Betrayed by hope!!

I was waiting for you to come back
Dint know how to say, I was taken aback
Looking back at those lovely moments we endured
Can’t wake up from dreams, is there any cure?

You remind me of the breeze that makes one refreshed
I get swayed by it, like dry leaves instead
You are the incense which makes me feel high
But you wont let me near, am I unfit for thy??

I want to pause forever, never wanna face this fact
how could I forgive you for such a cunning tact
it pricks like needles, or like fierce arrows
pierces through my heart for uncountable blows

Only your thoughts now, show a ray of hope,
deep down in my soul I know it is all fake dope
Clinging onto this slight line, I am making my life drag
I am waiting for you, knowing that you won’t come back!!

Halla Bol

03.07.09 Friday

This article is about a day in my life, spent with friends in my office, doing stuff which will make us all to remember it forever. One of those days in my life among few others, which I know, I am going to remember, till I am alive. A day, which was fully lived, so complete and enlightening; my heart beating so fast that the person sitting next to me could almost hear it, a day of talks, plans, fun, accomplishments and laughter all around. One of those kinds, when it does not matter what you do, but it is going just right. Every dart hits the bull’s eye. A day for friends, a day of love, a day in rains.

It was dark cloudy sky outside, right since the morning. It was drizzling, like typical rains in Pune. We expected heavy rains today, but it just continued to drizzle for the entire day. We were already feeling to be on cloud 9 and to add, it was drizzling and to top it all off, it was Friday, the typical T.G.I.F (Thank God It’s Friday, for those not good at acronyms). ‘We’ refers to the group of friends who were a part of “Halla Bol” team including myself. The drizzle and the Friday effect roused our feelings. As if the time had stopped for a while. I asked myself if I could live these moments forever. Something was coming out of me, like a sudden burst of energy from nowhere, from some Supernatural source.

Let me start on how it all started before it gets too late. It all started yesterday night, when I composed an article. The article was about a short-lived, but complete and effective encounter of two people. I have been trying to write for quite some time now, but it’s that I still feel that something is missing. Or it may be just that you know your progress better, coz you are the one actually climbing the stairs. Well, the article was penned and my non-artist bro helped my type it. He showed his interest in helping me edit the same and finish it, though he is not interested in these kinds of things otherwise. The article was good and I think it will be published by the time you are reading this. Then I was off for a good night’s sleep and then it was “Halla Bol”.

The day started with a cool drizzle when I left for the office. I opened my computer, when a good friend and colleague pinged me to go outside. We went out, sat there in the shiny monsoon, talking about arts and writing, partially discussing the article I wrote the night before. This casual conversation turned out to be one of the most exciting meetings, which illuminated my mind and cleared the dusky clouds shadowing one of the major ideas I had for a long time. It helped me organize a story, which had existed in bits and pieces in my mind. I had been thinking about writing this story for quite some time and then get it published as my first novel. But you know, you cannot just expect to write a novel, get up the next day and do it while brushing your teeth. It is not easy. It is like facing Roadies auditions, or may be to learn Scuba Diving. All I mean to say is that writing a novel is a big deal. Coming back to the conversation with my friend, our discussion was slowly moving towards this story of mine. My friend showed lots on interest in hearing the theme line of the story. I started talking, and kept conversing for quite some time and he sat there, listening to my words, watching my expressions, trying to feel my thoughts and visualizing the story. The story was about a namesake relationship which transformed into a timeless bond. When I finished, he gave an expression, which I could compare with the looks I had when I watched “Titanic” for the first time, or may be “A beautiful mind”. I will always remember that expression. He was amazed. He really felt happy about the story. He has a great interest for arts, and in his pastimes; he is sometimes, a poet, or a writer, or a painter or if nothing goes well, for sure he is a guitarist. Music is his regular passion. You now know that I chose the right audience for my storyJ  Well, we kept discussing the story for a few more minutes. This was also the time, when my friend started pouring in his suggestions and feedbacks which could make the story look good. We also discussed what I wanted to be the essence of the story or to say, the meanings behind the lines. He then suggested some really great ideas, to which I affirmed to implement. I felt the scattered pieces of the story were moving towards each other, and slowly a marvelous picture appeared like it does in a jigsaw puzzle once you put every piece in the right place. I felt the importance of my story. I accepted that it is a lifework to be completed. It mattered much more to me now. It had to do lots with the mankind. It could become one of those immortal stories, you remember forever.

Well, the conversation ended when my manager called me for a meeting. Cocky managers are made to spoil moments like these, moments of creation and composition. The entire industry is revolving around a bunch of useless processes, fundamentally killing the creative thought of mankind and turning it into rat shit.  I was off for the meeting and as soon as the meeting was over, it was time for lunch. Maybe it was the cheesy effect of the dominoes cheese burst special that ignited this brilliant idea in me to make friends with a friend of a “desired friend”, which intimately served a purpose of feelings. This was not the first idea for this purpose, but one of the series of events that took place during the day, the day we ended up calling “Halla Bol”. Halla Bol”, resembling Ajay Devgan’s style, in the movie “Halla Bol”, a native Indian Hindi phrase which means “let’s shout” or “let’s attack”. I was walking with the attitude of a fully charged Gangsta joined by another teammate along the way and then another, striding in unanimity, as though we were about to rob a bank with guns on our shoulders. People scrambling out of the way giving us respect that we did not deserve otherwise, but just for the sake of “Halla Bol”. When we finally reached the point of attack, we were five.

Wow!!! I’m talking about attack as though as I knew what it meant. Well I do know now at least. It is that moment when you charge forward when you have nothing to lose but yourself, knowing that every step you take determines your fate. It’s the moment you know, will be the eventful time of life, even though other memories less significant will prevail. I don’t know if it’s the rush of blood in my head that made me do it or the instinct from my soul. The attack was fairly simple; I just had to “Talk to her”. Easy as it seems, it made my heart skip a beat. I convulsed when I saw her, maybe that is to blame the convulsion, which made me arise and say her name. Now I knew there was no way back, sweat began to flow. Fear creeping in my words, I then began to speak.”

It started out as a small chat which evolved into an enjoyable conversation and then into a long dialogue. I thought of these as small steps I had to take. I felt those tiny drops of sweat on my forehead, may be my body’s natural way of telling me to calm down. The stimulating conversation we had , had nothing to do with “Halla Bol”, only the importance of having it at the right time with the right person made it an exuberant and thrilling experience .This conversation contributes a lot to “Halla Bol” coz it gave us the energy , it gave us soul . The bottom-line was that it was over sooner than I thought, not in terms of time as I said before, but in terms of the thrill it gave me. This one hour of sunlight in the middle of this rainy day was to determine my fate for months to come or at least to affect it in a big way. I was glad that the attack was over, but even more glad of the temporary outcome. Was she nice? Maybe too nice .Well, I don’t know for sure .But time should tell. I will talk more about that in future. I am sincerely hope that time does tell me something.”

Then we all continued with the regular office work for the day and united in the office canteen at dawn, to share the celebration of my accomplishment. Everybody expressed their thoughts; their faces seemed red and vibrant with happiness. The red signified, for me, the red robe, held by a torero (the person responsible to get the bull by its balls). Was I playing the torero? I thought better to be the torero than the injured bull. I could imagine myself as the torero wearing an elongated hat in a huge arena (the office) with Spanish music playing in the background, the audience (my friends) cheering me to stand in front of the raging bull with sharp horns (implied friend of desired friend) who was angered by the poking of swords into her back. The fact of the matter is that the audience doesn’t care who dies, all that matters is just that they are entertained. They just want some balls on the ground, dead or alive, hardly matters. Maybe it was the bullfight which made me unstoppable. I had this millions pounds of energy flowing out of me, which was not going to halt at any cost. Friends tried to calm me down, but I wasn’t ready to or rather wasn’t able to or just maybe I didn’t want to. They were amazed to see me pass this kind of an exam with flying colors which necessarily contradicts with my perceived persona otherwise.

As the fight got over, the music started blaring. The sound of “Halla Bol” pulsing through my mind .This was a symphony of harmonious composition of love, friendship but with a very thin string of feelings dividing those two. This tells me that my heart still beats in tune with elements, other than myself. This made me feel more humane and implied that I can still fall in love. *So whenever u find yourself drowning in those dizzy dull thoughts, remember, it’s time for “Halla Bol”.*

~ to friends (Chote Dada, BabaJi, Neeraj, SLU and She)

A planned encounter

She stood so near to me, I was so sure this time. I could feel her. I could see her so close to me, although in a literal sense. I could feel the incense of her body. A mixed aroma of her partially wet hair, wide lips, and a budding young body. We stood there, besides each other, discussing routine stuff, which is always discussed. What was new and exceptional, was her smile, a gesture, seen while she was talking. That enlightened the moment and gave it a sense of purity. A cheerful expression and a glow in her face when I cracked a joke.

All I wanted was to make her smile. Smiles are worthy. I somehow knew but never realized this before. It really works. I stood there, static, watching her smile, a line of white teeth visible behind pink and sensuous lips. Her hair, tied at her back with few strands falling on her shoulder on the front. Her soft hands were moving, while she was speaking, as if she was a magician and casting a spell on me. This was all so real. I could not feel anything no more. This was a sense of achievement.

She finished what she had to and took a leave. I was suddenly taken aback. I did not want to show her that I missed her presence, which was painful but an ingenious experience for me. I did not want to let her go. Nobody could let go of the moments which filled their lives with so much joy. I could do no more. I had to let her go. I did not say anything, not a word. All I did was to see her leave.

She left on time, completing what she had to. It was as per plan and anticipated and cannot be retailored. Blocked calendars are never modified, except for other priority requirements sometimes, to move something pre or post, or to replace one appointment with another. They are never altered to occupy moments like this. Outlook or Squirrel has not yet worked on software’s to plan moments of bliss. They can only plan business meetings. Let’s hope for them to do better in the future.

I only kept thinking about her. She was so complete in her presence. She made me feel happy. She made me feel myself. I could not say anything or move. There was no hurry, in her actions, but a finishing. She was not an amateur. She was a professional, used to this world. She knew the rules. Not that she had no feelings, but she did not express it, or may be hid them so well, that nobody could find out. At least I could not. Then I got busy thinking about when I could see her next.

She rings too loud

It has been like a week and I can’t stop thinking about her. Yes, she is the one I am talking about, she is so cool and serene. I stare at her whenever I get a chance. Only to see, to admire her beauty, her charm, so lovely to be a spectator. To watch her working is such a delight.

She is so busy all the time. Engrossed in her work, completely, as if she does not know what is happening in the world outside. As if you could mute all the noise that is going around and inside your mind and concentrate on the needle point. She is so calm. I could never see a line of agony or negativity on her face. So controlled, so blessed and happy.

I felt this feeling in me. It is just like when you admire the nature or when you feel so blessed standing on a mountain when a stroke of cold breeze hits your face. Like when you watch fishes swimming in the water, so icy, such a symphony. This is it. This is love.

She rings too loud in my mind. I cannot stop her. It is like an orchestra, not like Linkin Park, I would say. That is killing. It is like Bob Marley, the redemption song. But this time I want to die. Is this real? Why does this happen. A music starts in your mind suddenly and everything else seems dull. Every routine day seems so long. These are the days, when I feel the best of me. It gets better every day.

She is the symbol. The symbol of purity. A sensation, a thundering. A ray of light during a rainy and cloudy dark night!

Donate a life

This thought started in my mind when I saw an eye donation camp hoarding in my office lobby. Donating an organ, I thought, must be some serious stuff. It is like you giving away your heart to somebody. Heart exchanges do happen in everyday lives of college students, but this one is serious matter. This is literal. They are asking for it, in real sense.

There are organs which you can donate after you die and there are ones which you could donate and accept a challenging life ahead. The latter is difficult. People donate kidneys, bone marrow, cartilage, blood etc. and continue to live a life, more alive and heartfelt, though. Eye donation is generally preferred after you die. The reason could be that eyes are the only organ or sense which keeps you connected with this world and its beauty. Without eyes, you cannot see, but you can feel and touch and listen. You need to be more sensitive to praise the world using your hands or ears or heart for that matter. You can try though, its not impossible. If you have love in your heart, you do not need mediums to express it. It will flow, with or without a medium, just like water flows.

This thought of donating an organ always thrills me. I have considered filling an eye donation form many times in the past, but I have not yet completed the process. I would love to, but the only problem is that, I feel scared. I would be happy to donate a part of mine and to be able to see that person alive and feeling happy about life. That one is for me, I think. The only thing I wait for now is the feeling of compassion. I feel, I will do it someday.

Words from my heart

• Music is love. It is the sound of love. Sound is the only way to express, to pour your heart, your love, out. I mean, it is the root, the very source of universe.
• Quality is the key. It makes you happy. It moves you an inch further to that divine energy. Hence it sells better. It has to.
• Emotion is life. Emotion is expression. It is our true nature. Be yourself, express yourself.
• I am still in control. I need more of it. I want to lose myself. This is life. This is it, the only moment, and I guess this is the only way out.
• I represent myself. I am my only salesman. I am the one who sells me best.
• Should I do it? Do I give myself to you as I would, when I feel what’s around me?
• Every moment is the bliss. Live here, die here. Take a shower and go back to work. This is it. This is the world, the only home.
• This is better than the last time. This is real good coz I am learning. This is Evolution. Yes, I am talking about Darwin’s natural selection.
• Pain is true. Pain is love. They are the same.
• Can’t I be this good all the time? Bless thyself. Let me be it. I am loving it. These are the moments, I will say.
• Music is energy. The very nature of music is therapy. It’s like going back home. It purpose is to make you feel better, that’s it. You got it.
• I cannot define sense. Is it being Sensuous or for that matter, Sensitive. Alive.
• I am living these moments. Let me have them. They add up in the end, to make my life. That’s also my age. Literally too, age means summation of the years, you were alive, yes, living.
• May be I am nearing to the best of me; my senses, my treasures, my gifts.
• Gratitude is yet to come, I think. I have stopped worrying these days. I am less scared now, relatively though, yes, that’s what I have achieved so far.
• Let me do it. Do not stop me from being me. Lets go back home. I am here to take you home. Lets go home, its time.
• She was there; I was so sure, so much that I was confident, not scared of her being there. But I guess, it’s a fair deal.
• I believe I will survive. I am a better person now, more in control, or that’s what it seems at least, and rather that is what it is supposed to be.
• They are waiting there like idiots and wanting something better to come. What an illusion! What more could come? This is the best shot. The day’s best panoramic capture by a photographer. Live now.
• If you feel alive in its presence, then it is something worth talking about. That might actually be it. Everything else is business.
• Her color is fair as clouds. Her walk is like ice, the breeze itself. Her arms are gray, slender and her clothes are gold. She moves me. There she is. She is the one.
• The best friend. She is the chilling wind of fall. I am at sea. Yeah, at sea.
• Judge anything by love. That’s it. It should move you. Love moves. It is its nature.
• Could you take me with you?

I owe this

I just want to say this
I owe this to you
although it is hard to explain
but my life wont be through

You must mean something to me
coz I don’t belong here at all
it fills my heart more everyday
that someday you will take a call

I stopped thinking long ago
but it seems farther than that
may be expressing this is just
a small part of that huge debt