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

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.

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!

…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

*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.

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!)

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”

Priyanka ‘Dil ne kaisi harkat ki hai!!’

(11 minutes ago · Comment · LikeUnlike · Show Feedback (4) Hide Feedback (4)

You like this.)

Neha Chandok at 6:10am July 11

dil ne kesi harkat ki he, kya dil ne mohabbat ki he…
nazar aata chaand mein uska chehra, khuda ne yeh kya qyamat ki hei..

Priyanka at 6:12am July 11

lagta hai aap bhi is bimari ki mureed hain,tabhi aap bhi shayari kar rahi hain..

Neha Chandok at 6:14am July 11

mureed nai priyanka hum is bimaari k karan ‘murde’ hone wale hein…

Priyanka at 6:18am July 11

hehhehehhe…Way to go

Neha Chandok at 6:22am July 11

****

(Background-I went to meet M after a gap of two-three months. She has lost a lot of extra baggage in one year and plans to continue with it…)

M-You have lost weight again…you look thin, not like how you were after returning from Delhi!

Me-hmm, okay. Thanks!

M-Have I gone fat?

Me-Is that relative?

M-No, but I feel its proportional in a way. Least, by appearance.

****

]]> http://nehachandok.com/2009/07/27/lifes-silly/feed/ 12 http://nehachandok.com/2009/07/17/one-of-my-turns/ http://nehachandok.com/2009/07/17/one-of-my-turns/#comments Thu, 16 Jul 2009 19:12:50 +0000 Gypsy http://nehachandok.com/?p=713 There are no rains and the wait seems to get longer. The screams just escape now, into the dry air and autumn seems far away. Dreams, were they? Where in a land, it rained without a reason? Without a question?

I miss my coffee, books along with it. I miss the cocoon which I’d around me which made me feel safe. I miss the comfort of a knitted quilt and the white noise of the loud blaring TV even when none was giving it an ear. One can just talk to it endlessly. I miss the window from where I saw the world, outside, the rains, the storms, the hills and its natives.

I miss the warm hugs, the concerned scolds, the tantrums I threw, the look that I got for missing food, I miss the nights when I slept and slept without a worry.

I miss-Me. I miss-Life… I miss life in me or maybe I miss me in life…

Now, this family consisted of a husband, his wife and their son. The room was fine, the loo we had to share, food was good, the metro station was a few minutes away and me and A was happy yappy and all excited to see the office life…

I was interning with GH, an ‘I*dia T*day’ publication and my office was at Jhandewalan-yes, the Videocon towers. Now, that’s not important, inne? But yes, wherever you are in the world, there are things which would make you feel like you are at your home town only. Like the taxi drivers, who would always whistle, smile and giggle, turn the music loud, or honk at you if you pass such a place. Moving on, the building was definitely impressive and as soon as I entered I started spotting news readers and faces which by that time I’d only seen on TV.

Soon I got introduced to the lovely receptionist was given a station to work at, having been introduced to the assistant Ed*t*r.

Now, I can’t really account for the whole month and you’d really not like to know about the work part. But I’d like to let you know that the same floor also housed offices of I*dia T*day’s other publications like Cosmop*litan, Harp*r’s Bazaar etc. And here is what all I remember of it

• I hated waking up one hour earlier than A. I hated that totally.
• I loved Saturdays and Sundays-they meant a lot of sleep. A hated me on weekends for I preferred sleeping than roaming.
• An accent-oh yeah! I wouldn’t have realized that I was speaking like the assistant Ed*t*r, had Rushabh not pointed it to me.
• The canteen served good food. It was always full of people with made-up faces but I loved sitting there and watching Delhi under the sky.
• One section of the office was always on fire. Ok. Joking. All I mean is that the girls of that section were very chic and modern. They dressed in latest fads, they walked in high heels, and they looked like they just jumped out of a fashion magazine. So, in short I was Bird watching. And how I loved doing that!
• There were some nice, handsome guys in the same section. Hmm. I thought one was real cute. One day he walked up straight to me and asked where the assistant Ed*t*r was…And I knew he was a gay. Poor luck!
• A lady, at a very good position, wore the same clothes to the office for all the 18 days I went there. Gross, no?
• There wasn’t much work to do… I was real busy only for one week, thus, I would suggest people not to intern with lifestyle magazines.

So, Delhi aka dilli in all was a fun, lively time I had. We stayed the last two days at the savior’s home, his wife is an amazing cook… saw movies like Dev D, Katha, had fun, had prawns, had fun, had chats, had fun and returned back…with loadsa memories…

Yeh dilli he meri jaan…