friends again?

Or would life always be so frantic.

It's so easy to drift apart

Almost the natural order of things

You start flying in another direction

With the slightest change in winds

Sure, other trees will fill the void

Sure, elsewhere you'd rediscover the magic

Probably this one doesn't really mean much to you

Statistically insignificant. A comma in an epic.

Smriti

Yoon to tumhein bhool gaye hain hum

Kayi kayi mahine beet jate hain

bina tumhari yad ke

Par achanak kisi kisi raat

khud ko fir usi mod pe paate hain

Jahan tum bichhad gaye the

Aur fir wahi 'kyon' yaad aata hai

Fir wahi dard jaag jaata hai

Khud ko fir se solah ka paate hain

Kaaran dhoond dhoond khud ko samjhate hain

Fir wahi ladakpan yaad aata hai

Ab tak us dosti se naata hai

Kyon khoya ye jaane ne jaane kabhi

Kya khoya ye dil tumse behtar jaanta hai

Beyond-IV

[[I have been trying to write this for many days now. I had actually intended the last part to be the concluding one, but words deserted me. I don't know how this ends.
Or, even if I know, I do not want to write that ending. Fiction is not life; life is not perfect. And telling stories some times take away more from you than you'd negotiated. I write here two versions of reality my imagination. Excuse the fallacies of writing and the inadequacy of answers, and take your pick.

Concluding part. Part 1 here. Part 2 here. Part 3 here]]

Version 1

"...I don't even know if you remember or not that today, the 10th of May, represents the day I gave you my heart, my trust and my life all those years ago. I don't even know if I represent anything to you other than a chapter of the past. But somehow, even after all these months, my heart doesn't believe my head. The same heart you shattered mercilessly that day at the airport. The idea of you not loving me hurts me more than your admission of what you did behind my back. Somehow, something in me believes there was something in your eyes and your silence even that day. Maybe I've gone crazy. My anger and my sense of betrayal have both subsided. Both love and the agony of love have finally deserted me, but peace eludes me. Even today I cannot reconcile to the fact that I didn't know the girl I loved at all, and that one day you just stopped caring. I do not even envy the object of your affections any more, but it hurts me to realize that you'd have to have changed entirely as a person to be what my mind tells me you are now.

I have been thinking of talking to you once for a long time, but I feared I'd break down in front of you because at that stage I was afraid I wanted you back. But today I need to get past this. And that's why I ask for a small favor from you, for the sake of better times.

I want to believe you did what you did for your happiness, and you are better off for it, and then I will be able to forgive you and move on beyond.
If you do not wish to see me or speak to me, just hand over this envelope back to Shikha . I'd understand.
Good luck..."

I read the words several times. My mind was numb and my eyes were red, but the rest of the body was bursting with pain. I had no idea what to do. Jumping off the roof seemed like a smart idea. I felt small and I felt hopeful at the same time. What would I tell him? What did he want to hear? He clearly did not love me any more - was I supposed to give him the peace he needed to move on. Should I just apologize for my mistake and let him decide.
I soon realized I wasn't and couldn't think straight. It was just the kind of times when I needed him, to be able to run into his arms, where he'd make me feel secure, then scold me and cajole me into doing what was right.
I had to let go of the tussle inside me. I got up, opened the door and walked barefoot to Shikha's place, letter in hand.
I knew he would be waiting there.

********************************************************************************************

Version 2

"...aren't you surprised that I still celebrate the day we first got together. Despite how it ended, it was the best thing that happened to me, and that is why every year I'd striven to make it special. But I guess what we had was never special enough for you. You ruined my dreams with a cold betrayal. You changed, without warning.
Before I left for London, I sensed that you were unhappy with the distance and all I could think of were ways to make you happy. That is why I had asked for a permanent transfer to Mumbai and I'd planned to ask you to marry me as soon as I landed back in India, back in your arms. But for once, you beat me with your plans. Your arms hadn't waited for me. I was so wrong...I was not the one you ever needed to be happy. My broken heart felt heavier than the ring in my pocket. But most of all, the coldness of your eyes when I asked you in desperation if you loved me even a little bit - that still sends shivers down my spine.

I was a simple guy. I loved you with everything I had. I tried my best to make you happy. But it wasn't enough. You couldn't be mine. Still, you could have just told me and walked away sooner instead of breaking my trust. Why did you have to ruin my belief in life? You'd never be able to build your castle of joy over the grave of my hope.

I myself do not believe the kind of things I did just to get over you. I drank myself silly, I quit my job and I spent nights wasted at friends' places just to stop feeling the pain. I hooked up with random girls just to see how it felt to cheat on you. But satisfaction eluded me even in revenge. Thankfully, I eventually realized that life was not worth wasting over one bad memory. You never deserved me.
And now, I actually forgive you for what you did. You don't deserve my hatred either, any more.

Between you and me, I have been the one planning every anniversary for us. This year too, I have a plan. I'm leaving India today permanently to start a new life that is not haunted by your betrayal. I'm leaving for you the ring - the burden is not mine to bear anymore. Consider it my last anniversary gift...."

I picked up the envelope - there actually was a ring inside. Shiny, slightly bruised at the edges, but still, almost smiling, with my name engraved on it. I wore it and felt a strange happiness, a strange relief. The tears dried up and the pain vanished.
I felt I could now die.

Beyond-III

[Continued from here] [Part 1 here]

The doorbell rang. I decided to stop moping and open the door. It had been hours already; I needed to fix dinner and get some work done. As long as I wouldn't die, I need to survive. That was the only thought driving me for the last few months. For several weeks after that fateful day at the airport, the silence and the guilt had consumed me. I lost him, my job, most of my friends and my own self-respect. But as long as the guilt wasn't killing me, it wasn't paying my rent either. Gradually I decided to move on, get a new job and occupy myself. To the extent that today I didn't even remember what day it was.

The doorbell rang again. It was Shikha, who lived next door. Once, she was a great friend.to both him and me. But she never looked me in the eye again once she got to know why I broke up. She told me she wasn't judging me, but was pained for him enough not to be my friend.
She stood at the door with a few envelopes in hand. The postman had wrongly delivered the mail again. I took them and she left, without saying a word.

I put on the lights and settled on the bed to add up the bills for the month. That's when I saw the white envelope marking my name and address in his handwriting. Written letter? From him? My heart skipped a beat. I could not decide whether to open it or not. My hands were shivering and tears welled up in my eyes. After several minutes of numbing anguish I decided to open it. I wasn't breathing. It looked like a letter. The only thing I could think of was why a letter. Why not a phone call or an email or...

"Happy anniversary...." I started to read.


[To be continued]

Beyond-II

Once upon a time, not so long ago, I thought I was in love.
Once upon a time, a bit before that, I was really in love. At that time, it was the best thing to have happened to me. Probably still is. Point is, once upon a time, not so long ago, my life had revolved around one precious relationship for more than seven years.

Like many other people. And like many of those people, I intrinsically believed that was it. It was full of love, care and deep understanding for the most part. Except that time, distance and that funny thing called too-much-comfort had probably taken a toll on it.

Aarghh...why am I trying to find an excuse. Lying to the mirror doesn't tint your reflection. Fact is, he loved me a lot and he loved me the same all those years, and probably would have for the rest of my life. But I wanted more. It now sounds irresponsibly callous, but it wouldn't be too off the mark to say I was probably bored, and life seemed to offer so much freshness. The day I stopped taking his calls and pretending I was too busy, I didn't feel a thing. Maybe I was dead already by then. And I was indulging myself in what felt like righteous liberating choices.

He had come here to surprise me on May 10th last year. To celebrate our seventh year of being together. I was happy and touched. The past few months of distance had almost vanished. I could have been rescued!
We spent two wonderful days together. And then flew to London for the next three months.

The day he came back from London, I went to see him at the airport. And then, when I saw that immense love in his eyes, I just couldn't stand it any longer. I felt small - yes, maybe even then I had a soul. I told him I had cheated on him behind his back with this guy who lived in the same building as me, but had no more courage to say anything more. I couldn't even answer when he asked if I loved him. I had frozen. The pain of his eyes at that moment stings my insides even day

He walked away.

When I finally realized what I had done, and how little everything in the world without him meant to me, I collapsed.

I tried calling him once, and he disconnected. I haven't been able to try again. People tell me move on, look beyond. I wonder, to where.

How could someone be so dead that they stay alive knowing the evil that lives inside them.

[To be continued]

Beyond - I

May 10th.

I hadn't realized it in the rush that defines every morning for me- in fact, not till 11 am in office when I needed to schedule a meeting did I realize what date it was. And then it was in the calender, staring at me. May 10th it was. Eight years today. And I'd actually forgotten the date.
Life changes so much, so soon.

But once it was back in my mind, there was no getting away from it. The sharp pain returned, almost as if someone had removed the insulation that strangled its intensity so that one could always feel it there in the background but was practically numbed to it. I tried to work, but after another hour, gave up. The images wont quit flashing, tears threatened to well up, and my body felt weak. I tried to eat some lunch, but ended up running to the restroom to puke. There, in the restroom luckily empty at that hour, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. It looked pale, it looked guilty, it almost did not look my own. And then I started to cry.

Before the end of the hour, I'd managed to somehow explain sudden onset of illness and sneak out of office. But how was I to know where I needed to go at that hour, in that time. I felt the world was going to come crashing down - or I was going to faint and fall, one of those. I called a taxi and asked him to take me home.
25 mins later I walked in, drew all curtains till it was pitch dark, and collapsed on the bed. At some level, I couldn't believe just the memory of a date can do this to me- bring me back to the same darkness I found myself in for months altogether not so long ago.

But then again, it wasn't just any date. May 10th meant to me a world that was once all I knew. I tried to put myself to sleep.

(To be continued)

Over rated

That's what being nice is.

Being humble, polite, considerate, sensitive, liberal, respectful. Not saying things you feel in the heat of the moment because they are mean, exaggerated and not fully true.

All of it, is simply over-rated.

Being who you should be, is over rated.

SO mad at myself.

UPDATE: Comments are back. Still mad at google.

The one where life feels utterly worthless to live in

*Crib Alert*

As time passes, I realize, I am liking life less and less.
Growing up is very confusing, very painful and increasingly lonely. Why the hell does anyone ever want to grow up?

Things were so much simpler when I was younger. And they just keep on getting worse - it's hardly worth complaining when I compare my life with a few other people around. Nonetheless, it's not worth it, this life.

Falling in love was so much simpler four years back than it is now. It used to be simple, joyous and strengthening - now it can make me feel weak and helpless, the same love. When did it become so powerful?
Deciding what to do in life was so much simpler. Limited options, enough time, and limited risk. One could just be good at what one chose to do. But now? What job? To study further or not? Where is the career headed? Where is the money gonna come from? My parents wanna know when do I plan to get married. Or why dont I want to stay in BCG till I make partner. Hell, I don't know where I am going to be next week.

Having friends was so much simpler. People just became friends, and stayed so. Now, there are colleagues, acquaintance, bosses, juniors, hangout gangs etc Old friends are as spread away and occupied in their lives as I am, many have simply moved on so far away from the lifestyle that afforded them the luxury of people like me that they're not even the same. Everything is so much more lonely around here.
Even family - they were around and wanted you to be around all the time. And then, somehow, in the struggle to gain some space and acceptance, suddenly there comes a point when my parents don't want me to take a transfer to Delhi office and shift here because Mumbai has better "career scope" and they're already used to this arrangement. And here I was fighting to get a transfer. I still don't know whether I am going to get it, but in Mumbai, where I don't like it alone, I am suddenly almost homeless with both my flatmates announcing they wanna move out asap and I certainly cant afford the rent alone, and back in Delhi, to be honest, what do I have to bring me back.
This when my job kills most of my waking hours and is making me travel all alone to random cities- airport to airport. And it's not as fun as it sounds.
All this is a mess, I know, with a hundred more complications, and I am supposed to decide all alone. Why the hell?

This life is getting lonely, confusing and too demanding. I'm out of energy.

I want out.

The art of not caring

There's one thing I have to give to Mumbai: it's one city where by and large people will leave you alone as long as you don't fall in their way. The apathy or indifference or whatever you may choose to call it, is fairly high, and there are both good and bad sides to it.

On one hand, there would be people like my deranged lunatic landlady who only care about getting more and more money out of you and be completely unsympathetic to your point of view. People will largely refuse to help you out of any humane instincts, only if it profits them somehow. The fanatics will get away with whatever speeches they want to make and the govt will get away with not doing anything because nobody will care enough to question, and those who comprehend will not care enough to vote.

But on the good side, it means by and large you can be yourself and random people would not stare at you. Neighbors will not get nosy even if you consistently come past 2 am at home. If you manage to stay away from the moral police types, you can conveniently walk hand in hand with a guy, wear skimpy clothers, get sloshed etc. And you can sit at Marine Drive alone at midnight, stare at the dark sea and cry all you want for an hour and nobody would bother.

I feel slightly lost in the hurried sea of people running about me. Part of it could be being forced to grow up so soon, and being so alone in all of it. Dunno. Nobody cares for anyone, and that's why they just add "take care" and absolve themselves of any responsibility and concern. Nobody expects you to care, either. Is this what it's like to be an "adult"?

If you care, you just get disappointed all the time. If you don't care nothing matters so you are never upset
- Calvin

Maybe I'm over-reacting. It should get better, right?
Life is not easy, but it's still good.

...

It's just been one of those days where nothing went right. Except I got to sleep in an hour or so extra because my work was tied up to a client meeting in the afternoon.
Everything else, has pretty much gone the difficult way. Not horrible, yet, but difficult and painful.
And I just can't think straight right now, with a mountain of work in front of me. Work that I barely understand and deadlines that are likely to leave me dead, literally.
I still can't work.

Pardon the cribbing, but more and more these days, I get the feeling this life is not worth living. Despite the job, the city, the people, the love, the hate, the dreams, the pain - all highs and lows budgeted in - there's no point in existing. It's like an NPV negative investment, my life.

For once it's not the drama queen throwing out words. It's just something I can't explain anymore. Or have the guts to face.

I?

I like to take each moment as it arises, and yet, when I can, I like to have thought through the worst case scenarios, just to know I can survive it. Heisenberg is God, and uncertainty rules, for both its inevitability and its excitement, yet I need to believe that come what may, it will never be so bad it breaks me.

I hope the irony does not make me weak.

I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad...

Interlude-II

I loved her once, but that doesn't mean a lot anymore. She was a part of my life, yes, but it was so long ago I do not even clearly recall what it was like having her around, or what she was like herself. Yet when I saw her today in the shopping mall, 200 feets and 12 years disappeared in a second. My eyes fogged up with the haze of bits and pieces of memory. I didn't even realize when I lost her in the crowd of the mall. Just like the way, I guess, I lost her 12 years ago in the crowd of life.

Memory is a crazy thing. Most of the times, we choose to remember truth just the way we want it. In the remembering, we tell our mind a story that it records; in the telling of the truth lies the tale selectively entrenched in our brain we call the truth and thereafter. Even more incredible than how some parts are conveniently and completely erased, or never recorded, in the memory, is how some things, some tiny bits from here or there, are just impossible to forget and associate themselves permanently with our idea of ourselves.

I never understood what went wrong with my marriage with Riya. We were so deeply in love, so happy with each other, we couldn't wait to get married. But only a year or so later, an unbreachable silence started living in our house. I can't even remember how it started, but I distinctly remember how I despised having to talk to her, having to touch her. And when she asked for a divorce, I felt relieved. I knew she had said it in a fit of rage and frustration, but I was keen not to allow her to take her words back. My guilt did not allow me to say anything, my greed did not allow me to get away with her words. But most of all it was my love for her that made me so desperate to set her free. Hurt, but free.

That's my story. I know it's not all true, it's not even complete, but I made peace with it all these years. But today, that one smiling look on her face as she bought soft toys for the little girl in pink holding her hand makes me doubt my belief in my truth.

It's so long ago I don't think I can remember the whats whys and whens of all the things that happened back then, but for the first time in twelve years, I'm suddenly haunted by a question that I have a sneaking suspiscion was hidden under the covers all this time. Why did I not take her in my arms and forgive her?

Maybe this interlude of a dozen years would have been different, happier. Or maybe not.

Change-VIII

Caught in a cyclone, we wonder
where the turbulence was born
and where it will die?
Swept by the waves, we dream
of the centre to where we're sucked
where we'd fall and lie.
We look around, for a hand
that we'd waited for all this while
to hold and pull us back.
Solace comes, too little too late
and mostly from the unloved straw
washed down off the track.
Among jitters, as the earth rocks,
the ground slips by the force and hunger
of gushing swallowing water.
We wait with Faith, for You
while with the knife of time,
Change, continues to slaughter.

Waqt rehta nahi kahin tik kar
Iski aadat bhi aadmi si hai....

The night time.

I didn't know this, one of the side-effects of listening too much instrumental music is that you start thinking on the rhythm. Here, look at how words ruin a great song, if you can make out which:

So awake in the night time
Wandering about
I want to ask what
I'm doing around
I want to know why
I wouldn't sleep
I want to know what
I want to keep
Lost in the night time
Looking for a plan
I want to want
and I want to know I can

Will I ever reach where
I really wanna go
Just what place is that
will I ever know
Reaching out in the darkness
Will you understand?
I just want to want
and I want to know I can.

In my head

We all hate being taken for granted, yet the people we love the most, especially our family, are the ones we take for granted all the time. People can't live with each other, or without. I mean, more than six billion on the planet, yet the amount of loneliness on earth is astounding. Isn't that ironical? We spend years waiting for a few moments. It's driving me crazy.

You never realize how much you love someone till you seem to be losing them, or till you see them hurt, a hurt you could have probably prevented by being there for them, and then you can't stop crying. Why can't people just always be there for those they care for? What is the point of loving if you couldn't show up when it mattered, if you couldn't give love when it could heal? Everyone should have people who could be their strength, and who would trust them unfailingly come what may. Otherwise it gets so so alone, especially because so often there are such people in our life and yet we don't have faith, or don't believe they really care, because they aren't there for us when we need them. Nobody should feel so helpless.

And nobody should have to stop talking when they realise no one's listening. Because it makes people do crazy things. Negative energy is as powerful as positive energy. And when you realize you're losing someone because you didn't support them and weren't there for them when you needed to, there's no feeling worse than that helplessness, that guilt.

Dialogue from yesterday's play:

One of these days, I'd be gone. You'd be gone too J, sometime, but in the interim, don't spend time wondering how it would have been had you given me some more time when I needed it, because in that moment of pain, I won't be able to be there for you.

Sometimes, you're both the criminal and the victim.

Murder

How do you kill a kiddo? Simple...tell her, no yell to her, in her face till she's convinced, that all her dreams of her perfect fairy-tale world are false and illusory.

Show her the gruesome reality, the absence of faith, the farcical "forevers", the shallowness of love, the need to be selfish and then put the balm of practicality on it. And voila, you have a slightly hurt slightly shocked slightly jittery much grown up dreamless new member of your society, one who never again dreams of selfless compassion, the good of sharing and the Prince Charming.

You do this everyday, don't you?

Low.

I'm feeling low, exactly low and nothing other than low, just in the way the word might have been first coined to precisely mean, I'm feeling low like that. And this feeling, the setting of almost everything in my life at the moment is almost exactly the same as a few years back. All that furore and I'm still just where I was, just as alone, just as disappointed, just as closed in my heart. I feel for a moment as if my heart has shrunk and shut and all the warmth and affection in it has evaporated. But I know better, for not all love can disappear. Yet I feel nothing good alive inside me and it's a dangerously dead feeling. I could be dead or alive and it would make no difference. I'm not hysterical or weepy, that's one bad habit I've largely managed to put under some serious check and I'm glad for it, but this peaceful blanket is unnerving for the sheer silence of it, for the sheer immunity it provides from everything around, and for myself.

I feel so terribly inadequate, and that insecurity does not arise externally, because I feel inadequate for myself. Yes, I feel cheated and angry and disappointed with a few people, a few things. Being ignored angers, but being ridiculed without deserving it makes you cry without a whimper. It's amazing how little you mean to anyone and anything, esp when you thought you should have meant something. It's amazing how easy it is for people to walk all over you even though you were there for their need not that long ago. It is a feeling that threatens to kill all kindness and all care inside you, which is a really really dangerous thing. IIT is a bad place; it teaches you all the bad thigs about the bad bad world, important as they are, in a really harsh way. That's probably why surviving IIT is an achievement, and IIM maybe more so, with everyone willing to sell everyone out. It hurts to deserve something and not get it, but it hurts a lot to deserve a little respect and get a lot of ridicule. After so much...God knows I'm tired of the brickbats, and no I don't want any bouquets.

The reason why today reminds me of those days, those times is that I absolutely do not feel I need someone to share all this with now.(A good rant is a different thing, and this post is getting so long hardly anybody would read it, so this is essentially about talking to myself, and I like it)Nobody feels close enough and right enough any more to open up to, and in a way that's a liberating feeling because the habit and expectation of being taken care of makes you postpone sanity and self-care a little longer, and because it hurts much more when nobody shows up when you need them. It's an awesome feeling to not need, to feel low and be okay with it and to remember to fend for yourself. I grew up like that and it's good to see I can still survive like that. The good thing about these days, these times is that everytime they seem unlike those days, those times, someone comes along to gently remind you that 'hey,it's your problem, don't bore me with your stories and just do what you want' or 'hey, you're supposed to fix my problem instead and understand what I need and walk off, thats your job'. It feels nice to have a place, after all, wherever it is. And just like those days, anybody could count the objective 'parameters' in my life and claim it's a good life, but nobody would want to be in it, nobody would want to be me. Except me, of course. I like being me, esp this illusion-shattered me who knows her problem is her chronic disease of investing trust everywhere, but wouldn't do a thing about it.

This semester is coming to a close, and everytime I begin to think about it, it completely overwhelms me. So much has happened in such little time that I don't even know what all has. Exams start monday, and God knows my acads are f***ed big time this sem, but my will to work, to study, to fight, to even try is awfully hard to find. I wish I could crib, "why me?", but I know better. In some instances, I wish I could also complain "why not me?" but I know the futility. You know, you could do so much and still fail at it, just like those times when you do only a little and luck helps you incredibly a lot.

This last year has been so so harsh. Such little good has come out of it. People have come and gone and come and gone etc, life also came and gone and came and gone and toyed with my spirit, my resilience till it got tired of the mochery. And now, at the end of it all, at the end of four years, I feel so empty, so numb, so...finished. And not even in a depressing sort of a way, just completely matter-of-fact empty. As if my job here is done. And although there's still one whole year which I have no clue how I will survive and my head goes into a frenzy trying to look for a point to it every single time, I don't feel I have it in me to live. I will survive, eventually, because there's no reason to just quit, but really, in life's journeys if you eventually come to the same point as you started, why do we even move? Why do we even try? No matter how much you do, how much you slog, how much you love, and how much of yourself you kill and sacrifice, how come it's never enough? Why should I go on?

PS I may be low, but I'm perfectly sane. I will take care of myself, thank you.

Just wondering

...if I died right now, would YOU be happy?

I certainly would be.

Mooning on

"There! Look at the moon. Isn't it amazingly pretty? Bright, full, hopeful. Now look again. Do you see the craters, the dents on its face, the pain that even the night can't hide for it? Is the moon smiling? Is it even watching me down here, an insignificant soul walking alone in the darkness of yet another night? Alone? Am I really alone? I have you, don't I? I'm talking to you as I walk. That means I'm not alone. I have you! But who are you? You are also me right. An invisible intangible unassailable version of me. You're everything that's good about me, and also everything that's bad about me. But I still like you. I like talking to you. Others may call me crazy, but...well..if I did not talk to you, wouldn't this walk be a lot lonelier?"

"Tell me, what do you think of the moon? Is it deceptive? Is it an illusion of beauty or a symbol of hope? Why does it conjure romantic images? Tell me, what do you think of romance? Or love for that matter...is it any good? You know for a long time I believed I was in love merely with the idea of love, with the hard-sold concept. But now, I can't see love and hatred as two distinct things any longer. The more I think about it, the more merged and indistinguishable they seem. It's just an intensity, a passion, a rush in the head when everything spins like crazy, a mere emotion. Emotions are silly things. Some people think my biggest problem, or the biggest discomfort I cause is being too emotional. They are discomforted by me, you see. Why do I care about some people? I don't know why, but it seems I do. Emotions again, I guess, but both you and I have both got used to being foolish and hurt over and over. Yeah, being emotional is a problem. But, there's no me separably apart from this problem. There's no me separably apart from you either. You listen and you understand, and at least you never quit on me, even when I do. You're wonderful."

"But if I confess to you, even with you here, I feel incomplete. I know you're listening but I don't know what I'm saying any more. I feel petty and unwanted. As if this long road I'm walking on is going to stay the same forever...long unwinding and alone. As if this night is never going to fade and I'd never hear another voice. And slowly, you'd get tired and fade away too, or you'd simply get bored of my blabber and run away. Heavens, how much do I talk!!(No wonder they hate it) So I was saying, you may run away too, and then my voice would be lost in the emptiness around me and my ears will go deaf by the silence. Would I still continue to walk? Well, what else. As if there was a choice! But look there, I think the moon is smiling."

"Ah no...the moon's hid now. It must have been saying bye to earth. It would have said bye to me too, I'm sure, if it knew I was here. Anyway, it's darker now. But the breeze is great, right. So tell me, what do you think of the breeze..?"