Archive for the ‘General’ Category

Shades of love

Like the earthen green,with brown in hints. like the crimson gold, in the mixture of dusk, with blue and yellow and orange with sheen, and fluffy white on days of rain. like the wet silver and the hollow black, with wild waters deep. like the flickering yellow of candle light, with romance in air and blank noise of words.

like the white of satin sheets, the brown of skins, her hair and his eyes, the purple of her sari, flowers in the garden and his favorite books cover. like the pink in her sweater, the blush and his hug.

What shade is your love? :-)

In one line…

You were HOME to me…

A letter to him…

The rains were a torrent, cold was setting in. There was a beauty to it, the mirror in her balcony reflecting all the green and wet. Her silly thoughts didn’t escape.

He had asked her to write to him.

It was never this difficult, she thought. Never! But she wouldn’t give up. She wrapped her stole and started turning the pages of her diary. One by one, she went through all her diaries, feeling hungry for words. She found his song, and admired the neat, slanted handwriting, the smell of the paper as if he was there, close to her. She read the lines again and again and sung them, within herself.

From one blog to another, she hopped on, moving quickly from one word to another, thinking that some word would be right-to start-to tell him what she wanted to, what he would like to.

It had never been this difficult.

On the contrary, she knew even if all he got was an empty paper he wouldn’t mind; he wouldn’t even question her, how and what of it.

But then she had to write. More so because anyways she wrote for him and as she had noted, he was indispensable to her writings. Those stories are all about him, each word talked to him, if it didn’t talk about him. If he wouldn’t read them, the words lost their sheen, the meaning lost, they appeared like carcasses. And she thought more and more, about what she would write to him, what can probably come close to justifying what she felt and how she felt.

When he got the letter, he found a crushed, blank paper; close to the edge of the paper, in small letters, with a green ink, was written…

I fall in love with you, everyday!

Why the first one is the hardest one?

Before you ask me, let me tell you that this post would answer all questions of yours regarding my whereabouts and the reason for no-show, whatsoever. Now, that I have managed to get you all settled, here I go.

Life is a journey and well, we all love being travelers. The whole idea of finding your destiny not only appeals to us but also excites us. Enough of philosophy, eh?! So, I was almost between three cities-or to be more accurate between two cities and one town- Delhi, Chandigarh, Simla…

The good news is that I am a post graduate finally, for those who consider degrees as education and the bad news was I had no job. Even though I call myself ‘gypsy’ and as much believe in the free-spiritedness, trust me I do need to earn as well.

Anyhow, coming back to what I essentially meant to write about. The first job is the hardest one; and when I say that minus all the part time jobs you’ve done, no matter how boring they were, the first full time job is the HARDEST. Here are a few reasons why…

  • You’ve to get up almost the same time everyday. EVERY SINGLE DAY!
  • You can’t bunk. No bunking. It is not your college or university where you can access how much of attendance you have and then go to sleep thinking ‘ah, all right I’d cover up next week.’
  • Also, even if you’re to make an excuse, the pleasure of sharing it is all gone. Like in college you can’t text your group at the eleventh hour saying, let’s bunk today or say see you in the second lecture-am sleepy.snooze!
  • The fact is there are no second lectures-it is a full day!
  • You are in a strange world with stranger people around. Lucky you if you’re around home, but for most of us it’s the other way around. We’ve to find another home which comes closest to being at home. And that takes a lot of time.
  • You’re apprehensive about the job, work, and culture of the firm you’re working with.
  • You don’t know how to react to jokes of your colleagues and maybe which is why silence is the best policy was ever said.
  • You wait for the weekend like anything and on the weekend you don’t know what to do.

Here are some of mine, add on yours :)

Stuck in a moment

Me and you are stuck in a moment.

It’s like a movie, where there is a co-centric movement to a specific scene. You might go to and fro, I might move around in circles, but we have to come back to the moment-again and again.

There is lot more to this moment, which our eyes can see or our minds can make out of it; a lot more that our hearts know and feel. We might not even feel the same about this, ironically, but it is inseparable now. We rather depend on it-this moment-more or so. It is one thing that connects me and you. One thing, the only, that is and shall always be common between us. Like a pact, its mutual and its silence is more than comforting. You watch it-replay this moment, muted, while I give in to the blaring sounds, deafening every other thought.

It’s like a pause, if not a full stop. It gives us our space, like a breather, it lets us accommodate better; it leads to a decision- a better one at that. We do and we shall remember each other, for this moment.

We would always remain, forever, in our lives stuck in a moment.


Quagmire

‘I wish I’d spent more time with you’

I keep on thinking about what you said to me. Even tonight I fail to believe you could have done any more than you already did. I told you so.

I, on the other hand, would not trade anything, not even a moment, even in exchange of more. The future does give a better perspective of things in the past. Every thing we did, everything we said, everything we didn’t say, has a justified reason somewhere, however, small, minute it may sound, the fact is-it was just.

At times, even your return does only qualify for redemption. Redemption of things which you thought went ugly, correction of facts which otherwise shouldn’t have existed, more time, more attention, more pleasure. And wouldn’t the ‘more’ lead to ‘much’ pain? On whose side, has never been the argument between us.

The whole process of erasing and rewriting seems to be taking place. Washing away the old names only to be written in a different handwriting; why do we forget that waves of time would anyhow swallow them! They’d be gone, again, forever.

The fact is we would never change. Only you and me will!

random

Now, as the cliché ‘life moves on’

…the scents fade in, the world turns on, the victor braves the biggest loss, your war is your cause and its nobody’s but yours, more within than you can know, the mockery of the soul, tic-toc-tic-toc-the clocks say it all…

in a life you have never known

Sunset(s)

*I didn’t understand him much when he asked me not to judge people.

*He also told me- do good and forget it.

* He repeated- don’t expect. Not even a smile! But that shouldn’t stop you from giving one.

* He quoted people. He had his favorites too. But I never really saw him ‘dislike’.

* He read books. He gave me a few!

* He told me stories.

* He said ‘Kid, I love you’

***

He died!!!

I thought I would never meet a man like him again;

I met him…

He went away too.

Only once…

Only once in your life,
I truly believe,
you find someone who can completely turn your world around.

You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more.

You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you.

When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement.

Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful.

You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end. Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile. Your only hope and security is in knowing that they are a part of your life.

-Bob Marley

(Tonight, the words sound so right! Thanks to Americanising Desi for introducing me to these!)

The book thief…

“A tale of love, living, colors, friendship, survival told by death. A tale of words, stories and their power. A tale of a thief-a book thief. ”

That’s how I would surmise if you ask me what the Book thief is all about! I’m not reviewing it, particularly not in a manner which is conventional. But I’m mesmerized by the book. Completely!

But I’d like to tell you that it’s a must have. Written by Markus Zusak, I think it’s the best I have read after Manto’s Black Margins. The settings are of Nazi Germany and the story begins with the Liesel Merminger, a little girl being sent to foster parents.

She adapts to her new home, her new parents, the foul mouthed Rosa Hubermann, Liesel’s adoptive mother and Hans, her new father. To me, the three come together as a family never separated. Liesel journey continues with her nightmares, her bed wetting, the football with Rudy (her best friend) and a little stealing.

In a way, Liesel’s love of books can’t be described, it’s not because she knows how to spell the words or know them at all but because she picks up her first book from the grave of her dead brother. There is a bit of suspense until you discover that a Jew called Max Vandenburg visits their home for shelter in lieu of a promise made by Hans Hubermann during First World War. The family hides him.

The Second World War has already begun and gets closer to them and so does death, where Liesel miraculously escapes. I prefer not to reveal the end, for it’s much more than a simple escape from death for Liesel and for death.

The narrative is strong and grabs your attention. The first half may be a little slow but the peels reveal off just at the right time. I think it’s a book to be enjoyed, a book to be loved, and a book with some lovely insights, some thoughts that can’t just cross your mind until you read it. Its in all a new perspective.

“Trust me, though, the words were on their way, and when they arrived, Liesel would hold them in her hands like the clouds, and she would wring them out like rain.-the book thief”