Monday, 18 June 2018

Happy Middle!

“May came home 
with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and 
as large as alone.”

As my head hits the pillow, I turned sideways and pulled the sheets up, closed my eyes and tried best to sleep. 
My brain was going berserk, by thinking and maybe overthinking. 

I was so smitten that all I could think of is her face. 
The curl of her lips. 
Knuckles of her hands.
That round little nose. 
Cracks in the corner of her black eyes. 
Strands of hair on her forehead. 
And the ears! Yes the ears, with those shiny little earrings.

Ah! I wish I could paint. Like one of those renaissance painters.I would adorn my walls with her portraits.

I picked my mobile and wrote a text for her and deleted it.Did it again.And summoned my courage again but in vain.

So instead I texted a friend of mine.
“Dude! I met her today. And I am very smitten.”

He replied: “Avoid using the word ‘very’ because it’s lazy. A man is not very tired, he is exhausted. Don’t use very sad, use morose. Language was invented for one reason, boy - to woo women - and, in that endeavor, laziness will not do. “

“Okay grammar-nazi asshole! I get you.Will you fucking pay heed to what I am saying.” I replied agitated by his untimely linguistic sermon.

“Alright peasant! Shoot! All ears.”

“Attaboy!” I replied and continued.
“So I met Kannan! My only right right swipe. And oh boy! I think she is the one!”

“Don’t ejaculate prematurely. Give it some time. Crazy Fuck!.” He replied.

“Alrighty.” I replied back knowing I am overthinking about it like always and went back to sleep only to be woken up byknock on the door and shouting of my mother realizing I am late for the office.

So I dressed up without taking bath, just sprinkling the remaining drops of my perfume. Drinking the cup of milk, which according to my mom is the elixir and eating the boiled egg on my way out of the house. And as I was about to leave the house my mother again shouted my name and as I looked back she tossed me a apple, which I slipped into my bag.

After few minutes of walk I was at metro station.My destination was nine stations away, which was enough a time to move inside the metro instead of standing near the exit door. 

I moved to the conjoining part of the coaches lean against the rubber strips, listening to Linkin Park as kind of a  tribute to Chestor. A couple came in front of me holding hands, facing each other. 
And my eyes sent a quick reminder to my brain about Kanan. And how much I wish to be with her right than and there. 

So texted her instantly
“Sugar Pie! I think I have digested the Denver Omelette! My stomach is asking for me.
“Coffee always help.” She replied instantly.
Which brought a stupid smile on my face.
“What time?” I asked.
“6 ish.” 
“Starbucks.CP.?” I asked 
“Sounds like a plan.” She confirmed.

Long before I knew , we were in the lift of Warehouse cafe. Our tongues were in each other’s mouth. All I can taste is strawberry of her lip balm and whiskey she drank. My hands were  grabbing her ass. The button of the sleeve of her denim jacket was cold and touching my neck, and she was trying to kiss me deeper.

The lift bell rang. And we were at ground floor. We walked to the nearby kiosk and bought cigarettes, sat at the the bench. I pulled her near and rolled the sleeves of her jacket, and adjusted her hair behind her ears and marvel at the beauty that she was. 

Took her hand in mine and noticed a little red mark just above her wrist and below the thumb.

“How did that happen?”
“Its a birthmark.”
“Okay. I wish I could be as permanent in your life as this mark.”
“Only change is permanent dear boi!” She chuckled.
“Oh! Damn my parents didn’t named me ‘Change’ else I could have been permanent.” I retorted.
“You’re witty.”
“You’re pretty.”
“That makes a pretty deadly combo.”
And she laughed and I laughed too.
“You want to walk?” I asked.
“Nah, I am good.” she took off her shoes and light the cigarette and lay down in my lap.
I couldn’t resist kissing her forehead, which she really liked as she closed her eyes and took a deeper drag from the cigarette moreover she was under little influence of the alcohol, her voice was getting coarse, she said.
“Can you play some music my boi!”
“Your wish is my command, your honor.” and played Ella Fitzgerald

Her melodies voice filled the air as she sang 
“Couldn't sleep and wouldn't sleep
When love came and told me
I shouldn't sleep.”
Kanan Straightened up and light another cigarette, and said “She is good.” And with a pause she said “ You enjoy classics.”
“I do.” 
And for couple of moments we were silent enjoying the music.

“I reckon,you appreciate classics too. And I strongly recommend you to watch Casablanca.”
“You mean the movie Casablanca?” 
She enquired.
“Yes. The movie.”
“You mean Netflix and chill?” She winked and pulled my cheek.
“Yes.Netflix and Chill.” 
I repeated my answer with a smirk.

“That was smooth.” She patted my back, and continued “I have already seen it, but its worth a second time.”
“Did you like the ending? Don’t you think Rick should have stopped Ilsa?” I asked curiously.
“I think he was right in letting her go.”
“I doubt that.”
“You seems like a fan of happy endings.”
“Are you not?”
“Perhaps I am not. Endings are always painful. I would rather settle for a happy middle.”
“Okay.” I said severely hit by cruelty of reality she was trying to explain.
And I light a cigarette. Song changed and Elvis started singing “Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go,
You have made my life complete and I love you so.”

She smiled and said “I am in love with your playlist.”

We booked a uber and went home eating the apple.

And this love season continued for few months.

And one fine day I texted her. The message wasn’t delivered for hours and hours. I tried calling, number was switched off.
I was worried and wondering what could have happened. Where she could have gone.

And a day passed.

No contact. Whatsoever.

I contacted her friends. They informed she has gone somewhere, they don’t know where.
My anxiety grew and grew.
Another day passed.

To my relief, my mobile beeped and screen flashed
“Text Message Received: Kanan.”
I swiped it open and it reads.

“We had our happy middle. I love you and will always do. I shifted to Paris. Couldn’t tell you before.”
And another message came:
“Please don’t try and contact. Let’s keep it this way.”

“Comeback and makeup a goodbye at least.” I replied falling short of words to say.

And final message:
“Lets pretend we had one.”

And like that. Poof! She was gone.

Wednesday, 13 June 2018

Wallflower

Lying on the buggy of the camel ride under the pitch black sky, full of stars with no trace of clouds whatsoever.I was staring at the stars,trying to connect them and form some constellation, but in vain.

"My thoughts are stars,I cannot fathom into constellation" I recalled Gus telling this to Hazel. I felt the very same way, I have so many thoughts which were scattered,numerous things to share but they were not organised ,I can't put them together to make a logical sense out of it.

Sand beneath has turned ice like, I submerged my feet in it and it was sending a nip of chill down my spine. The breeze was soothing and had an alien smell to it.

Keshav was sitting on the small stairs of the buggy, shuffling the pictures in his mobile, trying to zero in his dp for all social media accounts.

While Yogesh was strolling in the desert,with only his silhouette visible to the naked eyes over the humps of sands in the desert, talking on his mobile to some of his girls.

In some distance the herd of camels were sitting on the cold sand, tied to a pole, grunting and munching the grass, lost in there own thoughts, just like three of us.

The lights of the camp on the other side of the road were dimmed, which was an indication for us to go inside.

Yogesh came back from his leisurely stroll looking little dejected.

"What happened bro?!" Keshav enquired
I straightened up in the buggy and made some space for Yogesh to sit.He ruffled his hair with both hands tilting his head sideways, climbed up the buggy, and said in exasperation
"I am so fucked"

I replied "We all are."

Keshav giggled and said "Completely agree, we all are fucked in one way or the other, and that's why we do this. Road trips."

Yogesh interrupted "There are things that even a road trip cannot fix."

I curiously asked "Like what?"

"Oblivious behaviour of your closed ones. That feeling when you feel being replaced by someone." he answered.

"We all are replaceable, however good we may be. There is always someone round the corner ready to grab our place." I explained, based on my recent experience.

"The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in overselves." Yogesh ruffled his hair again quoting Shakepeare.

Keshav said "Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn't stop for anybody.Face it and enough with your philosophical shit." and played "Afghan Jalebi" on his mobile.

We all started clapping in tune to music and jumped on the sand and started dancing.
Forgetting everything else.

So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be. 



Thursday, 8 March 2018

Table For Two

"Audi alterampartem"
"What does that mean?" I asked little confused.
"It means 'Hear the other side' its latin baby. Its a legal maxim." She explained.
"I am all ears.Tell me the other side."

She smirked a little and said "There isn't any other side to it. Me and her just don't go well together."

"Truth be told. I find this rather unusual.
Maybe because I haven't seen any mother and daughter duo, who don't jell well. Allow me to say its little unorthodox."

"Maybe that's how I am. Unorthodox. Some may say paradox or whatever. I don't give a rat's ass." She explained.

"I am sold." I whispered to myself. Floored by her brazen and rebelliously brimming credence. 

There was silence on the table. Except for the sound of the fork touching the china plates, in which we're having fried eggs with sunny side up, as ordered by her.

I was staring into nothingness thinking about my mother and her affection and endless love, which I always takes for granted. And it got me thinking I can never be like her, or to put it lucidly I don't wanna be like her. Yet the clarity in her thoughts is drawing me towards her.

And she put her fork down and adjusted her hair into a bun. Took a sip of her filter coffee, leaving the marks of her lip color on the white mug.

The song in background changed to
"All You Need Is Love."

I started humming and asked her "You like The Beatles?"
"Yes. They are more than a band they are an institution."
"Who is favorite among them? Mine is Paul." I asked excitedly since its The Beatles.
"Ringo... Ringo Starr." She declared with a pause in her voice.
"But nobody likes Ringo Starr." 
"That's why I like him."  She said with a broad smile.
I smiled too at her unusual choice and conviction which was working like a kryptonite for me.

She took a big bite of her chocolate donut, which left chocolate marks on the corner of her lips, and she licked it. Which made me want to kiss her. But I didn't.
I eat my croissant and washed it down by big gulp of masala tea.
"What's your equation with your mother?" She asked.
And I lyrically replied with a couplet 
"Sakht Raho Pe Bhi Asan Ye Safar Lagta Hai,
Ye Mujhe Meri Maa Ki Duaaon Ka Asar Lagta Hai."

"I wish I too could say such fancy words, about mine." She said with a sad smile.

I waited for a minute for the moment to pass and inquisitiveness kicked in, I asked her for little background for such gloom.

"Its long story." She said trying to eschew the topic, but I insisted her to share the story and told her,
"Sadness shared is halved. Happiness shared is doubled."

"Okay! Here it is.She left me and my father when I was 16 and married some other guy and came back to us two years later. 
Because the guy she married left her, for someone else. 
And my father readily accepted her again, as if nothing has happened between them."

"I am sorry to hear that. But if I may ask. Do you blame your father for that?"

"I don't. He is a good man, I think he did it for me. And partly for himself maybe." 

"What do think made your father accept her again.Do you think physical needs sometimes overpower the emotional needs?" I asked

She sat quietly blowing the smoke in the wind from her cigarette and taking long drags contemplating the different notions in her mind before speaking up.

"First of all you should know sometimes, the commonality between two people is more important than love. Love can make you adore someone, but spending your whole life, is a different ballgame all together.
And I think my father and mother have a lot in common.
And second of all, physical needs can never be greater than emotional needs."
And she took a deep breath and chain smoked.
While I sat across, thanking God for giving me simpler problems in life.