“Oh, how I wish each arrow out of my quiver
pierces through the wind,
sliding by the raindrops,
pins its target down on their knee.
Alas! the armor they wear
on their hearts this winter, is too thick”,
sighed Cupid.
Tag: love
-
STILL TEACHING
“Till the time didi was here, this tree used to be laden with guavas, and now not even a single one could be seen.”, Kaija remarked while looking at the guava branch above her, which was filled with leaves and flowers, but not a single fruit. In Kumaooni language, Kaija is used to address your mother’s sister. But for us she was Kaija, like she was for our mother.
Upon hearing her, my mind was suddenly flooded with Naniji’s memories. As those nostalgic feelings welled inside me, my head tilted towards the guava tree, which was now in full view. For a moment, I could picture her underneath the tree, trying to pluck guavas for us.
I walked to the spot where I just imagined her and looked up towards the tree again. Suddenly my eyes could spot a guava, as green as the leaves but a guava nonetheless, hanging where I saw her plucking the fruits from. Before I could break this news to Kaija, my eyes spotted two tiny guavas on another branch, which just budded maybe a few days ago. At the other end, I saw a fully grown and ripe guava, waiting to be eaten.
A smile broke out as I plucked it and murmered, “Needed just a change of perspective. Still teaching me things..”
-
“याद तो तुम्हें मेरी आती ही होगी” – Poem
झुठलाना मत
याद तो तुम्हें मेरी आती ही होगी।घाट की आड़ में जब चाँद चुप छुपता रहा,
तारों की चादर से लिपटी नींद भी जाती रही,
तुम थीं, मैं था, रात थी खामोशी के संग साथ में,
लफ़्ज़ों का क्या काम था जब सांसों के संग सांस थी।कदमों का रुख उस डगर हो
जब टिमटिमाती रात में,
झुठलाना मत
याद तो तुम्हें मेरी आती ही होगी।वो समंदर का किनारा रेत के टीले तले,
और तुम्हारी अंगड़ाइयाँ उस तपन की छाँव में,
शाम का मंजर सुहाना, रात बारिश की हुई,
हम वहीं के रह गए वहीं, तेरे तकिये के सिरे।गर कभी सपनों में अचानक
फिर मेरा दीदार हो,
झुठलाना मत
याद तो तुम्हें मेरी आती ही होगी।कहने को छोटी उमर थी इस सफर की पर मगर
दम उड़ानों की नीयत में वक्त से आगे की थी,
ज़िंदा है अब भी चिंगारी, फिर भले ही खुद जले
आग अब भी है कि जलता ज़िन्दगी भर दिल रहे।तुमसे शुबहा ना शिकायत
मैं ही ज़िम्मेदार हूँ,
मगर झुठलाना मत
याद तो तुम्हें मेरी आती ही होगी।लिखने का कुछ शौक सा था, कुछ अनकही अनसुनी,
अब है लत, ये हाथ स्याही की तलब के मारे हैं,
रोज़ का इनका मचलना, रोज़ उपज एक नज़्म की
ना मायने अदब-ओ-ज़बान के, हर किस्से कहानी तुम्हारे हैं।माना तुम हो दूर इतनी
मुझसे कोई नाता नहीं,
झुठला दो फिर भी इस झूठ को
क्योंकि याद तो तुम्हें मेरी आती ही होगी। -
LITTLE THREADS OF SEPARATION
SEPARATION – (noun) the action or state of moving or being moved apart.
That is how the dictionary defines the word. But the beauty of it is what meaning it holds, even without a particular context. There itself lies the irony of it. A detailed discussion with a friend today suddenly made me realize the importance this word has held in my life. It has been a great teacher. That is why I treat both, the teacher and its teachings with reverence.
Love, is like a fabric. Not a silk one, that’s just how you picture it. In reality, it is a fabric with the irregular texture, comprising of patches and holes. Some area of it seems worn out and the other feels quite new. Sometimes the fabric feels like a second skin, whereas at other times you realise that it just doesn’t fit your taste.
Separation, thus can be compared with the cut placed on the bundle of this fabric you own, each time a piece is taken out of our life.
My grandmother passed away when I was 14. I remember clearly, how my brain simply found itself unable to process the reality. I still feel that this statement lacks the ability to justify the depth of my inability to get in terms with it. Your parents always love you and have faith in you, same as mine. But Naani was a person who made me feel that there was a hidden power inside me, something about which I am still not aware of. In her eyes, I was the epitome of a good human being, brimming with possibilities. Even today, whenever I face a situation which leaves me clueless and raises questions at myself, the memory of my reflection in her eyes gives me an immense boost of confidence. It makes me believe, that I’ll definitely be able to come up with something somehow.
My love towards her was the piece of fabric that had been cut a long time ago. Strangely, the cut was so clean that by the time I could comprehend her loss, the separated piece had already woven itself with my conscience in the form of an unlimited reserve of confidence based on her belief in me.
But the transition is not so smooth each time. Not every piece of the fabric called love is cut with such finesse. On the contrary, most of the cuts just refuse to be neat. The struggle through which the pieces go when cut off, is clearly visible, not only on them but on the entire bundle itself. At times, the fabric is unwillingly torn apart into these pieces by others. In any case, what we end up with is a tattered piece of fabric, giving away loose threads from its edges. Unrequited love, unfulfilled love, incomplete love, failed love, these all are samples of the above-mentioned tattered piece. They are the ones which deteriorate over time, as the threads of the separation loosen up and disintegrate the fabric each time it is used, be it in as a memory, or a reference.
However, these odd pieces, putting their threads of separation at the display, are the ones which have also taught me about the importance of the two key things. Acceptance and Closure. I cannot dare say that I have come even close to embrace either of these. But yes, I do accept the fact that they are the key to put the odd pieces into better use. Maybe weave them together to create something new altogether. A blanket of love, ending up the way love is, imperfect. A reminder of all the components that have been involved in the making of it. Maybe that will aid in finding a continuous piece of fabric that is constantly being used and doesn’t need to cut till eternity. Or it will just teach us how to cut it cleaner; cuts after cuts after cuts.
Hence, Acceptance and Closure themselves are the sewing machine to stitch close the loose ends of the tattered piece of the fabric. They give a final definition to your complex feelings. They try to even out the torn edges, give it a seam maybe, to preserve them as a standalone memory. So you end up with the ability to recollect the old and once familiar warmth of the fabric, without the baggage. I just wish if the world was so ideal.
These machines are quite costly. And no, you cannot just throw money to own them. The currency they deal in involves a combination of patience, empathy and most importantly, love. Sometimes they ask for self love, whereas in other cases, just the respect towards the love which once existed, irrespective of the presence or absence of its traces around. People who can shell out this cost with the blink of an eye can be deemed uber rich, marking less than 0.01% of the total human population. Normal people like us take our time, first to assess if the machines are worth it, because it will take a lot of time emotionally to collect the droplets of all three for it. Then some more, to actually go through the process.
The sadly honest part is, majority of us decide against it. We decide to get rid of the piece itself. Why bother spending so much? Why put so much efforts to save something which is no longer a part of you? Let it rot or wither away and get lost in the passage of time. Even better if you could shove the piece of fabric in the other person’s throat and let them choke on it. Ain’t it convenient to blame others for what went down? “Chuck it and move forward” ranks in as the second best option. However I feel if you could go through the second option, we might not be talking about the same fabric altogether.
Another lesson I have learned from separation is the beauty of a relationship. I learned to see it and appreciate it. Separation does that to you. You learn to understand the intricacies of a close knit relationship, and to respect it for what it is. I know that the word relationship in itself restricts the imagination to a limited examples in your life, but look wider. The truest essence of what an ideal separation is, could be found in your childhood memories.
Your best friend when you were 6, do you have any clue where they are or what are they doing now?
If yes, are you still in contact, in touch anyhow?
Yes again?
Then are they still your best friend?
It’s most probably a no.
Did you forget the person?
No.
The memories you had with them?
As clear as they come.
What happens when you tap into them?
You end up feeling warm, nostalgic. You are completely aware of the fact that these days will not come again. Maybe you would like to revisit them together someday. But you don’t bet on it. You accept them for what they were, what they meant to you then and now, acknowledging their place and importance in your life.That’s how separation should ideally be. But we don’t live in a perfect world. I hardly think that the separations you will go through would end up even close. However, as the lines of one my all time favourite song goes –
You’d have to walk a thousand miles
In my shoes, just to see
What it’d be like, to be me
I’ll be you, let’s trade shoes
Just to see what I’d be like to
Feel your pain, you feel mine
Go inside each other’s mind
Just to see what we find
Look at shit through each other’s eyesBecause the most crucial thing which you must always remember is, the fabric called love gets cut in pairs. It’s never just about your bundle. These little threads of separation are possibly the only thing common left. Savour it.
-
THE BRUNCH
“What is your highest Flappy Bird score?” she asked while leaning over into the mobile screen.
“Ohho! just wait a minute! I am on it!” he evaded her without shifting his gaze from it.
“127!!?? Are you for real??” She sounded surprised, though it was hard to judge if she was being sarcastic. His head nodded in disappointment while he dumped the mobile on the sofa.
“Yeah, just 127… All thanks to you!” he grumbled as he moved towards the kitchen.
“Heyyy… What did I do? Stop blaming me for your failures!” she snapped back as she refused to move away from the sofa and settled herself comfortably instead.It was a beautiful, but chilly Friday morning. The sun was now visible over high towering buildings around the society. And living on the top floor of a multi-storied building in a society, makes it easier for you to have access to all the sunlight at the terrace for yourself.
As he cluttered through the kitchenware, to fix a snack from the last night’s leftovers, she suddenly whispered in his ears, “No maid today again?”
“Yeah, she had to go to the doctor’s.” he replied while focusing on the question, how he wanted the eggs. After a brief moment and sudden realization, he shot back, “You have off today! That’s why you are so chirpy in the morning!”
“I think it’s high time and you should remember by now that I have my Fridays off.” she smirked, following it with a fake sulky pout.She was completely ignored! His attention on the breakfast is worth the respect.
“I would have made you something, but then I thought we could have a brunch someplace. Let’s try out one from our list!” her voice was bursting with energy, and it made a solid attempt to grab his attention.
“You didn’t make me anything because I don’t drink tea, and that was your best bet!” he teased her while flipping the eggs. “But honestly, brunch sounds like a good idea. However, you do remember I have working Fridays??”His stare caught her hiding behind the sofa, from where she peeked over and answered, “I do!! But you can call in sick! I am going to the terrace. You take off today or I’ll take off!” she stuck out her tongue at him, and ran upstairs.
All he could do was smile and follow her, along with the breakfast.
Because breakfast is essential…—
As he sat beside her on the green, wet grass, she closed her eyes and leaned back to soak the sun in. The small rose garden at the terrace, with the sun, just strong enough to break through the morning winter chill, was a personal getaway. He could feel goosebumps all over his body, as the warmth eased him off and seeped into him. An occasional blow of wind turned it into a cycle. As soon as he kept his phone off after calling in sick, she turned towards him and stared blankly. He saw her giving that look to his plate, and then to him.
“Don’t give me that look! I’ll be fine for the brunch even with this breakfast.” he managed to speak while chewing on what was left of it. She smiled and closed her eyes again, facing towards the sun and breathed “It feels good here. Let’s just stay.”
He didn’t smile back. His eyes stared directly at the sun till they hurt, and then closed themselves.
“I felt something peculiar yesterday” he muttered as he sat there.
“I was riding motorcycle while returning from the office, and the speed was a bit high. My mind was jumbled up about something and suddenly it felt like the time has slowed down.
Like I could just give the accelerator full throttle and let the bike go on, till it crashes into something.
How would it feel? How would I feel if it crashed? Would the whole slow motion feeling would be gone in an instant? Maybe I’ll fly to a certain distant.
Floating in mid-air, slow motion.”She opened her eyes and stared at him. His eyes were still closed and the face was difficult to read. “Well, that’s dark.” she stated, remaining composed.
However, he pictured her looking at him with a somber expression, hence couldn’t help but smirk. “I know! But I felt pretty light at that moment. Anyhow, your company does affect you.” He commented sarcastically while enjoying the warmth of the sun on his eyelids. Just the spot!
“So, what was your mind jumbled in when this happened?” her voice entered his ears, echoing in the pitch-black darkness, with the orange hue. His sigh marked his awareness regarding the occurrence of this question.
As he opened his eyes, he found her looking at him without any traces of the chirpiness, which floated across her face a few moments before. She had an air of seriousness around her. His head turned up towards the cloudless sky, in a futile hope for the sun to be covered for a bit. So, he took a deep breath and replied, “I was thinking about us…”
She felt as if the anticipation she had, just got verified. She took her time to respond and began it with a sigh, “I thought I was pretty clear about it. And it seemed like you understood.”
The voice sounded firm as well as the tone. He looked at the empty plate kept besides him as he avoided looking at her. “I know. I still understand. But that doesn’t change the way I feel.”
Her voice turned into laughter, which assured sarcasm this time. She leaned forward to inspect a rose bud in the garden and softly spoke “It’s better if we don’t talk about feelings. I think we both are pretty clear about where each of us stands.” her voice trailed a bit, as she stood up and started walking towards the edge of the terrace.
He didn’t move a muscle and kept sitting on the grass. It was difficult to get through to her, and he knew he was at fault. “The feelings were imbalanced, and I hit the nail on its head.” he spoke softly, trying to weigh-in where to place the statement.
“You cheated. Don’t sugarcoat it.” she leaned at the edge, as if to check something, and turned back and questioned, “Since how long have you not washed your bike?”
He was feeling the goosebumps again. But there was no chilly wind to cause it. “It’s been a week… And you know I didn’t mean it. It was the booze.” he retorted back, although he knew it very well how lame the argument sounded.
“So, you tell? Do you get to get away?” she spoke as she again leaned over to see something that had caught her fancy downstairs.
“No. But I didn’t hide it, or lied.” his eyes were fixated at the grass, twisting and uprooting whatever he got his hands on.She turned around towards him, took a deep breath and sat down resting herself against the border of the terrace. “You do know I am not mad at you for it? We were in long distance relationship. We knew it could happen. We had discussed it earlier.”
He coldly smiled as he heard those words and his hands stopped. “Does it make me less guilty? Does that mean that I didn’t screw up? Does that mean things could go back to what they were?
No.”“But the chances of us surviving were anyhow…” she tried to interrupt.
“Were scarce, I agree! But I sabotaged it. I know it. I accept it. And I’ll have to live with it.” He completed himself assertively. She just sat there, silently, looking at him, without blinking her eyes. His hands were intertwined with each other as he dug a hole in the garden with his stare.
“Yeah, and that’s why you should eat more… Let’s go to the brunch!” She casually tried to change the topic and started to move downstairs.
“I am not a fool you know… Watching a movie alone is one thing. Eating alone at a restaurant is just plain sad. I’ll ask some friends first.” he muttered as he raised his head. He was unable to notice the trace of smile that ran across her face when she heard him. “So, you don’t need me after all! I am not even counted in as company!” she looked back at him wearing that smile.
“Had I not needed you, would you be here?” he questioned her as his eyes brimmed with emotions hard to describe.
“Don’t you think I could have been a bit taller and thinner?” she chuckled as she stood on the stairs sticking her tongue out at him again.Caught off-guard at this remark all of a sudden, a second later he burst into laughing.
They both laughed and the moment was perfect.
The place was perfect.
The time was perfect.
“Girl you are amazing, just the way you are!” he mocked singing as he stood up from the grass and carried the plates downstairs, behind her, fake dancing on the tune of it.
—
As he put up the dishes in the kitchen sink, the doorbell rang up. It was the maid. “Sorry bhaiyya for being late! The waiting line at the Doctor’s place was very long!”
“It’s fine Radha ji. As long as you inform me beforehand, it could be managed. Just skip the breakfast and lunch, take care of the rest.” he hurriedly replied as he took his jacket, helmet and the keys to his bike.
“Bhaiyya… Going somewhere?” the maid enquired as he reached the door.
“Yeah, I am going on brunch with her. You can do the preparations for dinner directly. I’ll be late.”
“On brunch with her?? With whom?” the maid asked in surprise. She saw around and only found him standing at the door.
He looked at the maid, and then at Her standing beside him, all set to go. “Umm… Nobody! Just my imagination! I am going to eat alone.” he smiled as he shut the door up on the perplexed maid.
Image Courtsey:
http://www.ramsheadtavern.com/Menus/2016/BRUUCHweb.jpg
ABSINRAW 