So, I told him…
Yes, I try, well, try-not to think about ironies of love, or even love for that matter..leaves me with a bad or sullen mood and a bitter taste…
And, what I didn’t tell him was
That somwhere I hoped and I hoped that love would find me again and take me in….
And the madness was there-intact-but what made the difference was that there was no need of hiding it or even showing it, for they both knew each other well enough, to be scared, to care and to pretend everything would burn down to the philosophy they shared, the jokes they cracked, the nostalgia they suffered and the love they just won’t get into!
It was a bright day and a warm one as well. The breeze was an add-on, and the weather could have been precisely dictated by one word…winter sun. And she noticed, how the fate has entangled them and somewhere, none of them was ready to let-go yet not to hold on also. The same fate had made them a kind of pre-requisites, parasitic at times, infalliable, and eventually a sort of-buffer-action for when either of them were messed-up.
They would throw words at each other, kisses at others, hugs were rare, but they were warm and comforting anyhow and they couldn’t stop talking to each other. The worst or the best was they knew what can hurt them…
Over the cup of Cappucino and Cookie ‘n’ cream, she found herself staring at him and saying
“I’m gonna propose you..”
He stared at her, open mouthed, somewhat in an amusing manner. She carried on lightly from there, like she had’t seen his reaction.
“…five or six years later. That would be it-there and there, there and then. You can say no or yes, and it won’t make a difference…and I’m going to tell you the reasons. Love,may be or may be not one of them..”
He smiled at her and said..
“Bitch, you better remmember that!”
Image credits-Flickr
The uncertain future looms large over me
I see nothing;
Yet, I forsee
“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”
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Priyanka ‘Dil ne kaisi harkat ki hai!!’
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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.
****
The mustard’s and greens of the fields are sparkling under crystal dewdrops while the sky remains overshadowed with grey. The blue isn’t to be found anywhere but only if you cross the meadow turning in like a wave in the sea and reach the cascade, where life sprawls and plays in all forms. It’s a jungle in its own, a small jungle…
You hear the old man whistling every now and then. His farm is a warm place on the other side. The forest vibrates with his tunes. His wife is long gone but he has a blue-eyed son and a daughter whose cheeks are as red as the apples in his orchard. His son often comes to fill water at the cascade while she strays off in the forest to collect pines, leaves, and twigs, to weave them together, to wear it in her hair- black as an amavasya night. You won’t find her wearing a flower ever but she would collect them all and give them to him. He doesn’t possess the beauty of his sister but his gaze is as reflective as mirror. Rabbits would often gather around him and he plays with them.
They play in the rains without a worry of spoiling their dresses; they sing to the tit-tat of rain drops while the forest echoes with sounds of their laughter and thunder of clouds. At night, usually he plays flute which even makes a nightingale to stop singing…
The night falls and there is silence as death, in the wilderness…
By now, I’m very sure that I’ve built all the suspense a good (read better) writer needs in order to be successful. So, cutting the long story short, we shifted back to Bangla Sahib, lived there for two days, continued with our PG hunts and finally got one in Moti Nagar.
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
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…
So, fellas me and A after having lovely kebabs, amazing chicken and rice at Colonel Kebabs, saying good byes to the savior and his lovely wife get back to the PG. We had already met 2-3 girls who were living on the same floor and we really didn’t like any of them.
It was around 9.30 and we enter the room only to find that the bedding promised to us hasn’t been provided and instead of two beds there was only one single bed left. As expected, we moved downstairs and to talk to the land lady.
I can’t really tell you how many times we rang the damn bell, how many times we knocked the door, rather in the end we had actually started kicking the door (which was only hurting us ) but no one opened the door. Now, we would have managed on one bed, but we could in no case sleep on a plank of wood without any cushioning. So, me and A spent 2 hours knocking and banging the doors, planning and thinking what should we do, hoping and praying that least someone would help us but only to the extent of futility. Thankfully, there was a small swing there, where we sat.
By now, it was 11.30 and someone in the adjacent building was playing loud music which at that stressful, point of time helped us relax a little bit. We both had a few suggestions like
*sitting there through the night
*sitting on the plank bed through the night
*going out to the market and booking a room in some hotel
*call savior and tell them about the situation
*freak out and call anyone and everyone in Delhi to help us out
I was more bent on the first one and her on the third. We both out rightly rejected 2, 4 and 5 option. Now, at times like these sometimes you know what ‘Luck’ happens to be. A friend of A’s whose home was in south Patel Nagar calls up and gets a peek-a-boo into our situation. In half an hour he and his younger brother come and take us to their home. Aunti ji, a very lovely lady, welcomes us. Now, we finally knew where we were for the night and we laughed with misty eyes. We realized how small a help might be, how much it may mean to someone in need!
At 5’o clock next morning we were again out on the streets, trying to find a place to stay.
Next part would definitely see close of the room-hunt! Promise!
The five days were over…Sigh, they were. Thus, we needed to get out of Bangla Sahib and find where to stay for the rest of the month. Now, for your info C was interning in Chandigarh, which left me and A in Delhi to struggle and shuffle: P. Even though we had many contacts, and those many contacts (pun intended) were trying to find some place for us two, they couldn’t.
We ourselves had been to a few places. Now, me and A had our priorities straight-a good loo, a good enough, airy room with bedding, close to our workstations, close to metro, nominal rates and okay okay food or a dhaba nearby! Not too much to ask for, no? But Delhi Delhi Delhi… we searched it in and out, we couldn’t find one room which could give all this to us. Here is a list of what all we saw-
*A PG in Vasant Kunj- The room was okay. But it had a fridge, it had a fan and it had another entrance. It had those lovely lights. All what we didn’t need. The old lady smilingly told us that she would take only 18 K without any food and only 20K with breakfast. I, till date, don’t understand what kind of breakfast was she going to serve us with in those extra 2K-gold coins? We both were on the verge of collapsing after hearing the rent. As soon as we came out we laughed and laughed till our stomachs ached.
*We went to check out a PG in Lajpat Nagar. We were led in through very very steep stairs by an old man. And then we saw rooms and rooms and rooms on each side just like a chawl in Mumbai. The kitchen was super unclean, the loos-yucks, and had we stayed there we would have died of suffocation.
*Another one was where we thought the man was drunk and the lady of the house was just a little too scared! Of course, we wanted to enjoy and not get into troubles.
Now, originally the classmate P was supposed to stay with us. This entire PG search was going on during the first-five days for we were just trying a better option. P already had a place in mind which was the Sheesh Ganj Gurudwara at Chandni Chowk. When finally on the last day we surrendered our search for the PG, she told us that we had rooms booked. So, me and A just took our luggage and reached Sheesh Ganj. Now, readers, I give you a chance of your lifetime to laugh on me and A for there was nothing like that. The person in charge told us that a slip had to be signed and it was still in process.
Me, being the short-fused one had a good exchange of words that you wouldn’t like to know, with P on the phone. But the fact was that we still didn’t have a place to stay. Finally our savior- A’s dads friend entered (he had been the one suggesting PG’s etc) and we began our search again. By the end of the evening we were damn tired and we both felt that we should choose a place now, whatever and however bad it is.
Thus, finally, in Patel Nagar we saw a PG, actually a hostel which had 50 rooms, a stone eyed servant and a very sharp, clever and greedy sounding lady of the house and we made a call-We were staying there. It was almost dinner time and the locality having a lot of good restaurants, the savior decided to treat us and we tagged along for we also had to find ATM’s to pay the lady.
What happened next, gave me the shock of my life…So, next part I say… again!
*Delhi Diaries- the five heavenly days
So, the previous night we had set our alarm clocks at 6’O clock. Now, there was an important development the previous evening.
The coming of A-she had reached the place late in the evening and somehow knowing that she was a nice girl, I didn’t want to leave her alone in what I knew was turning out to be jungle. So, I proposed to her that she stays in our room which by now had four girls already. She was okay with the idea. So, that makes us five girls in one room. A, me, C and two whom I would not like to mention again but would have to.
So, I rubbed my eyes, got up, got ready as we were to visit…(before you all jump out of your seats and get super excited I warn you please stay calm or you might get a heart attack) the Parliament. Yes, our Parliament! So what if we were made to line in front of the Parliament gate like we were Nursery class kids, if we were not allowed to take any pics-outside or inside, if we were secluded from our mobile phones, if we were checked, double checked and triple checked, we were at India’s PARLIAMENT after all. Now, If I start describing you the marvel Parliament is, you would be freaking jealous and I won’t like that. But trust me, it was an amazing tour. We saw Rajya Sabha, Lok Sabha, we visited the museum, we saw Nehru deliver the famous independence speech (okay, even if it was a wax statue), and we walked Dandi March with Gandhi etc etc. Yes, by this time we were damn tired and so we had lunch in the Parliament’s canteen and it was bloody cheap for people who earn a lot better than anyone in the whole damn country.
Anyways, the next five days, we loved it and loved it more. Though, problems in the room had started eating my peace. A, C and me were well off but putting the other two was a bad idea. How bad, I can’t even explain! So, we visited AIR, met RJ’s from Rainbow, PIB, PCI, India Today etc. We were traveling on our own. The good thing was we were staying at Bangla Sahib which was close to almost each place, we were just walking on foot and we took a bus only once when we had to go to CGO. Thus, we literally tasted ‘dilli ki dhool’.
It was real fun when we managed to reach India Gate, after loosing our way countless times and then when the three of us used to walk to CP every night to a dhaba whose rajma/kadi chawal, I still can’t forget. Bargaining in Janpath was real fun, and it turned out that A was the only one who knew how to do it and do it well…
next part, i say!
