UNLEARN

I spoke to my friend J yesterday after a long time. J entered my life quite unexpectedly, and I almost missed the chance of meeting J, because I was planning not to go for the party at which I met J. Something happened, and I finally decided to go to the party. A lot of changes have come about in my life since I met J, and I can safely attribute all of them to the event of J entering my life. The best part is, J feels the same way; J too feels ‘a connection’, and it is nice to have my feelings reciprocated, and with the same intensity, after such a long, long time. (And for all of you wondering who J is, well, whoever J maybe, I guess you really want to know if it’s a boy or a girl. J is a girl; and that’s the way the cookie crumbles!)

So I was talking to J and she told me she fell out with a friend of hers. This came as quite a shock to me. I know J’s friend too, but when J told me the reason for their falling out, I wondered if I knew J’s friend at all! The things J was saying about her friend were so… starkly the opposite of the things I thought about J’s friend, it was hard to believe we were both talking about the same person. We are all interested in spirituality and philosophy, me, J and her friend. We haven’t talked about it at length, but every time I am with J, I feel like we are saying a lot through what we do around each other, rather than what we say; I feel like we are conversing at a very different level. J’s friend is also into spirituality and philosophy, and that is how I got to know her. I guess now you can understand why it was so hard to believe when J said she couldn’t stand being around her friend any longer because of all the negativity and anger filled in her.

I pondered upon all that J had told me for a while. It really amused me. How can a spiritual and philosophical person also be so vulnerable to anger, and jealousy, and greed, and respect and all the superficial things in life? If your understanding of spirituality and philosophy does not help you get over things in life, if your spiritual advances do not help you let go, what’s the point? Yes we are all humans and we are all prone to feeling angry and hurt and disappointed and all the emotions any human mind and/or heart is capable of feeling. But is holding onto bygones going to get you anywhere? And most importantly, how can you be spiritual, how can you know the importance of unlearning, and still cling onto bygones? I mean, I seriously wonder, don’t these people realise what they are doing?

As I see it, spiritual growth should let you come to peace with, what I call, the way of things. There are two kinds of things in life; those we can do something about, and those that are beyond our control. From what I have seen among family and friends, I have noticed that we often get the two mixed up. We do nothing about the situations we have the power to control or change; we leave it up to fate or destiny. On the other hand, we go out of our way to try and fix things that, it is not within our power to fix. This causes us so much of suffering and misery, it is unbelievable! I had a row with one of my cousins recently over something so silly that I do not even remember it any more. At that point when I let some steam off, well… I had to let some steam off! And so I did. But my cousin has taken it far too much to her heart; and things have kind of been weird between us ever since. Now, I really love my cousin. Yes I got mad at her, and I let my temper get the better of me. In my defence, I will say, my lid blew off as a result of a LOT of things that had come my way from my cousin. But getting it out of my system, and giving her a piece of my mind, brought me back to neutral.

Sadly, however, she hasn’t been able to get over it.

Now if I could, I would make things go back to the way they always were between us for all these years. But I can’t; because it isn’t in my hands to control or affect how my cousin reacts to things. However, what has deeply saddened me is the realisation that in spite of being such a spiritual person, she hasn’t been able to unlearn, to let go and move on. I am not saying this just because it concerns me. I feel sad for my cousin for every single time she has been unable to unlearn, even in issues where I was not directly involved. You have to come to peace with certain things. Yes they wronged you, they cheated you, and you feel like you’ve been used. What can you do about it? Does it help going to bed with all these thoughts in your mind?

It is not always in our hands to control the situation we find ourselves in. But we can definitely choose what our take on the situation is going to be. Reactions are inevitable. But how long you let the feeling last, is in your hands. Spiritual growth should help you realise this – that even in the bleakest moment, you have a choice; to either move on, or cling on. The beauty of the whole thing, however, is not in this realisation; it is in what comes after the realisation. Once you know – truly know – the transient nature of things, letting go becomes easy and effortless, and after a point… unnecessary; because you never really let anything come close enough to cling onto you. Bad day? Tell yourself, “This is just one day in so many that are going to make up my existence. I am not going to let this one day define my life. I’m gonna go home take a nice nap, and tomorrow I am going to forget all about today.” It really works. This is a phase, this too shall pass.

Take a second, a minute, a day, a month… take as long as you need, but do what it takes to get rid of things like that. It is every bit worth the effort.

ON AGE, LOVE AND ELIZABETH GILBERT

Seldom has it ever happened that some random quote I shared as a status on Facebook actually turned out to be true, so that when it happened today morning, I was quite bemused!

I had lend my copy of Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat Pray Love to a friend of mine, more than a year ago. She happened to return it to me yesterday. The sight of that book in my hand after all these years kind of reminded me how much I liked it. I flipped through the pages of the book, stopping at random passages... Dario and Giovanni, Richard from Texas, finally Felipe arrived, and I smiled at the sight of his name of those yellowed pages of the book. Felipe. Yes I remembered that character well.

I gave up leafing and read through the rest of the book thoroughly. One of the sentences stayed with me -

"It is only the young and stupid who are sure about sex and love. Do you think any of us know what were doing?"

It stayed with me through the book. It stayed with me through dinner. It went to bed with me. When that happens, I usually get up, grab my cell phone in the dark (as I am too lazy to actually get off the bed and turn on the lights), and update the status message on my Facebook profile with whatever it is that has so obstinately stayed with me. And that is what I did last night...

I got up in the morning to go to work today. I had forgotten about the status update (as I had spent almost an hour and half talking to my friend after that, and the conversation was playing on in my mind). But on my way to work, I happened to pass by a local college. I saw this really young couple - 11^th or 12^th grade boy and girl. I am guessing I am not the only one - but I have this uncanny knack. One look at a boy and a girl, and i immediately know if they are just friends, lovers, or siblings. I just do! So the moment I saw these guys, I knew they were a couple. The boy was really good-looking. The girl quite ordinary. They were sitting on a parked two-wheeler, and I could tell it was a spanking new one. What happened within the next few seconds was this - the guy pulled out his cell phone, took the girl's arm and wrapped it around himself and clicked a self-portrait. Just as I passed them I heard the girl say "trouble" and the guy say "but we love". The girl had gone crimson in her cheeks and was mock hitting the guy.

The sight somehow made me smile... it reminded me of a time when I was their age. I was so sure about sex and love too! Just like that guy was sure that because he loved the girl, they were permitted to click a picture together. Our equations, fundas, concepts are so clear when we are young, isn't it? I remember myself from when I was their age... I thought I knew what love is, what marriage is, what a relationship is, what I want my guy to be; in fact, I didn't think I knew, I knew that I knew! I was so sure!

But you grow up, and all hell breaks loose. This whole thing we call 'experience' - it doesn't always do you good, does it? I don't think so. I mean, what good have a couple of heartbreaks done to me? Yeah, you will say "They have made you stronger", and all that bull. But what good is it to become as strong as a stone?

Sometimes it becomes difficult to keep faith. It becomes difficult to wait. Sometimes all you want is for time to freeze, so that you don't race into another heartbreak, so that you don't collide head-on into another disillusionment. And it need not necessarily be a happy time you want to freeze. Sometimes you are content with it just being neutral. Just no more 'happenings'... that's all. Is that too much to ask?

In the end the filter should be in our hands - which experiences we want to keep with us and take with us to the grave, and which ones we want to pass as 'bad teachers'... after all not every teacher we meet in life is a good one, for there sure is a great deal of difference between a knowledgeable person and a good teacher! Filter. That's all.

ON BELONGING

Have you ever wished to be invisible? Be forgotten? Wished like nobody knew you? Like you could just sink into oblivion… not be a part of anything… or just exist, just 'be' without having to be a part of anything? Sometimes everything about the world, the world around you, your world, seems so fake… fake smiles, fake laughs… fake worries, tensions… it’s like having two people live inside of you, each with their own mind. One seeks to rise above everything and everyone; while the other aches to be ordinary, if only to not be alone. Sometimes you wish you had the same set of problems people your age have – low grades, bullies at school, subjects you don’t like, a crush way out of your league, low salary, low self-esteem… anything must be better than to feel like you were born in the wrong era… the wrong society, the wrong culture… or worse still the wrong family... Radical differences between your intellect and that of people around you can make you feel like an outcast in a really powerful and crazy way.

And then an endless search begins – for that one person who would at least understand you, if not accept you and/or be with you. You look for that one person who you hope will know what it is to feel the way you do… Have you ever been in the company of all your favorite people and still found it difficult to keep up with what was being discussed or talked about? You kind of get up from your chair, take a few steps back and look at yourself, sitting in the company of those strangers. You – or whatever it is you want to call it; your mind, your soul, your heart, the “real” you – just look at your expressionless face, blank eyes, and there is nothing you can do but laugh at the sight and nod your head in a “poor guy/girl” way! And then suddenly a loud cheer, a pat on the back, and you snap out of it, and “you” shoots back to its place in the body – the head, or the heart perhaps. I have even felt the jolt of “me” returning to my body sometimes... actually, physically felt it…

And these few fractions-of-a-second of a possible out-of-body experience are enough to question the purpose of a life, or its mere existence even…

And after you have exhausted yourself and the ATP molecules in your brain cells, comes the final question – does he/she or do they feel like I do? Does it bother him/her/them as much as it bothers me? You gather the nerve to finally ask your bestest among your best friends – “gather the nerve” not because you are afraid of being made fun of, but for the fear of discovering that even your bestest of the best friends is not on the same plane as you are. You call him/her up, call him/her over, make a cup of coffee, sit down, start a conversation and build up to your question… but even as you are just about to touch upon the topic, you are hit stark in the face by a sudden realization – either that your friend has his/her own set of problems they are worried about... a guy/girl they know they can never have, a promotion that seems to forever elude them; problems that are very common, very “routine”; problems that you never had and probably (or luckily) will never have... but problems that you would happily exchange yours for… or you suddenly realize, like a brainwave, the utter and complete pointlessness of the whole thing.

With time it even becomes difficult to have a simple conversation with someone – because you are fatigued of feeling detached, disconnected. Then you hear the buzz around you whenever you go out and into the company of people you know – “oh he/she has changed so much; we had so much in common before, so much to talk about; now we hardly talk; not for months together even” kind of things. Its nobody’s fault really. In fact, it is not a mistake to begin with. It’s just a difference – a huge one, so to say… like a dog that can see colour, or a musician who is deaf… after a while you just tend to retrieve into yourself and prefer to be in your own company... if nothing else then to avoid conflicts.

But that search for that one person always continues… not always conscious… not always conspicuous… but always there, nonetheless… and it is the same with a good film, good music, a good book, or your favorite hangout… the feeling that YOU BELONG…

DIARY OF A SLUTTY GIRL

So I wake up in the morning after a good night’s sleep and brush my teeth and come into the drawing room, and I am greeted by a grumpy Dad who is behaving rather touchy today, asking Mom to run the mixer-grinder at a lower volume… guess that late night movie he stayed up for didn’t turn out to be that good after all, or he just got off the wrong side of the bed. It is Sunday and I am eager to lay my hands on the Times Life supplement of The Times Of India (TOI) – not that it is very great or whatever; it is the only day I have time to while away on the morning coffee, and being uninterested in politics and in ‘reading’ sports leaves very little to be read in newspapers.

I go through the articles I usually read – God & I featured Madhur Bhandarkar today… I do quite like the guy, or maybe I should say I DID quite like the guy till I lay eyes on his picture that was printed with the article. You know how sometimes a single picture can speak a thousand words? This one spoke chapters to me – and very weird ones, if I may say so!

Then I came upon this article called “The Faster Sex!” that talked about how women move on and into a new relationship faster than men do, post a break-up… nothing new again, if I may say so!

After that I saw this column called “Diary of a Single Girl” and made a mental note to come back to it in the end.

I turned to the last page and came upon my favourite little feature of the supplement – Book Shelf. Being a voracious reader, I am always interested in and on the lookout for new books to read. Book Shelf is a nice way to find out who’s reading what – as I do not have too many friends who are into reading; sigh.

Today Book Shelf featured Chetan Bhagat, and the article carried along with it a picture of Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart; and I knew I was going to regret reading it! Here’s what he said –

Current read: At the moment I am not reading anything as I am busy writing my next book and don’t want to get influenced. (Right; as if books/moves you have read/seen so far haven’t/won’t influence what you have written/are writing. Old tosh. And seriously, we asked you your current read, not how you go about writing a new book or whatever. He could have just simply said the next sentence without “accidentally” mentioning this little piece of information!) My last read was the Twilight series, as I wanted to know what attracted millions to it. (Really? That’s why you read the Twilight series? Seriously? Swear by your writing talent (!)? I am going to go read the book he is currently writing once it’s out and then decide whether or not to believe in these two statements.)

Number 1: You want to tell the world you are writing a new book, have someone interview you, or hold a press conference if you must; but please do not mention it while answering “current read”! It’s just… eeeeeeewww.

Number 2: You read the Twilight series and enjoyed it, fine. No one’s gonna hang you by the neck for saying that. But saying you read it because you wanted to find out what attracted millions to it is utter gibberish, and totally uncool.

Needless to say I did not move on to Chetan Bhagat’s all-time favourites.

I was almost about to toss the supplement away when I remembered marking that article – Diary of a Single Girl. I turned back to the article and settled down to read it.

And by the end of it, I was looking for a carry bag to puke.

Literally.

Lemme tell you why.

I have been writing since grade seven, and I have been actively blogging since 2007; and someday I aspire to make my mark in the literary world. And I think the best job for me would be that of a columnist. As I see it being a columnist, for me, means getting to write about what you want to write about, getting a readership for your writing, and opening up an interactive forum where writer and reader both make the column a success. It truly is my dream job.

And here is this… this whatever… who has a column and is using it – correction: wasting it – to describe her slutty escapades, and how she is young, and has an active sex life, with complications such as her beau having an incredibly sexy Armani clad younger brother who found her the prettiest girl in the room, and how she was attracted to him as well, how she doesn’t want to mix up with her beau’s friends but rather wants to spend time with her own friends, how her beau has friends who bring scantily-clad girls to parties, how these girls are all over every guy in the room, including the writer’s (Oh how I hate to call her a “writer”!) beau, and how this makes her jealous, and how she hates silicon but doesn’t mind boasting about her natural twins (though I seriously doubt the part about them being “natural”; and like silicon is slutty but saying you have Greek goddess boobs isn’t; I’m not kidding, you can read the article, those are her actual words!)… and then the article ends with a part of her wishing she meets her beau’s younger brother again, and another part of her wishing they never cross paths again.

Seriously – Diary of a Single Girl?

Single?

Girl?

Is this what signifies or represents the lives of Single Girls?

I was shocked TOI ever approved the concept of such a column being published in Times Life – like we don’t have enough people obsessed about Sex and the City or Desperate Housewives already? Not that I really like TOI or whatever, I am pretty neutral towards newspapers. But seriously!

It is shocking and disgusting what is becoming of the literary scene these days… few self-proclaimed, fresh and young writers are spoiling the name of some truly fresh and young writers out there; maybe some who are yet to be discovered even!

Apparently the column comes with no email-id of the “writer” (cringe!) or any detail where you can mail feedback. But honestly, would you even want to try and give feedback to a newspaper who had agreed to print/publish anything like that in the first place? Really, do the editors even read the article before publishing it?

Being single, being on your own has got so much more to it than what the article talks about! The article is just so utterly distasteful. It makes me feel guilty of being single myself!

I think people just do not understand the responsibility and the opportunity they have sometimes – this girl has a column to herself; and a BIG column too. Does she even realise what it means to have that kind of a platform, a voice, especially in a world that is so over-crowded that people can’t even hear each other talk? Does she realise what it means to have that kind of power to really make a difference? I always get to listen to grown-ups/elders say how our generation is becoming all promiscuous and disgraceful – so who is sitting in the TOI office, a bunch of teenagers?

The single biggest problem of today is “dogma” – in the words of a dear friend of mine. This whole chalta-hai attitude that everybody seems to succumb to these days is just plain and simple repulsive, and encounters with people with such an attitude even more so. And by everybody I mean “everybody” – from students, youngsters and teenagers, to teachers, employers and all sorts of pseudo responsible grown-ups; from “us” to “them”, irrespective of whichever side of the line you are standing on.

I do not know for how many more weeks am I going to have to endure that column – not that I will be reading it every time its published; but the mere sight of it is going to ache, I know it for a fact. But this is something that should be given a serious thought. I wouldn’t even go and try to comment or utter a single word of the girl who wrote that column – for it is despicable. But if that is what it means to be single – going around acting slutty – if that is what being single has come down to, I would very gladly like to declare:

I am single, and I am not a slut.

FRIENDS

Being in a city you hardly know – or one where hardly anyone knows you – can give you the kind of freedom where you can do things as simple as taking a walk with a guy at half past eleven in the night. It’s not like you are doing something rather blasphemous, neither is it that you are acting careless or being impulsive. But somehow you wouldn’t do that in your hometown.

On a particularly starry night, Falon was walking down an almost deserted road with her best buddy in this strange town she was only beginning to learn and like. She kept asking Aditya where they were going; but Aditya just kept on talking and kept on walking.

“Tum kitna sochti ho Falon!” (You think too much Falon) he exclaimed turning back to look at her. He kept walking backwards. “Aren’t you having a good time?”

“I am Aditya. I would have gone straight home from the restaurant if I wasn’t.”

“Then keep walking!” he said.

“Giroge,” Falon warned (You’ll fall).

“Nahi girunga,” Aditya said (No I won’t), and almost the next minute he had landed square on his butt.

Falon burst out laughing and gave Aditya a hand to get up.

“Ooouww,” Aditya moaned as he slowly got up. He took one look at Falon and immediately added – “I know you told me, don’t go and say it again.”

“Don’t wanna walk?” Falon said.

“Nah,” Aditya replied.

“Where were we going anyway?” Falon asked.

“Well, there is this kind of a playground close-by that kids in the neighbourhood use as a cricket-field. It’s just an open area actually, nothing great. But there are not too many trees and all, so the sky really looks beautiful from there. We could have gone and just sat for a while and…”

“And what?” Falon prompted.

Aditya reached inside his bag-pack and pulled out a bottle of wine.

“Oh come on! I can’t let you sit here after showing me that! We have to go! The place can’t be so far away now, can it? We’ve been walking for almost twenty minutes! And you –“

“Okay okay! We’ll go!” Aditya said, throwing his hands up. “Crack pot,” Aditya said and looked at Falon out of the corner of his eyes and ducked immediately. But Falon was just smiling.

“What? You’re not going to hit me?” Aditya questioned.

“I finally figured why you call me that,” she said.

“Pray! Do enlighten me,” Aditya teased.

Falon stepped closer. She leaned in till her mouth was right next to his ears and then answered – “It’s because I intoxicate you as much as one.”

Aditya kept looking at Falon. Suddenly Falon burst out laughing.

“Gotcha!” she said. “After all those straight-faced jokes of yours, I finally got back at you!” She kept stepping onto and off the footpath, like she were doing a little victory dance.

“But you are not far from the truth,” Aditya said. Falon stopped dancing and turned around to look at Aditya. Aditya walked up to her and took her hand in his.

“No matter how good you are sweetheart, the last one’s always mine,” he said, and winked at her.

“ADI! Not fair ya!” Falon said as she jerked his grip off. Aditya caught up and hugged Falon around her waist.

“Come on Falon,” he said, trying to make up to her. “Be a sport!” he teased, and soon enough they were both giggling like teenagers.

“I knew you were kidding,” Falon said, blushing only slightly.

“No, you didn’t. You totally fell for it,” Aditya said.

“Okay I admit, maybe for a moment I did. But I would never take it seriously for more than that! The concept of dating you is just so weird, so – so alien!” Falon added.

“I know, I know,” Aditya said – “Same to you!” he said and stuck his tongue out. Falon stuck hers out at him in response.

“Look at us! We are crazy!” Falon said.

“No, I am totally sane – but yes; if not you, your madness sure is intoxicating!” Aditya replied. They had reached the old rusty gate that guarded the playground from trespassers. Falon looked at the heavy padlock chained to the gate.

“Now what?” she asked.

“We climb, and then we jump!” Aditya said, securing his bag-pack on his back and began climbing up the gate. He reached the top and jumped onto the wall next to it. He turned around. Falon was merely staring at him.

“What, did you think there was gonna be champagne and red carpet to welcome you?” he said. “Come on! You can climb up! You’re wearing jeans!”

Falon handed her clutch to Aditya and climbed up the gate and sat next to Adi on the wall.

“Yahin baithate hai?” she suggested. (Let’s stay here?)

“Arre no ya! Let’s go to the centre of the playground! Trust me, you will love it,” Aditya said.

Falon turned to look at the ground and heaved a sigh. “I am so tired ya… please!”

“Moti! (Fatso!)What tired?” Aditya teased. “Come on!” and before Falon could say another word in protest, Aditya had jumped off the wall and started walking towards the centre.

“Saala mere ko moti kehta hai,” (You’re calling me fat, you dog!) Falon said jumping of the wall herself. “Ruk. Abhi dikhati hun.” (I’ll show you who’s fat.) She took off her jacket and tied it around her waist. She rolled up the sleeves of her white cotton blouse. She took a stance and called out to Aditya.

“ADI!”

Aditya stopped dead in his tracks and turned around to look at Falon.

“HERE I COME!”

And the next moment Falon was racing towards Aditya. Aditya recovered from the initial shock and started running himself. He huffed and puffed as he saw Falon come from behind him and dash ahead of him, and before he knew it, she had reached the centre of the ground!

Aditya slowed down as he saw Falon do her little victory dance again. He covered the rest of the distance in a slow-jog.

“So who’e the fatso, eh?” Falon said.

“Hey, you’re a trained athelete, okay? I am a commoner! You should appreciate I even tried to race you,” Aditya said as he kneeled down on the ground. Falon kneeled next to him and immediately started tugging at his bag-pack.

“Come on now. You shouldn’t keep a girl waiting for so long for a drink! All that walking and running’s made me thirsty!”

Aditya laughed as he let Falon pull his bag off his back and watched her as she opened the wine bottle. A couple of big gulps later she realised the oddness of the whole thing. “Why do you have a wine bottle on you anyway?”

“Because we were going to meet at your place initially? And because it is good manners to take a bottle of wine when someone calls you over for dinner.”

“Since when did ‘manners’ become so important to you?”

“Since now,” he said and pulled his bag out of Falon’s hands. He pulled out a small gift neatly wrapped in plain blue paper with an ink blue coloured ribbon on it. He held the gift out to Falon and said “Happy birthday sweetheart.”

Falon looked at her watch. It was mid-night. Falon just kept staring at her watch. “How did you know?” she asked without looking up.

“I’d asked you, you’d told me a long time back!” Aditya exclaimed.

“No I meant – how did you think of doing all this? Mid-night, wine, new-moon, blue wrapping…”

“Well, that’s what friends are for, isn’t it?”

Falon still kept staring at her watch and refused to look up. Aditya moved closer to her and held up her face. He saw a tear trickle down Falon’s cheek.

“Falon.”

“No! It’s ok. I’m alright,” Falon said, readily rubbing her cheeks clean. She held out her hand, and Aditya placed the gift in it. She untied the ink blue ribbon and the paper unfolded. Falon took one look at the little black box and knew what was inside. She handed the box back to Aditya. “I would like you to put it on me,” she said.

Aditya smiled and opened the box. He took the silver chain out, closed the box and set it on the ground. Falon quickly picked it up and dusted it.

“Oho! Niche kyun rakha? (Why did you put it down?)”

Aditya held his ears.

Falon smiled and turned her back to Aditya. She pulled her hair onto one side. Aditya carefully held the chain in place and tightened the clasp. Falon turned around and looked down at the pendant – a pair of small silver dolphins, with diamonds as eyes.

“This is just perfect Aditya,” Falon said.

“What, are you kidding me? The bottle’s not even half empty!” Aditya said, and they were giggling all over again. Aditya looked at Falon for a moment, and then lay down on his back. “Lie down,” he urged Falon. “You’ve got to check out the view.”

Falon removed her jacket from around her waist and laid it on the ground so as to not spoil her white blouse. She lied down and exclaimed almost immediately.

“This is lunatically beautiful!”

Aditya laughed.

They laid there for a while, both not saying a word. The summer air was not cold, but was far from hot too. They laid there for a while, both talking about myriad things – their first birthdays, their latest crushes, the last movie they’d seen together, the worst New Year’s Eve they’d had, the one time in their lives when they felt nothing was impossible… after a while they were just staring at the sky… the clear, moonless, starry sky.

“That,” Falon said, pointing out to a star, “is the Orion.”

“Hmmm.”

“I’ve always loved that name, ‘Orion’. If I have a daughter someday, I’m gonna name her Orion.”

“Orion. But you know Orion is ‘The Hunter’, right?”

“Is it?” Falon asked, quite surprised. “I didn’t know that!”

Aditya laughed. “Funny you want to christen your girl with a name you do not even know the meaning of!” Aditya remarked.

“Aye! It’s still a beautiful name! And I will name my daughter that someday…”

“I hope you do also know that to have a daughter you need to be married; to a man no less…” Aditya remarked again. Falon hit him on his stomach. “Ooouww!” he exclaimed.

“Come on! It’s not like I am never going to get married!”

“I know honey, I am only teasing…”

Falon suddenly put her arm around Aditya and hugged him.

“Ha! You cry and I want to hug you, and you verbally push me away. And now you hug me. Why can’t I push you away?”

“Who said no? Of course you can. But do you really want to?” Falon challenged, and Aditya only put an arm around Falon in response. They stayed like that for a moment, and then Falon got up and sat, leaning against Aditya’s legs.

“You know Aditya, I was really grateful when we became friends. There’s a certain age that we all cross in life, after which there’s hardly ever a guy who approaches you because he wants to be nothing more than just a friend. They all are always attracted to you, and so want to become your friend in the hope of becoming a lover sometime down the line. What makes it ugly is when they realise it’s not gonna work out. Then they cut you off like you never existed. Whatever happened to friendship? Sometimes I hate this whole ‘love’ funda. It’s like, there’s a guy and a girl, they are best friends, till they become teenagers, and then they get attracted to each other. In the beginning its all weird cos, they are like best buddies till then. And then they get all infatuated, and start to think it’s ‘love’, and then they start dating, going out, till one of them finally grows up or – luckily – both of them do. But then it’s even weirder, cos now every time they meet each other as friends, they think about the times when they were sweethearts… and then they just, kind of, let it die.”

Falon paused. Aditya waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. Finally he prompted her –

“What was his name?”

“Rohan.”

“Hmmm.”

There was another long pause.

“I am just so glad that’s never gonna happen between us,” Falon said finally. “Sometimes that’s all that you want – a best friend.”

“Correction,” Aditya interrupted. “You may get tired of a brother, an aunt, your mother, even love for that matter – or love even more so. But no matter what, that’s something you will always want – a best friend.” Pause. “That was a good line!”

Falon applauded and held up the bottle.

“It was a mighty good one!” she exclaimed.

They mingled for a little longer and talked about some more random stuff after that. They then walked back to the restaurant, in front of which they had parked their bike. They held hands while walking, on their way back, and it wasn’t weird at all. It was the most comfortable feeling in the whole world…








*Author’s Note: A lot of people wonder quite often how girls sometimes find it easier to talk to boys than other girls. A lot of people ridicule and even deny accepting friendship between a guy and a girl as just friendship and nothing else. This piece is to celebrate exactly that – friendship. It is to celebrate the kind of comfort you have with your best friend that you don’t with any other person in the world. This piece is for all those who have – at least at some point of time, even as briefly as for a moment – valued friendship. This piece is for those unselfish people in your life who like you for what you are, not what you can be; for those people who you can call even only once in a year and still share the same warmth and connect as you used to in your hey-days… this one’s for you, my Friend. Even as cliché as it sounds, life’s truly is beautiful cos you’re a part of it.

THE MEMORY

The power of the human brain or mind – I don’t know which is it exactly – to associate certain things or situations with certain people or places is so strong that it amuses me sometimes, and almost makes me wish it weren’t so…

… that movie which always makes you think of your best friend, no matter the place where you are watching the movie, or the time of the day at which you are watching it…

… or that fragrance that you associate with those cold winter mornings when you used to go for an early morning walk…

… or that song that reminds you of a love that was never meant to be…

You associate every minute detail of that memory with the person or the place that they remind you of – though it may not always hold true. You see your friend in place of the protagonist in the movie; you suddenly start to feel cold, even though it isn’t cold that day, and you wish that someone special meant the words of that song for you and only you, almost as if he wrote it for you…

And then you almost instantly wish you had not remembered… you wish you had forgotten all about it…

On a particularly neutral night, 2572 songs playing on shuffle mode, and the one song that still manages to send chills up and down my spine plays… and I freeze. I do not turn it off. I do not turn it up. I just keep staring at my laptop, and the song keeps playing… an agonising seven minutes fifty-six seconds long song… it just keeps playing…

… and then that particular line that I still so strongly associate with him…

I close my eyes – and I am in that small studio apartment again, in his arms, underneath that teddy-bear blanket, content – though not comfortable maybe, sharing one small mattress on a cold winter evening…

I almost feel my stomach knotting as it all comes back so strongly as nothing can ever bring it back.

I open the folder containing the song. I right click on it – but I just can’t bring myself to delete it…

It is the only song in my library that is in .m4a format…

It is the only song by that artist in my library…

It is the only thing that’s proof that he is not just a character from one of my stories but was for real; that he really happened to me.

He has vanished off the face of my life.

I do not have his number.

I do not remember his e-mail address.

I do not remember any contact detail…

But I don’t know if I should be glad about it or not…

‘It would be nice to listen to his voice again’, I think, only to realise I have forgotten what he sounds like…

‘It would be nice to know what he is doing now’, I think, only to realise he is not even in the same city any more…

So many things forgotten…

And then why do I still associate this song with him?

It is a pity I will never appreciate the song ever again in my life – for I cannot listen to it and NOT think about him…

And the thought of him – ah! It pains! The pang is deep, the pang is genuine… the pang is proof that he is not just a character from one of my stories but was for real; that he really happened to me.

How is it that a single song or a single movie is able to recreate the mood, the feeling, and the state of mind that is now a thing of the past, to such a minute detail?

I almost rub my sides, in fearful anticipation of finding his arms still wrapped around me… but I feel my own touch, and I don’t know if I am glad or sad that it’s only me… that hereon it will always be only me… that the memory will never be complete…

Dhadkan yeh mere dilki… puchhe re tere dil se… ke sach-much kya hai tu duniya mein?

BLINDED BY THE MUNDANE

Today I appeared for the last internal theory exam of the semester, and probably of my life. From the waking moment of the day, I was feeling rather anxious. I tried to place cause and effect in order, but couldn’t. I decided to stop thinking about it and to concentrate on the exam that lay ahead.

The hour of the exam came and went – but the feeling remained. After the exam, we went to the college canteen and sat down to snack a little. We started talking about all the usual topics – a project that had finally come to an end, a thesis that was finally in hand, a college that we were finally going to get out of, a staff that we would finally not have to bear everyday… though many of the things we said were exaggerated, many of them were even true. I went and submitted a copy of my thesis at the institute where I did my thesis project – and on the way I realised this was probably the last time I was going to that place too; the last time I was driving down that road (for I have nothing else that would take me on that course again); the last time I was going to pass by those colourful teddy bears that a small family sold on the street; the last time I was going to wish I could just drive further down the road and go visit my friend who lives close by (for now I actually can do it when I want, and not just keep wishing I could).

And I realised that was where my nervousness was coming from – that finality in the day today.

Everything was coming to an end, one after the other – like the chapters of a book.

Since school I had been sure about what I wanted to do – science stream in 11-12th; graduation in Microbiology after that; post graduation after that… and now suddenly I didn’t know what lay ahead, or what I wanted to do.

It was a hilarious moment when suddenly Shahid Kapoor flashed in my mind – running alongside white horses in Kaminey.

That’s kinda how I felt at that moment – and there is only little exaggeration in the statement.

For the first time on my way back from the institute today, I noticed 6 different trees in full bloom in the middle of summer. I also noticed a dhobhi-ghaat by the banks of the river which I drove over every day. I drove by at 30kmph from the institute to my house, and it took me 45 minutes. But I didn’t feel the need to hurry to anywhere today. I was on my own. I could go home when I wanted. I could NOT go home if I wanted. There was no one expecting things off me – time, punctuality, results, reports, answers, marks, nothing.

I was free.

The realisation was one full of relief and fear; relief because now I had a lot of free time, fear because I had not a clue about how I was going to spend it.

It was something like what Budd says to Elle – now that your enemy is dead, which is the greatest ‘R’ you feel, relief or regret? People who have a job tend to live longer. Now that your enemy is dead, what are you going to do?

At the dinner table a couple of days back, I said I’d have been better off in Arts rather than in the field of Science, to which Dad said – don’t say that; science always helps you develop as a person. Now you have your whole life to do what you want to do.

But I am not sure if I am happy about the fact, or not.

In fact I am not sure about what I feel about it at all!

I have always wanted to do a lot of things – learn to play the piano, take dance lessons, know how to read people’s handwriting, go on a holiday, travel, write, work on my photography skills. But I never did them saying I didn’t have time. And now that time is here, I don’t know how I feel about spending it on doing each of these things… cos I was brought up to believe that these things can be done at any point in life, now is the time to make your life, to make a career, to make somebody of yourself. But isn’t now also the time to do insane stuff with friends, act crazy, have a booze party, fall in and out and in love again, keep secrets, keep promises…?

I sometimes look back and feel like all I have done in the past five years is earn two degrees and get a distinction. I know the statement is largely not true, but it also is true to some degree. Where has been the time to even meet friends, forget doing stuff together?

Life, time, moments – they always pass you by. And you can’t expect things to slow down just because you are too busy. But what you can do is not let life ALWAYS pass you by. Spend time with yourself, spend time with your friends, spend money on yourself, pamper yourself, and get yourself that ridiculously expensive watch or dress if you really want it!

Sometimes we only have to shift by a few degrees to understand and enjoy what’s been served to us better – after all tequila sucks without lemon!