A-minor

I am,
A tune on a minor scale,
with rhymes to buy from whoever will sell;
The occasional laughter in my dreams
and a life slowly coming apart at the seams.
A new old book with yellowed pages,
scribbles on the margins and frayed edges,
and a flower pressed inside for no one to find,
its scent still lingering in the nooks of my mind...

I was re-reading some of my old poems a while back, and there was E-minor, something I had written almost exactly two years back.This poem is different from that in almost all possible ways, but for me they are somehow related...

Image Courtesy - Place Promised in Our Early Days, by Makoto Shinkai

For No One

Does it rain in your dream tonight,

or do you tread snow?

And if the road is there no more

would you know where to go?

Does the sunset shine on your eyes

or glow behind your back?

Will you touch roadside flowers,

fill the colours they lack?

Will you be my blurry sky

when it rains and rains

will you let me hold your hand

as we both go insane...

Does it hurt every time you smile

across tear stained glass?

Whenever you turn back and wave

at the days that have passed?

Image Courtesy - Voices of a Distant Star, by Makoto Shinkai.

Frayed Dreams

and when it rains while i dream tonight

and my senses can feel only in gray,

will there be a pavement where footsteps echo,

or a breeze carrying words we don't say?

and when our laughter is but a memory

fading with each passing thought,

will there be anyone to walk with me

and look for what I've always sought?

and while the grass grows longer

around us where we stand,

if i open my fingers out against the wind

will i feel the touch of a hand?

our shadows they cross each other

but never quite seem eye to eye.

for we once forbade their smiles to touch,

though they still don't understand why...

Image courtesy - 5 Centimeters per Second, by Makoto Shinkai

make believe

i walked in through your dreams
into your dreams
stepped right across your mind
and across the seams
tha hold your heart together
when you don't believe
if you put you and I together
what you get ain't we.

and why can't you see
that we ain't meant to be
won't you let me leave
let me listen to my own heart beat
and in a haze of grey
when there's nothing more to say
all that's left
is make believe...

i can write you another song
if you like
but know that it will be
just another lie
can't you find your own way out
i don't have the time
coz you put you and I together
give me back the I

and if you put you and i together,
its still make believe....

tata/tada

I shall be on hiatus till I get my life sorted out a bit. Right now, I have just too many things to juggle with. Hopefully I won't be away for long.
Cheers!

Dreams

me likes flowers on the roadside,
me likes my smile reflected in my eyes.
me likes the wind billowing through my clothes,
and touching the water as the stream softly flows.

i like the sunshine on my neck,
i like the ripples as the air touches the lake.
i like to fly on the sky so high,
wishing the mundane world goodbye.

me wants to feel snowflakes on my tongue,
me wants to sing loud songs yet unsung.
me wants to lie down; count the stars
or smile to the sun as do the flowers.

i want to feel the touch of silence.
i want to believe in things that don't make sense.
i want to hold hands with my imaginary friend
and wish our good times never have to end.

we all have lives which are dreams,
pictures we want to paint on the frames
of our lives; looking forever for a moment
which could fill us with wonderment.

stop bugging me...me wants to dream awhile more...

MAGNETS AND MIRACLES (part II)

I want to touch a song
of snow capped mountains,
of roads winding and long,
and crystal clear fountains.

I want to write a lay
that sings of a dreamy sunset,
walking hand in hand on a rainy day,
and of people i've never met.

I want to pen a poem
about really mundane things,
of bread baking in the oven
and mittens on cold winter evenings.

I want to be a picture
of fluffy white clouds
lazing in the skies of summer,
and of songs bereft of doubt.

I want to be a magician,
wreathe spells in blue ink on white paper
that will give this dream a reason
to go on and on and on forever....

reetam is a good boy! :-P

Gourab Dutta : Toke shobshomoy emon bhalo manush bhalo manush lage keno bol to????
Reetam Majumder :  aami bhalomanush bole, of course. DUH!

Last Train Home

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 15; the fifteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

He slowly walked across the platform and sat down on the same bench as every day. The clouds seemed to follow him overhead. It started to drizzle, almost imperceptibly. The same time. Same bag with him. He sat there, waiting. Dusk would wrap her blanket around him in sometime.
Maybe she will come today...

1.
She woke up to raindrops on her face, stealing glances at her through the train window.
I must have dozed off.
 
Instinctively she reached inside the pages of the book on her lap. To reassure her that the letter was still there. That was her fragment of hope. Her hope to find what she was looking for.


Sylvia had grown up without a father. Her mother had never tried to hide anything from her, and as soon as Sylvia was old enough to understand, had explained why her dad was never around. We had a huge row, she had said. Your father was a good man, and we loved each other a lot. But someone got it into my head that there was another woman. I confronted him. He denied it. I didn't believe him back then. So he stormed out and never came back. And then the war came and everything was lost. I found out much later that I was wrong. But neither of us knew you were coming, back then. Not till a few weeks after. Maybe things would have been different then....

But her mother had never let her feel the absence of a father. She had not remarried. Her daughter had been her life from then on. Sylvia, she had named her. I have had the most amazing mother ever. And i miss you so much now, Mom.

2.
The station master had gotten used to the man sitting on the bench at the far end of the platform. He could see him if he looked out of his window. He remembered the first time he had seen him. And then, every day after that, day after day. It had been over a month now. He had tried asking him after the first couple of days why he came there every day. I am waiting for someone, that was his reply. The station master had been unable to get more out of him.

He came there every day a few minutes before the evening train arrived and sat down on the same bench. Right after the train left, so would he. Sometimes he would seem to look intently at one of the passengers, but it might have been his imagination. The station master knew him by name, of course. It was a small place. He had worked in the only hotel in town. Till back then, of course. Maybe it has got something to do with the incident there, the station master thought absently, getting back to his book.

3.
Dear Martha, the letter started...

It had arrived a few weeks after her mother's funeral, with the first rains of the season. It took her a few minutes to realise that the person writing the letter was her father. In an instant, the sound of the thunder and the rain and the windows banging against the frames had all ceased. There seemed to be a hushed silence in her world at that moment. Her heart had either stopped or was beating really, really fast; there was hardly any difference between the two at that moment. She had had to hold on to the banister for support before she could continue reading.

How can I ever apologise enough for leaving you? I was so angry when you did not believe me that night. Something came over me and in a drunken fit I went and conscripted myself. By the time I had come to my senses, the ship had set sail. And then when I returned, the house was gone. Since then, I have spent all these years looking for you. All this time. Believing that you were out there somewhere.
Carefully formed letters. Slightly halting. As if carrying a burden of guilt. 

I still stand by what I said that night. You have been the only one in my life. I have spent so long trying to find you. And now I have. I may have failed you as a husband, but will you give me a chance to make amends now?
Her hands shook as she read the rest of the letter.

The next day, she wrote back.
My name is Sylvia. I am the daughter of Martha Robinson. I am really sorry to have to tell you this, but mother passed away last month. However,.....
She mentioned her phone number in the letter. A week after sending the letter, her father called. Both their voices were shaky. She felt strange at having found a parent right after losing one.

4.
Keith remembered the man perfectly. Somewhere in his sixties. There was a strange shine in his eyes, like a kid being taken to the carnival. He had checked in that evening. Didn't carry a lot of luggage. Just one bag.  Can I make a phone call, he had come down and asked later on. Sure, Keith had replied back from behind the counter.
Sylvia, it's me.
Yes, I'm in a hotel for the night. Mayfair Lodge, I think the name is. 
Yes, I'll be taking the early morning train. It is the only one which goes towards that direction, anyway.
Me too. You do not know how much I am looking forward to this. I will see you tomorrow. Good night. 
Returning the telephone, he had remarked, that was my daughter. I shall be seeing her for the first time tomorrow.
Keith had looked duly curious. The old man had noticed that look and gone on to tell him the story of his life. Of the woman he had loved and lost, of the war, of coming back and looking for her year after year, never giving up hope. Of finding her, only to know that she had passed away. Of the daughter he never knew he had.
The two of them had talked late into the night. Talked about a million things.Two strangers brought together by a quirk of fate and tied together by the ticking clock for a few fragile chance moments. And then the old man had said good night and gone back up to his room, wishing tomorrow to come as soon as possible.

5.
They had spoken for hours. Conversation was a bit stilted in the beginning, but they had soon grown comfortable talking to one another. He called her again the next evening and told her that he would be coming down immediately if she was okay with it. Start the next day and reach on Sunday. Then he had called her on Saturday night from some town where he was staying in overnight. Said he would catch the early train next morning and reach the same evening.

And then he had disappeared. When he didn't come the next day, she assumed he might have missed his train. Days passed by and he still did not arrive. Or call. Or write. A million possibilities flashed through her head, none of them pleasant. But she was determined about one thing - she was not about to lose her father again.

She had only the name of the hotel his father had been staying in to go by. She did not even know which town it was in. It had never crossed her mind to ask him. It took her almost a month to find out where the hotel might have been. A town not far from her own, half a day's journey away. A little place called Alston, tucked away in the countryside. Only one train from there to where she lived. It all fitted. And so she was on her way to Alston, apprehension and hope fighting for space in her rapidly beating heart.

6.
Keith had dozed off at the counter. The burning smell that woke him up was overpowering. Everywhere he looked was thick with fumes. Shades of orange flickered all around him. He somehow made it out, groping in the darkness. Only the staff and the guests on the ground floor were able to get out before the building collapsed in a heap of leaping flames and cinders. Everyone on the first floor was lost in the fire. Nobody had any idea as to how it had started. But all he could think about was the man who would now never meet his daughter.

He had gone back amongst the debris the next day. Not much was left of the old man's room. He had still looked and looked till he found a tin box with a few of the man's possessions; a photograph of the man when he was young, holding hands with a pretty girl, the edges of the photo charred. A couple of letters, a few more photos, a silver pocket-watch. The box was itself charred and had become disfigured in the heat. He had kept it with him. Every single day after that, he went and waited at the station in the evening. Waiting for the man's daughter to come. Something told her she would. So he waited.

7.
She looked out of the window as the train slowed down. The sky was overcast, and it was still drizzling. There did not seem to be a soul in sight. Just a man sitting at the far end of the platform on a bench, watching the train coming in. She got off as the train came to a halt and walked towards the station master's office. The man on the bench slowly got up as well and started walking towards her...

He saw her get off the train. He knew it was her. She looked just like the young lady in the photograph. Dreamily, he stood up and walked towards her.

Sylvia?
Sylvia stopped dead on her tracks, and stared at the person standing in front of him. Thin and about her age, looking pale in the failing light, with blue eyes that were sad and distant. How does this man know my name? How did he know I would be here now?
You're Sylvia, aren't you? he asked again.
Yes? Who are you? Do I know you?
No, but I know a bit about you.
I don't understand.
I knew your father... for a little while.
He took the tin box out of the bag and held it out for her.
This was his. He would have wanted you to have this. 
I don't understand. Where is my father? How do you know him? How did you know I was coming?

And then she noticed the box properly for the first time, blackened and distorted. She could still make out the Jacques Robinson etched on the cover. With shaking hands she took the box from him and opened the lid. Right on top was an old photograph of a woman she knew was her mother with a man who she realised must be her father.
I am sorry, the man broke in softly, but your father never made it past the night he spoke with you last. But he really, really wanted to meet you. You meant the world to him.

I... she looked at him, her brain refusing to form coherent thoughts. He looked right back into her eyes, and a deep sadness that had been there since the day of the fire passed through the miles separating the two of them and into her eyes. And she knew. The wind had suddenly picked up, as if realising the turmoil in her heart, their hearts. Words failed her as comprehension started to dawn, like a bitter pill being pushed down her throat. Her legs were no longer able to take the weight of the emotions heaving through her, and she sat down on the platform, a blank look on her face. Keith bent down and gently brought her back on her feet and started walking her towards the shed.

It had started raining heavily, so he couldn't really tell if she was crying.
Or maybe she is, he thought, looking up at the skies breaking down on them.



---
 Thank you Sayali for helping me write this out and not give up midway.

a kingly conversation

i am your king. hello. hello?
learn to pay attention.
or i'll have you beheaded.
oh, did you take me seriously?
i was just kidding.
don't look so glum now.
....
i dont like that smirk either.
what?
you think its easy being a king?
you WHAT?
you think its fun?!
FUN!?!
it is not, trust me.
why, you ask?
ohkkay...

i have
an endless number of queens to please
whose tantrums, requests never cease.
i would always prefer to be in battle
than hear them incessantly rattle
on about each others' flaws,
with me perpetually at a loss
as to what to say or where to run,
oh! I should have married just one
and been happy with a single queen.
kingship ain't as fun as it seems.

you see my point?
want to hear some more?
no, no. don't you stop me now....

every single night and day,
mad uncles and cousins i keep at bay,
who always plot to murder me
in most interesting ways, you see.
but they never seem to realise
that the very moment this king dies,
whoever comes next would hardly be
any different from poor old me.
their heads will also finally roll,
kingship always takes its toll.

whew.
see? being a king,
i'm normally expected to speak in rhymes.
oh. really?
you really think so?
the bards can rhyme them on their own?
even if i speak normally, like this?
wow!
i never would have known.
thank you very much.
do drop by my castle sometime.
i don't get too many guests.
yes, its right around the corner.
yes, this is my stop.
i would be getting off now.
nice to meet you...
yes, goodbye now...

if nobody speaks of remarkable things - jon mcgregor

"A quiet sunday afternoon, the last day of smmer. In his room at No 18, a nervous young man is storing his things: a small clay figure, covert photographs of his neighbours, pieces of urban junk. Two doors down, a blonde girl is packing her possessions, uncertain of where she's going next. Across the road, a mother and father are sneaking away to the bedroom and locking the door; a houseful of young people are emerging from their night before; a man is painting the window-frames of his house. There is cricket, a barbecue, music, voices drifting from open windows - it had seemed such an ordinary afternoon on an ordinary street.

But this is an extraordinary day, like any other. A day crammed full of the unspoken, of love stories, unacknowledged grievances, unwitnessed triumphs, and, as the day falls to a close, a terrible moment of tragedy.

Later, the blonde girl will remember this day again and again; and when a chance meeting causes her to look through the young man's box of personal archives, she will wonder at the photographs of all these people she knew nothing about. And she will ask herself how she never noticed the the boy from No 18 was in love with her.

With heart-stopping clarity, the lives of a city street are brought indelibly before the reader, taken on focus like Polaroids on the page."

I was taken in by the time I had read the first paragraph; 'The city, it sings...'.

I will draw a comparison with one of my favourite authors here, Kazuo Ishiguro. In many ways this book is the opposite of an Ishiguro novel. Ishiguro's prose is taut, flawless. Jon Mcgregor does not seem to care much for capitalisation, separation of direct speech from the indirect, or for punctuation where it is sometimes expected. Ishiguro has the protagonist narrating the whole story. Jon lets the protagonist narrate the present, while he intersperses the narration with his own background of the past, a narrator who does not want to give away all he knows, and slowly eases the reader into the story; very similar to the way Haruko Murakami narrates in After Dark.

In some other ways, though, the author shares a lot with Ishiguro. Both authors can make you feel the wind on your face, the rain dripping from your hair and down your back. Both can make words come alive, not with flamboyant gestures but with a quiet assurance. Both have an undercurrent of deep melancholia which makes a beautiful contrast to the not so few smiling bits in the stories.

If Ishiguro writes poetry, Jon Mcgregor has written beautiful lyrics to the city's music in his book. It has been a while since I've read something this beautiful, this poignant. This book is absolutely gorgeous in a very quiet, understated way. If you can find it, read it. It will haunt you.....

'I look at my room, at the table with the flowers and the pot of tea, the two cups, I think how nice two cups on a table can look.'

'And there's a smell in the air, swelling and rolling, a smell like metal scraped clean of rust, a hard cleanness, the air tight with it, sprung, an electric tingle winding from the ground to the sky, a smell that unfurls in the back of the mouth, dense, clammy, a smell without a name but easy to recognise and everyone in the street knows it, besides the children, everyone is smelling the air and looking upwards, saying or thinking it smells like rain.'

'He says, if nobody speaks of remarkable things, how can they be called remarkable?'

(and) to meet again.

and to meet
through rose tinted glass
throwing emotions into blur edged vision.

and to meet
in the verses of a song
just to sing one last chorus.

and to meet
to touch fingertips
and wonder why we're really here.

and to meet
to see the shape of your smile
and lose ourselves in synesthetic joy.

and to meet
to exchange dreams
and make promises of cameos.

and to meet
when the sea touches the clouds
and the spray and the drizzle kiss each other.

and to meet
to feel alive again
and leave the world in monochrome standstill.

near or far
night or day
here we are
just to say
this last verse of summer sky,
sitting and watching the embers fly.


n.b. this is kind of the the continuation of To meet again, which i wrote while in pune the last time. met a few people this time whom i don't know when i'l me meeting next. months, possibly years. this poem is stunted compared to the earlier one, and i dont like it half as much. still... mata ashite.

Interlude (Leave all the days behind)

as always, booze somehow prevents me from sleeping very long. i was up at 830, and out at 9. pranjal was returning to his room and he dropped me off at the Corporation. i took a bus from there, which thankfully did not take long. i was at kondhwa by 11. tired as i was, i lazed around for a couple of hours, and then had lunch and took a long awaited afternoon nap which lasted for almost three hours. manyu came down at 6-ish. we chatted for quite a while about how our lives were going. a while later we went down to meet shiv at his place. it was a fun meeting, as usual, involving a lo of banter between the three of us. amit came down around 8, and we had 5 minutes where manyu and shiv did a good job of switching roles and confusing amit. it was a fun thing to do. anyway, turned out later that amit and manyu had a lot more common friends than any one of us might have guessed. we spent almost an hour chatting. around 9 we went out and up to corinthians in shiv's car, where we found ourselves a nice cost round table (with 4 chairs) and sat and talked people, places, tv shows, music and the standard types of bleh stuff that guys discuss. it was a lovely evening. we came down at almost 10. amit left with his bike, while manyu joined us for dinner. there was a nice hour then and just after when manyu, my aunt, gunja and me were sitting and chatting about school... after they went off to sleep manyu and i were discussing music and watching videos right till 3 in the morning. i was awake for an hour after he left, browsing around the internet....

Interlude (last summer)

a day like no other usually starts pretty similar to a day like any other. Not that i'm saying this day was anything out of the ordinary, but only if you put it into context, comparing it with the days preceding it and the day i look forward to. I managed to sleep till 9 in the morning. lazed around most of the morning. headed to daniel's place around 1130...was there for almost three hours, watching anime and doing timepass. headed for fc road to meet sayali just after 3. i had gone to this ice cream parlour last time which had opened in place of CCB called orchid fresh. went there again and both of us gorged ourselves on ice cream. it was nice meeting her like this after so long and talking for hours. we were there till almost 5, after which she took me to this shop called Voice of Paper, tucked niftily away beside the Oakwood hotel on Bhandarkar road. the place was absolutely awesome. only in Pondy have i seed this variety of paper goods, and the prices were really reasonable too. we looked around for quite a while and i bought 2 photo frames and she one. anyway, i called sagnik after that who was in our old room. went there, picked him up and came back again to that shop to take care of my residual cravings. i bought two more frames, this time A4 sized.
we took an auto from there and headed back to subhro's flat, stopping to stuff ourselves on Dabeli on the way. i was there only then onwards. subhro returned after a half day from work just after midnight, and we had the second round of my birthday treat, complete with RS, tandoori chicken and snacks. we were at it from say 1230 for almost three hours. we finally slept off way past 4 in the morning....

Interlude (waiting for the world to change)

Headed out in the morning. Went to abc to buy dvd flaps, and then to venus to buy a screen guard for my cell and for a lovely, lovely pair of vacuum earphones. Then went to vedant's place and spent a relaxing couple of hours trading stuff and discussing anime, music, movies, games, books and this and that. When it left it was raining and was windy too. More like darjeeling weather, actually. Came back, took a li'l nap, and went to daniel's place for dinner. Was there for almost three hours . His mom cooks the most awesome biriyani. I always target it when i come to pune. This time she outdid herself, absolutely. Anyway, he dropped me off around 11. Was up till 3 watching anime after that...

Interlude (on a day like today)

It was my birthday yesterday. Which means that even though i'd gone to sleep at almost half past three, poor old me was taking calls from 630 in the morning. Anyway, its something i've gotten used to. The taking calls, replying to messages and to people wishing me on facebook went on all day, all evening, right till 1145 in the night i think, when puja called. Anyway, i didn't do much in the morning. Lazed around, mostly, watching anime and taking calls. This went on till afternoon, when 1. I had lunch 2. The power went, and 3. Kapil called and told me to come over. I was at his place from 130, i think. We watched anime and sitcoms and talked shop and discussed stuff till amit came by around 430. Then it was the three of us till we went and escorted daniel, and shanky came by at half past seven. The evening had the easy familiarity of friends used to the company of each other. Vedant was the last addition, and was a bit late in joining us. It was brilliant fun all the time. Reading manga, watching funny stuff on the net, discussing absolutely random stuff. Anyway, after some deliberation, we ordered our dinner, which was delivered within half an hour and consisted of chicken, chicken, everywhere. We greedily dug in while watching top gear, and achmed the terrorist. The fun continued once we had finished off our dinners, and it was only after 11 that the party broke. Vedant headed home and the rest of us headed for ice cream. Dan left right from there, and the rest of us were there, chatting for a while till we returned to kapil's place a couple of mins before midnight. We all wished shanky once the clock struck, and then the two of us headed out, he dropping me off before heading back himself. I got back a quarter of an hour past midnight, spent an hour with the spoils of the day (anime, movies and sitcoms) and was asleep, tired and happy, sometime after 1.
So sum it all up, a brilliant, brilliant day with my brilliant, brilliant friends...

Interlude (across the universe)

Overslept on the bus. Had to take an auto back to my old room as a result. Pranjal wasn't in. Packed in all my old cassettes. 70+ of them. Also an old album which i'd thought to be missing. Headed to subhro's flat from there. Nice place he's got. Freshened up and then left to meet sheetal. Got dragged all the way to kp burger king. Ordered more than i could eat. Even though i was famished. We chatted about this and that. The pointless chats which take up oh so long and leave you with a surprisingly full feeling inside. Heh. We left just after nine. Dunno when i'l be seeing her next. But she remains one of my favourite people. Headed back to my room where i was picked up by mona da. Returned to subhro's flat around 10. Cooked chicken for dinner, and then had it while watching The Rock and attending calls and replying to texts. Watched favourite bits of gto after that. I'l be sleeping off now, because i'l have to be attending calls from 6 in the morning, i think. Subhro shall continue with gto. Looking forward to tomorrow. Hoping everything goes smoothly and according to plan...

Interlude (half the world away)

The problem with two days, one night train journeys as opposed to two nights and one day is that whereas you can get through the latter with the help of one reasonably thick book, you need atleast two books for the former. As a consequence, i've already finished off two of the three books that i had, and even though i left then c/o lando and borrowed trainspotting instead, they might not be enough for the rest of the trip.
But for all the cons of my train being half a day late, i got to see some breathtaking scenery, the sort of landscape that i rarely associate with this state. Mile after mile of fields and meadows and hills, green, utter green, brooks and streams and rapids running wherever their imagination takes them. Hills crowned by clouds and fog, and the train pushed past curtains of rain lashing out at everything, biting my skin whenever it could reach me. Awe inspiring. Once i reached lando's place, i relaxed and waited for him to return. He's put on a bit of weight. We drank beers and listened to oasis. Then we went out to eat and drank more and then called up auto and bitan. I got pretty drunk. Haven't been this drunk in ages.
As a consequence, i slept off by midnight and was up at 5, after which i couldn't sleep at all. Lazed around all morning, watching anime, listening to music and making calls. Headed out at noon, and here i am now, relaxing in a bus heading for pune and secretly hoping it rains on the way and i get to see this place the way i like it best...

The wrong world

At precisely eight fifteen tonight

the world shall start to go wrong,

and all the dreams that we might have shared,

shall be stained by each sad song.

But you could hide in my secret poem,

skip across the words that rhyme,

find in you another you,

who'll finally get it right this time.

The last walk that we took

the day it was raining upside down,

the sky might still have been up above

but the clouds they were on the ground.

Then the day that i stood

atop the city's highest rise,

but in vain i tried and tried and tried,

on tiptoes to touch the skies.

For there was a moon shaped hole in the night,

but the moon shone through from a puddle;

i touched the edge, sent ripples across,

and the moonlight flickered ever so subtle.

This is a world where things are wrong

or right if we call it so;

for its you and i and in our heads

who else will ever know?

shrapnel

and i can see how
the shrapnel of our emotions
changes the world around us.

and bits get damaged
as reality caves in at times
to the delusions we choose.

we filter out the
synesthetic sounds of dreams
and are left with mere b/w.

we become robots
to music that is not music
which has kept us spellbound.

the colours within
isolated from the ones without
live on in enforced loneliness.

the voices fadeaway
and the lyrics get lost in a haze
and you're suddenly so far away...


n.b. i'm not sad. i'm not depressed....as such. dunno why i wrote this all of a sudden. maybe because its raining outside...and there was always someone who was like the rain in my life...

James Blunt on Topgear

James Blunt as the guest in Topgear. 2nd December 07. Absolutely hilarious.

kites and thunderstorms

we can see familiar faces
through the smile shaped holes in our dreams,
flitting in and out of sleep,
surrounded by whispered voices and moonbeams.

the skies indulge us in our little flights of fancy
like kites against cotton candy clouds;
soaring high above the din of chemical emotions,
singing its own songs bereft of doubt.

stranger faces in the neon glow
tread pavements of a million brilliant hues
as songs leak onto the pavement
from haunts still churning out 12-bar blues.

indifferent stories pass each other by on the streets,
exchange pleasantries or avoid each other,
each being a kaleidoscope of infinite possibilities;
bur rarely does anyone seem to bother.

silent waters lap softly by the feet
of friends together on a chilly winter evening,
watching the city's bridges shine,
while softly of forgotten carnivals they sing.

the city stands quietly by a corner, silently watching
its people colour their canvases.
each dab changes the city and us; yet never do we notice;
we just paint away our days.....


n.b. a lot of things went into these few lines. sankar's chowringhee, old bengali films, satyajit ray, anjan dutta, and some very personal experiences. we may love our city; some of us may even hate it. but it's impossible to remain indifferent to it, isn't it?

runaway world

do you remember the last time
that you dreamt a dream which was just a dream
and not a goal you had to accomplish?
when feelings could be spoken aloud
without having them dissected and looked into
for hidden meanings? when your biggest worry in life
was the homework you forgot to do?
there's a world lost inside us, hidden away from
prying eyes. ours included. we make ourselves forget
so that we may become adults, say the proper things
and learn to nod our heads knowingly on cue.
while we keep forgetting to smile with our eyes.
we surround ourselves with emotional tripwires,
yet forget to laugh just because it feels right to;
try to lead our lives like drawn out guitar solos,
technically perfect yet lacking, and forget that
three chords are enough to write a beautiful song.
and we replace letters with texts, smiles with smileys,
walking together with hanging out...

need our lives always strive to be a page turner?
books with a comfortable pace are nice too, i daresay.
like our favourite fairytale. or a song with a lilt.
or like the accidental tunes that we whistle.
its easy to walk on by as life keeps happening,
next time you're in a hurry, try slowing down
for a change...and in the fleeting moments of dusk,
maybe, just maybe, you'll come to realise
that life can be so much more than a mad rush
towards the finish line....
it could be a half smile, or a lingering glance.
or raindrops against your skin...

Back to Pune [Day 7 - Pune/Mumbai]

~12th Mar~
Didn't get to sleep much at night. was up at 630 with a headache and residual sleep. Nevertheless, considering the headaches i am getting used to, this was nothing. the downloads i had put on last night were well underway, and pranjal was hgetting ready for office. i went out and got a cuppa from Shubham. it was overcast and slightly chiily too; more like august than march. headed into college and roamed about for the better part of the next hour in the place which still has three years worth of memories safely tucked away in corners. got back to my room around 730 and lazed around for the next couple of hours. dumped and arranged stuff on my HDD, watched naruto and avatar, burnt deepti's DVD, made a couple of calls. Spoke to sheetal. she'd just gotten off a night shift and sounded adorably sleepy. seems her mom was in town, and she wouldn't be free in the evening. pity, since i WAS rather looking forward to seeing her again. oh well, i suppose i'l catch up later. prateek came by around 11. we chatted and lazed around in general. the naruto konoha gakuen den was a hit with him as well, as it had been with kapil and shanky the previous evening. deepti came down to fc road just after noon. prateek came down with me to meet her. she was waiting in the car, right by college. she had to take a looong detour to get a parking space which was barely 100m away from where her car originally was. heh. while taking my evening stroll yesterday i had chanced across an ice cream/kulfi parlour right next to where CCB used to be. i took deeps and prateek there. the place was nice and comfy and had an ambiance similar to CCB. prateek, whose normal state of being was reserved, seemed to have no such issues with deepti. her disarming ways had brought out the funny and talkative side of my best friend. the three of us talked and talked and talked. on bleach, avatar, our respective fields of study...and, of course, the shit i had gotten myself into. people still seemed to disbelieve me over it, and though both of them knew i'd never lie to them, deeps said she still half expected to start laughing any moment and tell her its all a big joke. well, i suppose that during the course of the ensuing conversation, she got used to it being part of reality. we were at orchid fresh for over an hour...me and two of my bestest friends, chatting away over chocolate...what more can a person want from life? time just flew by. finally, reluctantly, we had to break up. prateek took an auto back to college. deepti left after making me promise that i won't fuck up any more. it was 2 by then, and i headed back to the room to finish packing. subhro and kundu returned shortly before 3, and kundu said he'll be dropping me off to the station. it started dripping as we left, and started pouring within moments of me entering the station. the weather kind of reflected how i felt inside, i guess....
slept during most of the journey. got off at thane and took a local heading towards bhupen's place. he was supposed to be out till late. anyway, i was insanely tired and was asleep by 9. woke up at 11 for dinner. bhupen returned shortly afterward. apparently, he had downed 16 cans of fosters, a tequila and a whiskey. he looked rather composed, given all that. he even asked me, 'am i making sense?'; and was very happy when i told him he was. he was. he WAS talking a bit more than usual and was slightly disoriented, but otherwise OK. we discussed my results (his reactions and views on the matter were the most interesting by far, but i suppose alcohol had a part to play in that). we talked music as he played songs off his ipod, his crappy job, the arse of a boss that he has, life, books, and his upcoming holiday. both of us had slept off by 1230.

didn't sleep very well. was up at 430 and out by 5. sitting at dadar station and writing this, waiting for my train to arrive. these ten days have been like a slender bend, one that you rarely notice initially, but further down the line, you tend to look back and realise how much this bend has influenced where you've ended up and where you're headed. i've been screwing up royally for almost 2 years now. the person writing these lines is not the person who left pune in 08, unfortunately. though i did get ot see flashes of him over the last few days. he walked on marine drive, went for lunch the following morning, walked the entire length of fc road, played guitar all night, hung around at aundh, played cs after ages, had ice cream.....the glimpses were enough to make me realise where i'd been going wrong all this while. i refuse to fuck up any more. and heaven help whoever stands in my way.

i just realised that pune had managed to work its charms on me. so, surprisingly, has mumbai. never expected this to happen. maybe its got something to do with the fact that kol has become more of four empty walls now, its colour gone. my past in this city will always remain my haven, my wonderwall, but in present the city has nothing but shattered memories for me. till i can lay these ghosts to rest, i need to get out. and mumbai/pune happens to be filled with some of my favourite people now. kol will always remain home, but pune has given me so much without making any fuss over it, without asking for anything in return. this is something i've come to realise only in the last few days. i'm even prepared to give mumbai a chance...for if sheetal and archan da say there's something to this city, there must be...
i dunno when i'l be back. dunno how many people would wait till i do. but i DO intend to return....and maybe, just maybe, i will be bit closer to calling it home as well...

Back to Pune [Day 6 - Pune]

slept for maybe 5 hours at night. was up and about by 930. spent the whole morning in the usual routine of this place. ate, lazed around, read poirot and burned dvds for manyu and deepti. went out in between and returned nikhil's guitar. deepti and devi came by after lunch. i've never had a chance to interact with devi before. it was a fun one hour. i was surprised to find out that devi watched bleach. both sisters were in their element, and time just flew by and suddenly it was 330 and they had to leave. i left soon after. got off the bus a couple of stops earlier and walked the lingth of FC road and JM road, just for the heck of it...it felt nostalgic passing by the familiar shops....
kapil came later in the evening, and then shanky and amit.....we watched naruto (YESSS!!) and did timepass in general. after shanky left (he had all night classes at frameboxx) amit and i decided to go aundh side. on the way we decided to watch a movie at night and stopped by e-square, but nothing was available. kapil trusted me with another stint on his scooty, and we reached his home way past 9....stayed there quite a while, copying stuff...i managed to land blackadder and fringe. blackadder is hugh laurie AND rowan atkinson. saw a bit of it later. its absolutely hilarious. we left his place after 1030 and headed to daniel's....poor guy has been busy with an obscene amount of workload, but he came down and we chatted outside his home for for almost half an hour. the topics mainly veered around anime and a couple of movies. bleach and kenichi were hot favourites. it was past 11 when we started from there. kapil went back home and amit dropped me off to my room. kundu got me dinner (everything was long closed by then). chatted with subhro and kundu awhile. kundu got a bit senti...they left after 1230...was feeling dead by then. throat was in pretty bad shape since i was out that long...slept off almost immediately.

to meet again

to meet again
under sunnier skies
and the wind billowing through our clothes.

to meet again
in a crowd of strangers
two strangers, yet strangers no more.

to meet again
under a yellow umbrella
even as all we feel comes pouring down.

to meet again
on some seashore, again,
and hear our voices echoed in the waves.

to meet again
beneath the tree around the bend
amidst rustling leaves and light and shade.

to meet again
beneath morpheus's veil
and in blissful ignorance walk together.

to meet again
when things make sense no more
and laugh all our fears away into the night.

you, whom i've
never known
never seen
yet felt
somewhere deep within.
tell me, honestly...
at what speed must i live,
to be able to see you again?

Back to Pune [Day 5 - Pune]

~10th Mar~
This was a day of words. Woke up rather early by normal standards, and since my throat was better than the last couple of days, indulged myself by staying in bed for almost an hour, drifting in and out of wakefulness. even then, was out by 930. met deepti and a couple of her friends at the law college road ccd. they had just been gotten off class. lazed around and chatted over insignificant stuff....identity crises, various teashops and cafes and dhabas all over the country, how ccd and barista are capitalist by nature, music we all prefer, how women should not be trusted with self propelling vehicles. anyway, that all done, we decided to push towards kondhwa. returned to my room, packed and left with deepti. stopped for coffee in between...reached around 130...
my aunt's place is one of my favourite places on earth. i get good food, good company, am pampered quite a bit, and there are so many books, and the weather is usually lovely too...its tooo good. i spent the afternoon idling around, raeding agatha christie and listening to music. then went over to nikhil's place and got his guitar. guy plays really, really well. not only is his technique on a totally different level, his playing has a beautiful feel about it which is still lacking in me. met up with shiv. we(he) talked and talked and talked. about his company, his college, his life, manyu and how he needs to lose weight, me and how i need to bulk up et al. headed back for dinner...
played the guitar post dinner. it had been a while, but it felt really nice. manyu came by after midnight. we were up talking through the night. we listened to some music on the comp, but most of the time we spent in the balcony, talking about insignificant matters and equally significant ones....strumming once in a while...discussing life, love, expectations, plans...all that we rarely talk about...he left almost at 4. slept off within 10 minutes of him leaving.
this was a talkative day. heh.

Back to Pune [Day 3 - Pune]

~8th Mar~
Woke up to find Pranjal diligently studying for his exam. throat still neck deep in shit (no pun/allegory intended). Got a call from Deepti...ran off to meet her at ILS during the little time she had between classes. Walked back the distance till my room...via bhandarkar road, and then took the shortcut beside hdfc and into my college from the back entrance. college was more or late empty then, though it was 9 in the morning...exam season is on its way, so all i saw were students studying all around. took a peek inside my department, but found it devoid of life. got back to my room, and started making dinner plans. lazed around the whole morning in the room only. copied dvds, chatted with people online, finalised plans, and then took a li'l nap, since i was still slightly hung over from the last night. woke up at 1230 as Pranjal left for his exam and headed for lunch and then to amit's house. did timepass there and then prateek came over and joined us. i convinced him that it was a good idea to come to dinner with us and then stay over at amit's and return to college the next morning. didn't take much effort. prateek and i left after a while coz amit had some work. we strolled back to our room, then went to buy dvds (for him) and headed back to amit's place after kapil called and said he was on his way. we all played doom3d by turns. amit had turned hyper again, like last time...bleh. we headed for baner around 8. dan joined us outside sarjaa, where we were planning to have dinner. spent quite a while in there...it was the first time prateek had been part of a pune anime meet proper (last time, that's 2008, he'd joined us for dark knight at e-square). he was in his spirits that evening. we talked about most things geek...anime, manga, hentai, games over all consoles, websites, food, and how kapil had put on weight leaving me the thinnest in the group...hehe.
post a sumptuous dinner, we headed out to look for an ice-cream shop(which was closed), but thankfully found another where we all got ourselves cornettos. since prateek and i were down with rebellious throats, we decided to share a single cone. dan headed back towards home...amit asked kapil to ride his bike in his stead, since he wasn't feeling upto it. which put me in charge of commandeering kapil's scooty, much to the apprehension of all and sundry present there (including daniel). but i looked like the epitome of confidence (i haven't ridden a self propelling two wheeler since i left pune in 2008). i just told kapil 'bhaga mat...dont want the speed to get to my head, then i'l start rideing like a maniac'. he gladly obliged. the best moment came when i sided beside his bike, both of us riding at around 60kph, and asked...'kapil, left brake peechhe ke tyre ke liye hi hai na?'. their reactions were...interesting, to say the least. specially prateek's, who was visibly shaken. anyway, we made it back to amit's without incident. vibhav called, and we all took turns speaking with him...prateek stayed back at amit's place (they apparently stayed up till 2 talking, talking, talking, or so they claim). kapil headed home and i back to my room....stayed up past 1, though i was really tired. was copying dvds....went to sleep with my usual bedmate, my throatache...

Back to Pune [Day 2 - Mumbai/Pune]

~7th Mar~
woke up with a sore throat, a slight headache and a long day ahead of me. bhupen and i left together at 9. he went to office, me to meet nitesh. rahul had warned me that central line trains would be irregular...i got to dadar and walked to nitesh's room. turns out he returned from office around 9 the previous night, and had been drinking since then with his roommates. he hadn't slept and looked more unkempt than usual. his flat was a nightmare. clothes, dirty plates, booze bottles and glasses strewn around everywhere. the exact opposite of where i had stayed the last day. we chatted a while and then left for phoenix mall at parel. while sitting there i realised that i hadn't been able to speak to vandy in a month and i had no clue as to where exactly the reception was. i kept on making call after call, trying to trace her, but to no avail. anyway, archan da came by after a while and nitesh had to leave. we went and had lunch and then spent time roaming around phoenix, discussing kolkata and mumbai, mostly, and who was up to what. it was strange to see someone like archan da, who had spent 5 years in pune, speak so affectionately about mumbai. but i guess I'd have been slightly weirded out if he hadn't. by this time I'd almost decided that i would be starting late for pune, since I'd most probably not make it to the reception. just for the sake of it, i tried vandy's number one last time, and she answered....took directions from her and headed back to dadar. took the train to kanjurmarg, picked up my stuff, and then found out that trains were not running towards vashi. so i headed to thane, and caught a bus to pune.
reached pune around 8....headed straight to my room, changed, and took an auto to the reception hall...it was way inside khadki..real pain in the arse, but worth the effort....got back around 11....pranjal called and told me to come to barcode. found subhro, kundu, shautam, pranjal, and another colleague happily boozing away. having nothing better to do, i joined in with demolishing the RS they were having. we finally left at midnight and returned to our room...i was as usual dead tired by then. we still stayed up for a while more. pranjal had drank quite a bit, and he had his last semester exam the next day. duh. we sent him off to sleep, and subhro and i were up chatting till 1, i think....it had been a long, long, long and hectic day. spread over two cities and a load of acquaintances from the various bends of my life. the trip seems to be going as planned. hope it stays that way....

Back to Pune [Day1 - Mumbai]

~6th March~
the only bit of unwanted luggage that I'm carrying on this trip, it seems, is a persistent throat ache and a hacking cough, and it doesn't seem interested in forsaking my company anytime soon. pity. i reached mumbai early morning. got off at dadar, successfully negotiated the station which has confounded me in the past and headed for kanjurmarg, where bhupen stays. reached around 630, i suppose. within a few hours and a couple of phone calls later, i realised that most of the people i wanted to meet were busy till evening. as a last resort i called rahul....he was at the doc's but he told me to come down to nahur. having nothing better to do all day except read, i went along with rahul (who has a lot more white strands on his head than before...guess marriage can do that to a person) to their new home under construction at belapur...spent a couple of hours there chatting with him, after which he dropped me off at vashi. called up sheetal from there, who'd just returned from her shift. she told me to let her know a while before i reached BT. i got on the train, put on an alarm and happily dozed off, all the time under the impression that the train will definitely pass dadar, and that would be when i call her and wake her up. well, fresh from my nap, i still found station after station bearing unfamiliar names. after a while, becoming almost sure something was wrong i had gotten on to the wrong train, i went near the gate to check the route map. imagine my surprise to find that the vashi-BT line is completely different (as in no dadar), and i was roughly three minutes away from BT. i called sheetal up. told her that i'd made a calculation mistake and was at BT already. she said she'll take 'some time' to get ready, and told me to come to colaba causeway in 20mins. knowing her for the better part of 3 years now, i was well aware that punctuality was not one of her stronger suites. so i found myself with quite a bit of time to kill. i was feeling rather thirsty by then. i went up to one of the railway snack stall at the station and ordered a lassi (i had had a throat ache all that time), and downed it in 30 seconds flat. still thirsty, i ordered a chocolate milkshake. downed it and realised i was STILL insatiably thirsty. had ANOTHER milkshake. felt slightly better after that, but my throat had started acting up again. anyway, i headed out of the station and took a taxi to the causeway. found out on the way that she had already reached, which made me really happy...it'd be the first time she was early. heh. i got off at the causeway, and then spent the next ten minutes trying to locate each other. finally did, and then we headed off to barista. sheetal had grown thin....but she said that she still weighed the same...so unless she'd grown more muscular over the last year and a half, it wasn't really possible. she had a point, but then again, i still maintain that she's grown thinner since i last saw her. not that it made her any less stunning, though. anyway, i convinced her she owed me two treats, one for getting a job and another as payment for all that much anime i was giving her, and that she was lucky i was prepared to club those two treats into one. she seemed convinced, but barely. was very happy to find out that her viao was NOT pink (it was silver), but the bag was red and gold (officially, though it seemed more like deep pink and yellow to my eyes). over a variety of goodies (tea, coffee, sandwiches, and...chocolates, obviously) we caught up on books, music, anime, work and life in general. sheetal being the most sparkling person I've ever known, time just whizzed by. but THEN...she was unable to finish her chocolate, much to my glee. said she felt sick with too much of it. i told her a few more gory chocolate stories till she was prepared to forfeit and let me finish off the rest. it was funny...she is one of the three chocolate goddesses in my life (chocolate goddess- one who either loves chocolate, or treats me regularly to it, or both), and she herself had mentally OD'ed on it. anyway, that episode done, we headed towards marine drive. mumbai by now had already started growing on me. the cool evening breeze and the lights in the horizon made me like this city a bit more. we sat there and talked and talked and talked about almost anything and everything we had in common and some that we probably didn't. and then it was time for her to go...i headed back to the station and back to kanjur, having spent the day with two people i barely got a chance to know but two people I'm really fond of anyway. rahul and sheetal...I'd met the former the last time in may 08, and the latter in july 08...but it seemed like almost no time had passed since then and now. it didn't take any effort to pick off where our last conversations had ended. two entirely different people who have next to nothing in common with each other. but both are equally strange in their own ways, infinitely admirable, sparkling with life every single second...and both people i wished i knew a bit better. it had turned out to be a lovely, lovely day.
was really tired when i got back to bhupen's. took a bath, went out and got some food. he took a beer while we waited, and i foolishly took a peg of vodka. not a very good idea when one is as tired as i was. was on the verge of dozing off on the street as we headed back to his room. anyway, had dinner, chatted with him a bit more...and when things finally started getting spirally around me, faded away into the blissful oblivion of sleep...

carousel

was going through my old mails...the days when forwards flooded my inbox.... saw something random there which suddenly made a lot of sense. 'its the friends you can call at 4AM who matter.' the 24x7 lives we lead now has made that statement slightly redundant nowadays, but it still strikes a chord. so.

i keep getting a feeling that somewhere, somehow, time is running out...and there's always so much left unsaid. so many moments, so many shared memories. photo freeze moments, and some tear jerkers too. moments lost in the untidy cupboards of our minds...in some drawer we rarely open. so.

like the time a friend blasted me for not being able to get over a girl. and the time we played on opposite teams, baying for blood, but were best mates the moment the final whistle rung. like the time i would call them up for no reason in particular during exams. the official reason would be doubt clearing, but actually, all i needed was the reassurance that i fight not alone. like walking back in the rain. like filling up slambooks and signing t-shirts. like the flush of joy to see a long lost friend suddenly on facebook. like all those times we posed for the same cameras. like all the times we bitched and cribbed and yet enjoyed every moment of it. like bunked tuitions. and roaming around park street.likes cassettes lent out and borrowed. like the most pointless of conversations. like the centershocks we tried our best to make our teachers take. like our favourite classes. and our least favourite ones. like so many other bits which you can see best at the corner of your eyes. so.

flux is the only constant we have left. people change. circumstances change. and the world around us changes too. but those promises, those words, those smiles and hugs and shared memories...they can never change. such is the beauty of life. so.

these lines hold nothing i've not said before. just that so many things have been playing in my head recently. the city i love so much has suddenly become four empty walls, the colour my friends gave it with their presence gone without them. there's an awful lot of space, but i can hardly breathe.things not making much sense all of a sudden. maybe writing this will make winter fade away slowly and not take me along. so.

will spring ever come, i wonder....

coda (?)

i'l always be a question looking for an answer...actually its the other way round. i'm more of answers, looking for the right questions to define me. i'm a mix of emotions most of the time, a medley of resonating notes at the best of times and a mess at the worst. more often than not, this particular symphony has too many wrong notes. ones which shouldn't be there...but i do believe that without those wrong notes, it would probably lose a large bit of its individuality. but even with all the dissonant bits of my life, there are refrains and reprises and interludes which come by when i'm least expecting them to, and make sense in some strange and inexplicable way and leave me with wafts of a spring breeze and those floaty things you see in front of your eyes when you look towards the sun and shut your eyes really tight but which disappear right away if you look AT them; you have to look away for them to reappear. it makes me really nostalgic at times, though i can't figure out the source of this nostalgia. strange.

life is a joke. always. sometimes we get to laugh along, sometimes the joke's on us and it isn't all that funny. i am the sort of fool who laughs along even when the joke's on me, and it has been that way for a very long time. because when everything around us goes topsy-turvy, laughing is one of the few things that still make sense. so.

its suddenly really dark, and the soft breeze which touches me from time to time is probably just a figment of my imagination. every single day it gets a bit harder to see through this all permeating mist around me.

might be taking a break from life as i've known it, as i've made it out to be for me for a while. a hiatus has been on the cards for quite sometime now, and all i need to figure out during the course of the coming week is the magnitude and the duration of it, the terms and conditions and the small print. i seemed to have hit another roadblock, and till i can get past/over/through it, i think its better to slow down and untie these knots one by one instead of wildly flailing my arms and ending up in a more twisted situation than i am right now. and i, of course, also need to decide on a P.O.A should this roadblock become impassable. its gonna be oh-so-complicated from here onwards.

i can barely see beyond tonight. and definitely can't see beyond this week. i do know something for certain, though. by the time the week is by, i would know whether i've been unknowingly writing on the last page of this diary, or whether there are more blank pages after this. its unwelcome information either way, but is necessary, nevertheless.

waiting with bated breath and an unhealthy cocktail of fatalism/resignation to see how this plays out...

Lost, found and still looking for part II

as i was saying, in no particular order of preference, i want -
~ a dog
~ a fender squier
~ a dell studio
~ to never have to window shop for books.
~ be a chocolate magnate.
~ a mont-blanc ink pen.
~ to not flunk my exams or get a KT (that should actually have been at the top).
~ chocolates.
~ to be able to sleep late into mornings.
~ to be better at cricket.
~ to be a kid and have tetuler achaar while walking home from school.
~ the complete works of J.R.R Tolkien.
~ to have enough cash to be able to buy F1 (no, i'm NOT talking about racing. those who are supposed to know what i'm alluding to, will know right away).
~ clothes to dry sooner during monsoons.
~ to find time to go swimming on summer mornings.
~ more chocolates.
~ to chat up some random pretty girl, just for the heck of it.
~ to walk along the beach at Pondy and feel the spray against my face.

this list is a bit more...mainstream, shall we say? heh.

lost, found and still looking for...

most people have a list of what they want from life. some are conscious of the fact, some are not. when i tried to come up with mine, it turned out kind of funny...heh heh heh...judge for yourselves.

i want(in no specific order)-
1. manageable hair.
2. to not ruin my ears irrespective of how much music i listen to.
3. more good books at the library.
4. a tattoo.
5. an irish accent.
6. to be able to rhyme sentences with less difficulty.
7. to keep my weight below 70kg.
8. to grow slightly taller (an inch or so should do).
9. to be able to attempt a question paper...all of it.
10.to not make too many grammatical mistakes.
11.to ride inside Bumblebee.
12.to believe in something that cannot be explained.
13.to sing better.
14.a job.
15.a swanky sports car, preferably a porsche 911 turbo.
16.to be able to play the violin.
17.to attend my favourite bands' gigs.
18.more kurtas.
19.a pair of blackberry trousers.
20.to hold hands with my imaginary friend.
21.to be a kid in school once more.
22.to take long walks in the rain without catching a cold.
23.fewer wars. (please?)
24.to spend more time with the people who mean the most to me.
25.to get locked up inside BCL one night.
26.to visit ireland, japan and germany (in that order of preference).
27.to not go bald later in life, preferably.
28.to be able to say meaningful things without sounding cliched.
29.to be in a kickass band, someday.
30.to sleep.

more would be coming as i think up of them...

~and winter takes leave.

winter is an odd season in many of ways.... its silent. summer, monsoon, spring, autumn... they're boisterous. winter comes slowly. you hold autumn's hand... and then suddenly its not autumn any more... its winter. autumn is never a season proper out here anyway; though spring is, or at least was till a couple of years ago... anyway, autumn is just a fleeting touch before the the biting wind drives home the point. and then you learn to live with winter all over again, with its mood swings, its beauty and its cruelty....

...and then you wake up one morning and see the sun shining a bit brighter than usual. and the wind bites a little less. the breeze against your face feels nice. and you can hold that elusive patch of sunlight between your fingers once more. slowly, unknowingly, when you were least expecting it, right at that moment when you were looking in the other direction, winter walked away.

i've been noticing winter leave every year for quite sometime now. learnt not to look away this time of the year. always remembered that last touch as winter's hands let go of mine. i never get along well with winter. its the season i like the least. but somehow right before i start rejoicing at the coming of spring, for one tiny moment before winter lets go...when i feel our fingers brush for one last time, i feel an indescribable melancholy inside...which is strange, since no other season makes me feel this way.

wish there would be somebody to explain exactly what this feeling is...

but i know this one thing. if i ever walk away... this is how it'll be. when nobody's expecting it. when everybody is busy looking away. no goodbye is sometimes the best goodbye.

nostalgic bits of randomness

Have you ever stopped to stare at roadside flowers? run around on dewy grass on early spring mornings? enjoyed the musty smell of frayed pages of old books? smiled back at strangers? Ever felt like walking back home in the rain? stopped whatever you were doing to listen to your favourite song on the radio? become teary eyed during mushy scenes in movies? Ever called up long lost friends for no apparent reason? wanted to believe in something that cannot be explained? ever loved? been loved? ever lain spread eagled on the terrace, counting the wishes amidst the phosphorescent sea of a million stars overhead, wondering whether yours was somewhere among those waves too?

see,i told you you know me..