Category: Scribble

As the night burns itself up in the darkness to mark the illumination of a new day, my sleep wanders off in an off limits territory. I don’t know what triggered it into this sudden journey to the netherworld. I do have an inkling, as its not the lack of options that has puzzled me to my wit’s end. At least to my sleep’s end..

Why we fall in love: A pretty psychological reasoning based article which extensively explains the reason why a person falls in love. I must say the thinking behind the article is pretty articulate and horrifyingly accurate. And that makes me wonder. Is that all to the charisma and mystery of the emotion love? A feeling so strong that has been driving people to different paths for so long. The feeling which orchestrates the melodies for a musician, sagas for a writer, masterpiece for an artist, all in the form of aspiration, an unquenchable thirst. Is it just the fact that these people were different elementally and hence the emotion tapped them in a different way?

Who cares about those rarities anyway. What about us? Are we just exposed to this never ending, never altering phenomenon of finding what we deem missing in ourselves in the form of individuals and fall for them? Should it be a ray of hope for the people yet to find their missing piece, that it’s not about the missing magic in them which has deprived them of their counterpart?

Should it be alarming for the young hearts in love that the warm fuzzy feeling deep in their stomach is nothing but the reaction to the perception of the brain that the the other person is the missing piece of the jigsaw puzzle, you. Just perception.

Sounds depressing? Knowledge is supposed to be. It doesn’t amaze me even a single bit that the people who are highly knowledgeable or learned often turn out to be pretty low on emotional quotient. And why won’t it be? Knowledge gives person access to past and present, the answers to what, how and why. Using it to decipher the codes of the situations lying ahead in the future doesn’t seem far fetched at all. Isn’t it the so called “advanced version” of taking decisions while relying on experience? Like blowing the surface of a beverage off before taking the first sip just because of burnt lips in the past.

The only difference between knowledge and experience is that the knowledge, though abundant, doesn’t provide experience. Whereas the experience always provides you knowledge. And here I try to sum up the raging thoughts in my mind. Would you rather trust the knowledge about love, as an dissected emotion, to search for the missing half? Like the 80-90% match technology refers to. Or you trust your prior experience, your instincts, without giving the definitive outline or specified constraints to the person you are searching for. I agree that to conduct a search, parameters are required. But who decides if the parameters we chose, or anybody chose are the correct one for them?

I don’t say I support the ancient approach. But at least it gives you something, an aspiration, maybe.

I am among “the ancients” for now. Accumulated far too much experience and the stupid count just keeps on increasing. I wonder what I’ll do with this much experience and derived knowledge. I even feel inclined to embrace the dis-sectioned version of the emotion. Spares you the emotional trauma you suffer each time your heart splits into shards. But then I think, at least this gives you something to blog about.

Why We Fall in Love: The Paradoxical Psychology of Romance and Why Frustration Is Necessary for Satisfaction

—-X—-

Soft bed, warmth of a quilt and a rosy winter morning is a combination which has taken out many giants. Sleep had bowed and went back quite long ago, just lingering lethargy remains in the bed with Aalekh.

What would a man do in such a condition, hanging midway between consciousness and coziness? Any ideal one would just stick out a leg from the quilt, out of sheer curiosity, to support his motion of choosing coziness over consciousness. It was strange though! There was no difference; it felt as if the heater was on already. So comfortable.. so thoughtful.. so caring..??

That’s when it flickered in his brain that probably he wasn’t alone this morning. Suddenly, his ears caught some clattering noises, faint but clear, just outside the room, and surge of alertness jolted his brains. He smiled coyly to himself and decided to pretend to be still asleep, burying his face inside the quilt, along with the entire body. It looked like a roughly made bed with just a messy quilt lying on it.

The cluttering noises rang alarmingly with an increasing volume. Before he could think of a reaction to it, the sudden exposure to the sunlight due to removal of the quilt startled him, and a voice broke out, “Rise and Shine!”

Aah! It was music to his ears! Aalekh grinned and turned towards the voice.

Damn sunlight! Too bright! He squinted his eyes and heard a giggle. “Seems like the decision to bring breakfast over to bed was a good one after-all.”

After one too many blinks, the eyes adjusted and the breakfast broke his line of sight.

“Waf af fu fuin ferfo fuly?” uttered Aalekh, with mouthful of eggs, which was immediately hushed down. “Swallow before you speak atleast!” the voice complained while sounding distant. “What are you doing here so early?” he asked, this time being clearer while chugging milk down. The voice answered from the next room in a complaining tone, “You forgot we have a date?”

O yeah! It’s the date! “Do you seriously think I would forget our date?” he cursed his memory as he tried to mock it up and sweep it under the rug, while rolling up in the quilt again.

“Yeah I do. And that’s why I came here so early.” The voice was now whispering in his ear.

He rolled to face the voice and saw Sia cuddling up next to him. “Just 2 more minutes please!” Aalekh requested her, resting his chin on her head.

“Take 10..” and Sia entered the quilt.

—-X—-

I don’t know where to start it all from. 12 years have been passed. I’ve always thought of this time out of the blues in these past years, and each time, have laughed it off. It never felt near, always a distant possibility. Lying myself each time that plenty of time is in our hands. And now…

I still remember how hard it was to convince Maa and Papa to bring you home. “Who will take care of him?” was always a deal-breaker. You can’t easily convince your parents when you are fourteen. Luckily for me, one day they did get convince. Though to be very honest, we thought we will bring you in as little as they come, “eyes not opened yet”. So you can imagine our surprise when we found you pretty large and as old as 2-3 months when we first saw you. Boy, you grew fast! And well I loved you the first time I saw you. I don’t remember when I laughed harder, the time when you slurped up all the milk given in the first go, like you’ve been hungry for an eternity, or the moment when Papa approved you, given the look of disbelief in Maa’s eyes after seeing your single frame body.

I was the happiest fourteen years old in town that day. And have been the happiest chap in my age category since then.

Many people have asked me across the time, who’s my best friend. My answer’s always been you. One who never revealed my secrets always heard my random rantings with patience, always was there for me during my lows without a single sigh. You never bailed on me and have always allowed me to sleep on you. You never shook hands, never brought the ball back, but instead ran away with the ball wanting me to chase you and then ended up puncturing the ball. Even the fully bloated basketball!

I’ve never seen someone as graceful, as casually cheeky, as dumb, as cute as you.

Each time when you were unwell due to one reason or the other, it just made me realize how crucial your existence has turned out to be for me, for us. And now when you are going to sleep on for too long..

It’s unfair. I asked you to be all fit and fine the next time we meet. You are not keeping our promise. I know its selfish for me asking you to even breathe but… You know how my relationship with God is. I rarely pray. And it’s always the same routine of thanking for everything and asking for guidance. Last time I asked Him to heal you. To make you healthy even if the cost was something I would bear. It’s stupid, but I have been eager to hear your dramatic recovery since my leg got twisted. It was one thing not hearing to me when I asked Him to help me score good marks in exams, but this? Why would you go so far to prove that dumb story right that dogs take any harm meant for their masters on themselves? Couldn’t you just let it be just the opposite for once?

I wish you could read it and understand it that you are and always will be one of the most precious things in my life. And not being able to do anything for you, the feeling of helplessness can’t be measured and quantified in terms of physical pain. I know it was I who made the initial suggestion of relieving you of the pain you are going through all along. Because I saw you that it wasn’t just the body, it was your self-esteem that shattered during this period. It might sound funny to many people around, but I understood you when you stood outside in the rain but refused to take help to climb the stairs back inside. But now my resolution has dissolved. Just eat all the cabbage you want.. even eggs too… but don’t leave… Just get well overnight… You have taught me things which I never thought you even knew. Please teach me one last thing. Please teach me that miracles do happen…

I know how much you love to run away just because you want me to chase you. Just don’t go so far that I won’t be able to.

———-

I know I have been selfish above, but the kid that grinned like a fool when he brought you home 12 years ago at least deserves to speak his heart. You’ve been the best friend I needed till now. Finally, it’s my turn to be the one for you. I might never be able to forgive myself for not being able to be there with you tomorrow but will try to remind myself that it gave you the freedom you always deserved.

I just wish you could speak and tell me it is the right decision.

He checked his mobile. Stared at the blinking “11:40 P.M” at the lock screen and flipped it aside.

“Seriously??” he sighed and brought his head resting on his knees.

He knew they weren’t talking. Was not told why but didn’t mind. He knew it was coming. If she wouldn’t have done it, maybe at some point he himself would have taken similar step. This acceptance was a silent nod to her decision, which could have easily been his. It’s been not so long though. B’days have always been overrated. He was not that much into celebrating. But he did hope for the call. He had a chat with his bestie the other night. Told him about this inkling of his. This premonition of a ruined day ahead. And his bestie didn’t leave a stone unturned to prove him wrong. Nor his other friends. But heart wants what it wants.

He tried the laptop this time. “11:42 P.M” popped up at the bottom right corner of the screen.

He couldn’t help but curse under his breath. “Damn it! Why the time is running so slow? Why isn’t it past 12 already?” He was fed up of waiting for the call or a message anywhere across hundreds of platforms humans have invented to connect with each other. It’s silly how this increase in number, just strengthens the unnecessary voice of optimism inside a rationally sound man. As if optimism needs any support. Hopeless optimism in itself is a viral disaster. He was trying to curb it with the shots of realism. Practicality. And with the passing time, he felt it under control. He now just wished the time to pass, so that he could move to the next phase pass 12, of blocking his brain for a bit.

He reached for his mobile again to check time. It rang.

The name was not the one his eyes have been waiting for day long. It was his *bestie.

“Haan bol.” he picked up his mobile and answered trying not to sound disappointed. “Kuch nahi yaar. Socha last me bhi mai hi wish karu.” came an elated voice from the other end. Its been years since he wished him first. It does sound childish, but people do care who wished them first. And please, sometimes try to fix it up too..

He smiled. Happiness could be infectious too. “Go Ahead.”

“Wait, there’s someone else on the line”, and the voice changed into a female one. “Hello..”

His heart skipped a beat. “It’s her!” His mind screamed with ecstasy. “She did call! So they planned it up. Idiots! I had this feeling that something’s fishy!” It didn’t even last a second. Suddenly his excitement turned into anger. Not calling for so long and pulling a stunt like this, when he has been waiting all day! He cut the call.

His mobile screen flashed the name of his bestie 8 times in the next 15 odd minutes. He sat there looking at the watch waiting eagerly for the hands to walk past 12. He promised himself that after pulling such a stunt he won’t allow her the satisfaction of the succession of her plan. He won’t allow her to wish him before 12. Childish.

And the clock struck 12. The mobile rang again. It was time. He picked it up.

“Hello? Why did you cut the phone?” came a surprised voice from the other end. “I didn’t. Network error maybe.”

“And why didn’t you answer the next 8 times I called?” questioned his *bestie. “Umm.. I think it didn’t connect.”

“And it did automatically past 12?” the voice at the other sounded a bit angry which suddenly changed into surprise. “Whom did you think the other voice was?”

This question suddenly alarmed him. “Whom?”

“Don’t tell me! You ended the call after you heard the girl saying hello. It wan’t her you idiot! She was my colleague.”

He reached for words and found empty air coming out from his mouth. His lips were not making any sensible shapes now. The voice of his *bestie woke him up. “You managed to make your premonitions true.”

“Sorry yaar. Bring your colleague on the conference please.” he replied while deciding what story to spin. He had a nice conversation with her, apologising for the disconnection and thanking for her belated wishes. He said good night to his *bestie, who asked him to take care.

His room was filled with absolute silence. Eerie atmosphere. He never self pitied, but what happened a few minutes ago made him not only pity himself, but he could swear that he heard something breaking inside him. Like the shattering of a glass. He described the incident as the gut wrenching punch, twisted till the end.

He lied down on his bed staring at the ceiling. Few minutes later, his eyes were still focused on the ceiling but his mind had wandered down to her. He could see himself standing outside the window to her room, trying to peek in just to find, was it that easy for her to say nothing? He could see her sitting on her bed, face down with head rested on her knees. Couldn’t figure out how she felt.

He had two options. Either to think she did it purposefully and it didn’t bother her. Or that she did it purposefully and was as hurt as he was. He made his choice and closed his eyes.

Want to know what choice he made?

It changes every night.

Whatever makes it easier for him to sleep.

*bestie = Best Friend

Attraction cannot be tied.. and it is nothing but the initial stage of love. There is always a possibility of it blooming to the next stage, or withering down to a shriveled carcass. Sometimes it is forced into a Bonsai. I think I read Late Dev Anand, not the exact words, but the gist was on the same line. That love can happen anytime. No matter when, no matter who, and no matter how long. Some people would never forget that one stranger they met and talked to, at the bus stop for a few seconds. It is love. Some people live their entire lives with a person. That’s love too. It is us who define and restrict it. Who taboo it and mask it as acceptable and anti-social. I’ve seen many people around me. Afraid of love, drowned in love, found in love, lost in love, lost love.

How does a person decide which love to embrace and which love to let pass by? Which love to live with till eternity and which love to remember till eternity. It’s too simple. You can’t. It’s always about that leap of faith. Are you willing to jump? Because you will definitely get injured. You never come out unscathed. But will it be worth it?

An artist always requires a muse. It’s his source of inspiration. Something to keep him ticking. More powerful the muse is, the wilder the creativity turns out to be. Sometimes you just need to accept what life offers you. Cause it doesn’t necessarily give you lemons. Sometimes it offers mango. I’ve decided to grab it. What about you?