Standing out in the balcony staring at the moon befogged by the clouds, he lit up a cigarette. His thoughts suddenly became alive as the first puff melted away with the steering wind.
It was that time of the day when he would be at his most thoughtful self; all the procrastinated plans would come up one by one like an advancing queue at a take-out restaurant. The decisions were quick and spontaneous.
He hadn't called back home in while, mom would be really worried. He knew he definitely liked the girl, but he hadn't talked to her for a while now, she hadn't called back too. He knew his new initiative is going to take him a long way; he would definitely make that presentation tomorrow. He is going to start writing his new book too, the ideas are plenty, it's definitely going to be the next bestseller. And the guitar which was bought a month back and disposed off in the corner, he will definitely spend the next few months mastering it, the girls love the rockstar kind. The paunch has also become visible, he would definitely start working out; he was never the unfit kind.
As he blew out the puffs of smoke, the story became more and more elucidating. With all the chores lined up, he put off the cigarette butt. This is definitely going to be his last cigarette, he has been intending to quit for some time. He was somewhat content and stared at the silver crescent in the sky with a gratifying demeanor. The moonlight was abridged by the passing clouds as he stood there staring.
It was a while when he realized he has been standing out there gazing at nothingness. He shook his head as if trying to shake himself into consciousness and lit up another cigarette.
The still darkness of night shattered by the drops of rain smashing across the tin roof, the occasional howl of the wind demons, the stillness of the subdued light originating from the corner and a familiar lullaby playing in your head; makes you miss something, something not tangible, something you cannot name even if you want to, something you wouldn't want to be thinking about. It's there, always there on the back of your mind even in those busy work schedules where you have to stretch that extra hour to get the work done,even in those exhilarating adventures where your mind is preoccupied with the thrill, even in those happy moments where you are a child all over again. It takes a back seat for a while but reappears with every chance it gets, filling you with the overwhelming emotion, your eyes all wide looking for that all elusive something. It could be love for the romantic, success for the ambitious, peace for the sinful, a friend for the lonesome, home for the lost or could be a motley; I hope it gets you going first thing in the morning when the rain stops; or that dreaded sound on the tin roof is going to haunt you forever.
Things I used to hear from my parents all the time but actually learned in last 6 months:
--> If you have ten different tasks on your plate pick out the most difficult task first and finish it off. Having the toughest task done will give you the boost to finish off the list. As the wise men say "Well begun is half done".
-->If you really want to do something and find no one to do it with, then just stop waiting for others to join in. Take the darned first step and soon you will find that you won't need to call others...people will join in.
-->You will realize the value in being able to walk, talk, eat, drink, play normally when you are not well and can't do one of these things.
-->Many discoveries and inventions were a not planned...they were part of an accident. The point is: Keep Experimenting.
-->Don't get mad at yourself when you mess up something attempting it for the first time. Being good at something takes time and effort. Sachin was also clumsy when he held the bat for the first time.
-->It take hard work to become a good player from a bad player. It takes a whole lot more to improve from good to very good. More effort won't help you become the best, you would need passion along with the effort.
-->Be prepared to work hard if you truly want to enjoy your idle time. Being idle all the time sucks.
I don't know what I am going to write about in the next line. The plan is to not to plan...sounds a bit weird though but I’ll go on. I saw another stupid movie today. The reason they make only stupid movies these days is incomprehendable to me. I am not a movie buff but when I feel like watching one, I have to go watch one. I guess I always feel this way, when I get the impulse to do something, I have to somehow discover a way to do it or find it or eat it or see it or play it or whatever...you got the point. After all there is nothing wrong with it and most of the times the efforts and tantrums to make the implausible act to happen becomes more fun than the act itself.
One such act I remember was on a cold December night when I felt like playing table tennis. I like the game and when I feel like playing I really want to play. So, this cold day or rather night in December I called a couple of my friends and planned a TT game in the next half an hour. All set we assembled in the next thirty minutes in the gym; yes the TT table is in the gym. So there we were 4 guys, midnight and a TT table. We started the game only to realize the ball was making a funny sound. On close examination it was found that the ball was broken and it was the only one we had. Man! This thing gets on my nerves...a perfectly cold night, four friends, a deserted gym, all set to play and a BROKEN ball. There would not have been any shops open at that time and I somehow could not make peace with the fact the there wasn't to be a game tonight. In acts of desperation I called up my friends and other people in my workplace only to ask a question as polite as this: "Sorry to bug you at this unearthly hour. Do you by any chance happen to play table tennis or might by some holy mistake happen to have a TT ball with you."
Well as expected we could not get what we wanted. I guess even if anybody had it, he would have sworn at me for calling this time for a TT ball. But whatever, the important point now was that we wanted to play and we could not because of that stupid broken ball, I don't even know how it broke. Plan A had failed and so had plan B. Now out of utter desperation and growing restlessness came out plan C. There was a guest house near our place and it hosted a nice little TT room with all the accessories. We realized we would surely get what we wanted there. But the room was opened only to the people staying in the guest house and we would not even be allowed entry. Plan C said we would have to act all casual and suave to make the guard believe we stayed there. After making the master plan, I and one other folk make our move. We move towards the guest house all chit chatting and whistling as if returning from a good nice walk. We entered the place acting like we owned it. "Aur duty sahi chal rahi hai", I said to the security guard and he replied with a reluctant nod half in sleep trying to recognize who we were. He could not risk questioning our identity as the "sahibs" staying in the guest house won't like being questioned every time they enter or leave. He stood upright and we walked straight ahead as if we were walking in our backyard. We moved straight to the TT room acting all casual and smooth. We made an entry for a phony name and room in the register and went in. The guard outside the room could not care less. After acting to play for 5 mins I pocketed in the ball and we quietly moved out. Smooth as we were, there was no reason for anyone to suspect anything. The act of stealing had a moral implication but I guess stealing a 15 bucks TT ball should count as a negligible sin. And we being so pure and angelic and all, a little sin could do. And after all it was fun; yes it was sort of enjoyable. We come out as casually as we walked in and looking back the exercise did not look all that demanding. When we were just about to exit the main gate I saw my ally's back, who was moving just in front of me. It seemed kind of straight as though he had a wooden board inside his T shirt. Wow!!!! It was then I realized that my ally was one step ahead. I saw an outline of a TT racket and in my urgency to pocket the TT ball he had swiped the racket. Compared to a 15 bucks TT ball, stealing a 500 bucks racket was a big, even by our standards. We were about to exit and the guard seemed to be totally awake and staring at us. I tried to look away and kept moving. It seemed like he knew something was fishy. I don’t know whether he suspected something or you get this eerie feeling when you have done something you shouldn't have. But whatever, there was no turning back now and as soon as we reached the end of the street and turned around the corner, we ran like madmen to our place. We were laughing all the way back and my associate was holding his newly claimed weapon high in his hand, like a Tipu Sultan's sword. I don't even remember a bit about the game, whether we played or kept reveling in the joy of our impromptu adventure. I guess whatever we did that we later decided to not to take the guest house street for the next week or so. I might not remember the game that night, it would have been the most satisfying games, but I will not forget the not so dandy but a short little adventure that made the game possible, defying all odds. Thinking about it makes me realize another obvious fact of life "Almost all the time the journey is more savoring than the destination." P.S: I guess I was talking about the movie and got carried away. Whatever, don’t watch that stupid movie “I hate love stories”.
"I won't go to sleep until you tell me a story pa", exclaimed young Zafran.
"You are even more adamant than your mother. Come here", replied Kartik. He was a man in his late thirties with a face that suggested he had seen the thick and thin of life. He had tried hard to make young Zafran go to sleep but had eventually realized, after a series of such nights, that even someone as tough as him would have to bow in to this 8 year old's will. His son was his priciest possession and even though he had been feeling uneasy throughout the day he held young Zafran in his lap and started with the story.
Kartik spoke, “Once upon a time, there were two friends, Zain and Razzak. They were the best of friends. Their friendship was so deep, that it defied any limits, they could go any lengths for each other...If one was hungry other would give up his food, if one was weary other would complete his work, if one was in a fight other would gladly confront a punch..."
He went on narrating, racking his brain for the tiniest bit of details which were mere whims of his imagination. The power of articulation came naturally to him and young Zafran was already lost in his second world imagining Zain and Razzak marching hand in hand, completing their adventures.
"..One day when they were out on one of their adventures in the jungle, they confronted a gang of robbers.", continued Kartik,"They knew that if they were caught, they won't go back alive. So they hid behind the bushes and hoped that the robbers won't find them. Suddenly the robbers started approaching the place where Zain stayed hidden. With every passing minute Zain could feel the fear growing. Seeing that the robbers were about to catch hold of Zain, Razzak jumped out of his hiding and ran away into the jungle, daring them to catch him. He knew he had no chance but the thought that his friend will be safe became his strength. By the time Zain could understand what his friend had done for him, Razzak had vanished in the bushes and the Robbers had gone behind him. Zain felt deep within him that his friend would return and so he waited and prayed. After a couple of hours Razzak was back. He had defied all odds and had lost the robbers in the jungle. Seeing his dear friend again Zain's face lit up and as they hugged each other, tears rolled down his cheeks...”. Kartik stopped as he realized Zafran was already in sound sleep. He stared at his son's angelic face, sleeping with contentment. He laid Zafran in his bed and came up on the roof.
It was full moon and the silver strands of moonlight lit brightly on his rugged face. As he had gone on narrating the story to his son his stiff face had softened. The uneasiness which he had been feeling throughout the day now grew with every passing second. In his thoughts, he went 25 years back, same day, 1984 riots when his friend Razzak had faced the blow of the angry mob and let him escape unscathed. "Razzak", literally meaning the Protector, had given his life to live up to his name. He had been Kartik's protector. "It does not always end the way we have in the stories”, he thought.
He dearly wished he could hear Razzak’s voice now, calling him "the gracious", Zain, the name which only Razzak used to call him with, the name which now only existed in young Zafran's fantasy world. "At least they are together there..!!", he thought with a feeling of amelioration.
As he stood on the roof motionless, gazing away in the dark, a tear trickled down his weary face.
The solution to the most intricate problems is trivial ...and if it isnt ..either the problem is not difficult enough or you are thinking too much.. :)
The path may seem unclear right now But one day you will see.. That all that came before Was truly meant to be..
GOD wrote the book that is your life It might be full of strugle,full of strife But remember, HE only writes bestsellers!! So be proud of who you are.. Never carry a doubt on your existence Because in this book you are the STAR
what the hell is confusion is the feeling true or just an allusion i tell myself ..i know of myself.. there cant be a time when i have an illusion of course i know what to think..of course i know what to do i can have no confusion...i can have no confusion
but now, i aint sure of my steps my once giant leaps in wretched wrecks i once had a gaily gait there isnt a sign of that healthy trait i was known to solve problems ethereal now i scratch my head at things so trivial my voice ,was exemplum of phlegmatic speech now i shout , stutter and screech my beaming smile aint so sure to this confusion i find no cure
cant i think what is best isnt it the same scene where i used to relax and rest my mind and heart have entered a collusion oh my god!!.. this is confusion now i am wasted , vexed and bruised what the hell!!,i am confused..damn hell,i am confused..!!!
Its 3 AM , and the hostel corridor looks like a desolate wasteland..I can see ghostly apparitions but cannot trace a living soul.Every breath i take,every sound i make reverberates in the secluded block.Suddednly i find a wraith walking through the darkness towards me ,with a face so dark that even darkness dreaded to reveal his face.i shudder but somehow muster up the courage to light up my phone torch and hold it straight at the phantom's face. Phew..!!!! i breath a sigh of relief recognizing the ex-ghost as one of my friends Rahul.
No, i am not on the set of a horror movie but its one of those dreaded power cuts and most of the block people are asleep making it no less than a horror movie set. We decide to move to the roof.Wind is blowing with full force which is a relief from the morning sun's blaze. But relief is short lived because Rahul has brought his guitar with him and is as usual proving to be a nuisance,persuading me to make a song on the new tune he has made.I try to dismiss him politely but adamant as he is,i have to budge ..but promising myself that it wont take long and this will finish his guitar once and for all for the night.
i start off uninterested but soon i realize that woah..!! the proposition aint that bad.We have the protagonist of our heroic song right here in our block..none better than tiddu,reasons for that being...we will have loads to write and the song could never be banal..the spice element will be there. I sit with rahul engrossed,racking our brains for the tiniest bit of truth that could be exhumed and used as the lyrics.We laugh, we debate,we question, we challenge the credibility of the lyrics and after a brainstorming session we come out with a satisfactory copy of the song..our heads held high as though the next grammy's is ours..oh!! damn yes we are elated. We label this short litte session of ours as the making of "tiddu mere yaar"- yes this is the title of the song.i listen to the recording again revelling in its symphony...it all seems so perfect. The power's back and it is getting pretty late so we decide to sleep. i come back to my room, turn off the lights and lie down in order to sleep only to notice a faint smile crested on my lips..as if a person sleeps contended after the day's toil. (Ohhh yes i am surely going to get the grammy's in my dreams...!! ;) )
It wont probably be the best topic to have as your first blog post and perhaps not the best but as for the present , the question seems very intriguing to me so i would like to start off with this one.. a simple question..what would u like to do in your next 24 hours if you knew u would die after that..?? (to correct myself...not a simple question but an intriguing one indeed..) well pondering over the question lead me to some very interesting insights..how much work i have left unfinished planning for future tasks that i may not get even an oppurtunity to complete..how many things i had sidelined , for the things that could have been deferred and how much i wanted to do them.. The answer varied from proposing someone to trying out drugs but the most common point put forward by most people was that they would like to let ,the people they love , know how much they care about them and love them. Everyone would like to do that in his/her last hours but the question arises..why do it only then? most of us have some untended aspirations...deep down we have them.. that we so dearly want to complete...but we barter them for things that are not commensurable to them. we keep on deferring the proposition to go ahead with them until we are forced to do them or we have no alternative left. there are people in our life that we love but we hesitate admitting it to them or maybe do not feel the need to do it but leaving them leaves you with no choice but to divulge it all. There are always things undone but so wanted to be done..which we would only do when we know we have no choice or more aptly no escape route left. But why..? From childhood our head is stuffed with myriad ideologies one of them being "do not put off until tomorrow what u can do today." None of us would be knowing whether the next 24 hours would be our last or not..we may not even get a chance to do the stuff we listed we would want to do in our last times. The panacea for the problem lies in rising up from our slumber and tending to our deep unfulfilled desires.. i wonder about an ideal man whom when asked this question would reply " i cannot find anything special to do, i would live it as i have been living my other days..!!" but i dont think he exists....or does he????
