Friday, April 23, 2010

Deja vu

Lets go out
For a cup of tea
Lets talk it over
You and me

What went wrong
What went right
Why this estrangement
Without a fight

Two spoons of sugar
A dash of lime
Hot sweet tea
Anywhere anytime

I'll listen to you
While I sip my tea
And rationalize every fear
Whatever they may be

I'll sort your scrambled thoughts
Just listen to me
Do away with confusion and once again
Go walk beneath the woodapple tree

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Realization

All that is good in me
Belongs to you
All that is bad in you
Belongs to me
Oh can't you see
The problem lies with me

It lived it thrived
Because of you
It rots it dies
Because of me
Oh can't you see
The problem lies with me

Love, care, patience
Offered by you
Grief, hatred, disappointment
Offered by me
Oh can't you see
The problem lies with me

You tie I break
You give I take
You try I don't
I can but won't
Oh can't you see
The problem lies with me

But then its a reflection
Of me in you
And you in me
Jinxed from the start
Perhaps its destiny
Oh why can't you see
It was never meant to be

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

The window

I looked up and saw the window. It was thrown open as usual. Curtains fluttering in the wind. Blue flickering lights dancing in the night. Maybe she's watching television...but..then why the silence? Every other house which has the television switched on, also throws out accompanying noises...blaring music, film dialogues, news, blah blah blah. From her window...I hear only a deafening silence which filters out into the night and envelops me in a painful embrace.

Mesmerized I stare at the window and watch the blue lights. I suspect she keeps the television on only to keep her company - a physical object filling a deep void. She does not need the sounds of the outside world as they would only cut into her solitude. Perhaps it is his voice that she yearns to hear.

He does his duty. Visits her every evening in his big, black car. Gives her a glimpse of a life she desires but can never have. He stays for a few hours each day except on weekends. Maybe the weekends are reserved for his 'family' - maybe a wife and a child or two? She does not have a right over the weekends just like she cannot have his heart - not even for a night. But then she has the television!

It is strange that I notice her open window only at night. Maybe its the curtains or maybe its the blue flickering light or maybe her world comes alive only in the darkness. But we connect each night, she and I. The window inviting me into her world and yet keeping me out.

I hope to see her someday, standing at her window, looking down at me from the shadows. But till then I will stand beneath her window each night, in the darkness and wait for permission to enter her world. Till then, the open window will suffice...

Saturday, April 10, 2010

This and that...

Have been meaning to regularly update my blog but laziness gets the better of me :-( Ever since I have come to Calcutta I have been getting these sudden uncontrollable urges to write...just write...about anything and everything that crosses my mind. It feels just like old times...when I used to write something everyday. However right now I do not feel like putting down anything remotely sensible so I will just write for the sake of writing. And I don't really understand why are you reading this unless, like me, you are bored out of your mind and have nothing better to do :-) Ok, here it comes:

Some things I love:
1. Blue - I mean the colour, in all shades. Blue sky, blue jeans, blue shoes (just bought two pairs last week), blue walls, blue blue blue so much so that I am even wearing blue nailpaint! Also, usually I am at my creative best when I am feeling blue :-)

2. Movies - specially watching them at a theatre munching popcorn (and I don't share!). I can also watch films in any language without subtitles only for the experience of watching it on the big screen. I love Shah Rukh Khan (ya ya ok don't roll your eyes at me) and I have watched each and every film he has acted (or overacted) in...some of which I am sure even he didnt bother to watch.

3.Rainy season - Have loved it since school days when we would get 'rainy day holiday' and we could eat our 'tiffin' in the school bus on our way back home. Love the sound of rain beating against the window panes and the sound of thunder and the sudden flashes of lightening when your dark world becomes super bright even if only for a second. Love the smell of wet earth, the puddles on the road and the khichdi and pakoras which any self respecting Bengali mom would rush to cook, the moment she hears the thunderclouds rumbling!

4.Winters - my absolute favourite season! And especially love the Delhi winters even if my nose turns red like Rudolf the reindeer and my fingers freeze over!!! Nothing beats the cozy feeling of being wrapped up in a blanket and holding a steaming cup of coffee in your hands while the temperature keeps dropping and dropping and dropping. In fact, I am convinced some intrinsic internal change happens within me each year between the months of November to February. I have consciously made an effort to note this strange phenomenon for the last couple of years. The four crucial months bring in a sense of rebellion and also a desperate need to break free. Some crucial life changing incidents happened to me during these months. It's like I evolve, step by step, each year during the winters. I have quit most of my jobs during these months and have also undertaken journeys for my soul to places like Haridwar and Rishikesh, again and again. One of my ex-bosses was forced to take me to Allahabad and Benaras to calm me down, when one fine day I just announced 'I quit'. It was during the early days of my career and it was in 'January'.

5.Books - specially fiction and especially if it is a thriller and there is some pathological serial killer on the loose and in the end the detective catches him/her and there is some psychological reason as to why s/he was such a nutcase! Also love reading about the occult/paranormal and am currently engrossed in reading 'Beyond the Occult' by Colin Wilson. I also love the smell of new books.

Other random things I love:

a.Staring at the wall/ceiling, waiting for it to change colour
b.Holding lengthy, meaningful conversations with my dogs/any other dog/infants who have not yet learned to speak
c.Eating ice cream in winters
d.Wearing black in summers
e.Singing in the shower
f.Experimental cooking (only my dad loves me enough and is brave enough to sample and appreciate everything and anything I try out)
g.Shopping at a medicine store
h.Walking from one end of the terrace to the other, all the while looking up at the sky (you should try it out sometime, it is as good as walking blindfolded)
i.Staring outside the window when its pitch dark outside
j.Collecting idols of Ganesha (yes the elephant God) in every shape and size
k.Eating milk powder with rice
l. Wearing purple
m.Talking to myself
n. Smell of petrol
o. Eating chocolate/sweets - usually - middle of the night!
p.Telling my grandma's photograph that I really really love her

Some things I hate:

1.Lizards
2.Any complicated mathematical calculation (2+2 is also a complicated mathematical calculation as far as I am concerned)
3.Stupidity
4.Summers
5.Discussing any stuff related to me with my mom - we seem to have diametrically opposing viewpoints about everything in life. But we get on famously when we are talking about anything/anyone but me :-)

Ok now its nearly 2:30 am and I have this strong urge to eat something sweet. Signing off now...got to go raid the fridge!!!

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Who cares?

Temperature soaring, horns blaring
Its morning on the roads of Kolkata
Two angry men on the road
A verbal fight, heated exchange of abuses
Their cars haphazardly parked
Blocking the traffic
Amidst the sea of angry vehicles and sweaty people
Stuck in a man made traffic jam
An ambulance wails
Someone is fighting for life
Maybe the roads will clear up
Maybe the ambulance will make its way through the maze
Perhaps its only a matter of few extended moments
But will those moments force a choice
Of life or death for someone somewhere
Who knows and more importantly who cares?

Its late at night
People come in fancy cars
Its a posh locality after all
The brightly lit gas station does brisk business as usual
Somewhere in the corner
Drowned in darkness
Sits a beggar, considered insane by the sane world
A gaping wound on his head
Maggots feeding on his brain
Some see him but none really see him
Nobody stops
Maybe the wound will claim his life
His soul is already taken
When and how
Who knows and more importantly who cares?