Shadows of Mine

Flexible thy form, depth thy beauty
A beauty unseen, elusive thine very existence
Grievances of the past, fright for failure of tomorrow
A mirror to our pain
Greater our sorrow, greater thine form
Every tear shed pushes you further into the dark alley
As though you had a purpose
Our sole companion for that walk
Extending thine arms to fold us into
Never to leave us alone
Walking one pace behind to guard all evil
Yet not forgetting all other ends
Contented, you slowly merge into me
For the night is over, and the sun is rising
Helping me face the light boldly
Joining me in the dance of merriment and happiness
But slowly the music shall fade
And we shall walk alone again
Walking with music in our hearts
The music of life that shall never fade.

I am an outcast from the entire ‘community’ system, not by choice but by default. To be more accurate, I don’t really have a community setup around me to be a part of it. I am not religious; hence I do not take part in any of the customs, which by default of birth everybody else does. Except in my case my parents figured all the mayhem around them was due to religions, or more accurately community clashes. Twenty years down the line, the situation remains the same and I understand their point of view, through their progenies they wanted to see a new breed come into existence wherein their only creed would be derived from love of the human race. Thus I don’t have a surname.

So I used to be in the North of India as a child, to be precise till I was about 9 years old. My dad being in a government service has to cope with transfers, and so I landed up leading the next 8 years in Chennai- down south. I lost contact with my relatives, I lost fluency with Punjabi (when I left the north I had still been in the stage where I was only picking up the language) and became an alien to my own family. I used to believe Nathanpur (my maternal grandparents home) to be my home, no matter where I went I always came back to it. It was a huge Haveli, sort of like a fortress, with innumerable number of rooms, many lavishly decorated, with servants all around, sort of like a palace almost. There was a water tank within it that functioned as a swimming pool for all of us,leading onto the servant quarters. Huge spaces, three families within. Winters would find everyone out on charpai’s (beds- made of ropes tied together, supported by a wooden frame) basking in the warmth of the sun. Two huge dogs. In the summers Darji (my grand father) would get swings tied up in the veranda’s, I would always go behind him asking for khati meethi goli’s (as i grew up i learnt these to be vitamins!) and he would always call me his Beeba Putar (beloved son – it's a habit of sardar’s to refer to their children using the male gender). This whole haveli was surrounded by sugarcane fields, all owned by my Darji. A ten minute walk through the fields took us to the orchard, that’s the point my mama used to always turn back from.

I went there twice during my Chennai stay. I could not go when Darji passed away, was having my boards exams if I remember correctly. Went back two years ago, I couldn’t even recognise it. The old mud road had been replaced by the regular roads characteristic of our towns and cities- tar, not too smooth, not too rough, tar. As far my sight could go, there were square shaped brick houses. Bricks and tar. No sugarcane fields, no orchards, no Darji. Family feuds, natural occurrence when rich brats, who’ve never had to really work, get a chance at getting more money. More walls. The brothers sold everything, the haveli remains. There’s a highway being built right next to it, people will be able to access Dehradun so much more easily now…they call it development- more tar in place of absolute heaven. I sat at the same window sill where I used to sit and watch the bullock carts roll by as mum and my Beeji (grandmom) chatted in the kitchen…only this time I had turned away my face from the family because they were expressing their happiness at having disposed off all of the fields. That’s when I realized that this place never was mine to have taken the liberty of considering this as my home. All because my mom had been a daughter and not a son in the family, wonder if the reverse would have made any difference.


I never belonged in Chennai. The contrast between the south and the north of India is tremendous, almost like two different countries. Came back, loved to hear people speak in Hindi, loved to hear the little boys with their dholkies (drums) come and play inside the busses, loved to finally understand the comments boys made when they were ‘line marofying’ – everything will change but the breed of road side Romeos will never perish!

We don’t celebrate any festival. All days are the same for us. Remember we’re not religious, and considering all festivals being a by-product of religions, there is no time of the year when we really celebrate. I came to north, looking for a home; only to realize that there was no such thing as home, no such community that I really belong to.

So here I am, my only religion being work. My dad worked right through the week, so that is all I know that one has to do in life. Nothing else really matters. And so I live my life.

Started writing this because today there was a kirtan being organised by my masi (mum’s sister) as it is Darji’s death anniversary today. I couldn’t go for it as at the last moment we were called in by the college for sessions to prepare us for the upcoming placements. I thought I would still make it in time, missed mama by like 15 minutes. Felt so terrible. I've just never been there for you Darji...don’t know Punjabi, cut my hair, sat and watched as the world you made was molested and torn away. Just the same, I hope you knew I always loved you; I always wanted to talk to you more, to know you better…

So forgive me as I don’t know how to play this game, I don’t know its rules, n I'm through getting bruised… I'm not the only fish in this pond anyways, eh? Why don’t you go play while I make up my own little games in my warped little head. Call me cold or be nicer and call me queer. Come say hi and talk to me, but don’t make your moves, and take me to be retard if I pick up the cards when I'm expected to roll the dice. No, and don’t play the same game at the same time with me and my best friend- it's absolutely outrageous, or maybe I've understood the rules all wrong again?

Just when I made up my mind that it's ok to be me, who’re you to come from nowhere and instruct me to grow up. No I will not be a grown up – if that word implies that I will have to smile when you crack a stupid joke, and not when the wind blows on my face. And how many of you will keep coming to scrutinize me, judge me, and then turn away when you find a prettier version of my sex pass by you.

So no I will not play. So please I beg you and all the other fellas who damn well will keep following to leave me alone, and not make me feel like a nincompoop. I have no respect for these games, so anyone who does really want to know me, then go ahead and find out and not rely on tried and trusted methods. Though if you’ll follow my advice, then it really is best to allow me to live in my world, and just let me be.

Why can’t I just move on?
Why don’t I just stop thinking about you?
Or caring for you.
Why does the smile peeping out at me tell me a story,
But the same bent head, tell me another completely different tale?
And why O why do I not stop wishing that you’d stay and talk for a while

Could you really never tell that I was falling…falling real deep

Why do I care so I much
Why does my day start by looking out for you,
And end completely dependant on the mood you carried with you, as you perhaps decided to stop and say hi.

Did I really never mean anything at all?
If I hadn’t called you all that time, would you have called?
Or maybe have given me at least a missed call?
Or did you tolerate me for hours just because you’re a flirt- as the world incessantly continues to point out to me
Or perhaps you did like me, just a bit?

Do you ever stop and remember a girl who unwittingly began to adore you
Who listened to her friends for the very first time
And allowed herself to Fall.

Since i am in the mood for poetry, here's one i wrote a long time ago...found it while i was looking through my good 'ol diary this evening

Let them fall
Its alright to be weak my heart cried
A bond so strong
Couldn't be broken by a few miles
Friendships like ours,
Never flicker away like the shadows of our past
If only, i could fight the phantoms of today with you.

As distance begins to seperate us,
My heart screams out to turn around.
Tears falling into the wind,
I feel the passion of the sea for one last time

With my heart subdued, the tears subside
You know my dragon i'm always there
I have grown, and so have you
And there's much more the future has in store for us
We must fight our battles seperately, but never alone
For i leave the sea behind
but the passions of the wind with songs of our memories
Leave me not for a moment
I'm there with you, just as you're here with me
And together we'l weave our dreams into the currents of our lives...

i don't like titles...

“It is not true that one writes for oneself. That would be the worst frustration…the operation of writing implies that of reading as its dialectical correlative and these two connected acts necessitate two distinct agents…
there is no art except for and by others.”
- Sartre

...Cheers to blogging!

Cruising along...

Hey there blog world. Trust your day was less boring than mine :) the best part of my day was the ride home from college- as it usually always is. My surd pal drives like a mad man and after two years of hitching rides with him I've come to trust his driving 101%, in spite of how scared everybody else maybe of his driving. My campus this year is really far away from main Delhi, far away from anything that even vaguely smells of Delhi. The road takes us down to this beautiful stretch lined with trees and fields, and monkeys’ sun bathing in the middle of the road. It's the smell of the fresh air, the pink trees within this little plot of land that I always look for on the way. They’re absolutely ravishing. Pink trees :) - what possibly could appeal more to any girl! Or well any girl who likes trees as much as I do – because I'm sure there will be many who’ll immediately start listing out how the pink top they saw at Mango would score above any pink coloured tree or even their pointy beige coloured shoes are o so much cooler (I like calling those Arabian Night shoes :) - though one of my friends had revolted quite strongly at the concept of calling all her pointy shoes by that name- according to her there’s some name for them - I can’t quite recall it though:( )

Where was I? Right, the long winding road that promises so much more ahead as it keeps throwing little surprises right through. And there’s a part that takes us near this beautiful cliff surrounded with trees- makes me want to jump off the car and go trekking in there! But my friends don’t want to go and won’t let me go by myself either (it's a pity it's not a safe world, it's a pity we’re so close yet so damnably far from well actually so many great things in life!)

And as my pal drives along, there’s another sitting by me seemingly stuck to her phone, and another telling us of how great his Durga Pooja festivities had been. Until another crazy pal of mine caught upto us and the unbeatable spirit of my surd pal makes him floor the accelerator with all his might and both the cars (it's an empty stretch- don’t worry :D) race along until the first gal in one of the cars finally lets out a scream! To which of course the boys immediately obey! It's ridiculous how much guys can actually care about the whining of us girls! It's seriously adorable the way guys stop themselves from swearing or acting like little scamps when they’re around girls. Seriously adorable!

Yep and as my pal blasts the music, and the wind throws up all the dust on my face, it's definitely one of my favourite ways too unwind :)

blog blog bloggin.. :p

Hiya there! Roger I am officially blogging! Lol – heck – I still think its funny. I wonder how long I’ll continue with this. Today is a nice quiet Sunday – perfect Sunday actually. Off late I'd been having classes on Sundays. How horrible is that huh? Its like I convince myself that it doesn’t matter which day it is – so if its Monday or Sunday it doesn’t really matter – work work work – like its all that matters. I don’t think I believe that totally but hey when you take such screwed up steps in your life like getting into colleges that well aren’t recognised by the government there’s never enough that you can possibly do. Warped I tell you. That’s what I am. I used to live in Chennai and well I was bored sick of that place so I said lets move! Yea somehow convinced all my family – my ma wasn’t too much of a Chennai lover so convincing wasn’t too tough. I wanted something totally different and new which is why I chose IIPM. Frankly it was like a breath of fresh air and well apart from the few technicalities (like I just mentioned) it’s been all I ever wanted it to be. Its quite unique in fact – in 3 years I finish my BBA as well as MBA – now if that ain’t like winning a lottery ticket! No but seriously it's amazing how someone used to kicking ass can well do it anywhere and with whosoever! Like first we’re this bunch of kid’s outta school and well we hang out at the dhaba (these roadside food joints that North India would be so incomplete without). This college is right next to this forest, where I bullied my friends to go trekking into. We spotted Neil guys (is that how u spell it??) and peacocks and pretty birdies whose names I dunno! And in the winters just sitting underneath the trees slowly sipping at coffee while u continue to passive smoke as usual… awesome :)

So I was talking about kicking ass… from the second year onwards we are all split into groups of 5-10 and joined up with classes where students have joined up IIPM for doing their MBA. Initially it's like a being hit by a lightning or something! But slowly it begins to sink in. You realize that people around you have finished their graduation, some of them a couple of years ago, some of them have worked for a couple of years… yep and here you are fighting hand and foot with this formidable bunch of guys! But like I said people used to kicking ass will do so wherever and with whosoever! I managed pretty well, and so did my friends. It's like the spirit within you that refuses to be left behind because of some statistical differences. Because in the end it is just statistics- or well so it has been for me. But the point where these statistics are going to really affect me is during placements – people aren’t ready for such unconventional methods. People will revolt at the idea that such a course can actually be a jumpstart to a kid’s career. Colleges are something sacred – the intellectuals have spent years in there and they would be repulsed towards a course that sort of jeers at their own years spent in colleges. It's a tough battle IIPM has set itself for, and for which we soldiers have signed ourselves for.

During one of my sessions with my assigned mentor Prashanto sir, he told me that someone like me shouldn’t really worry about not getting a good job. He was like if you don’t get a job with a 17+ packet come back and tell me because I really don’t think that’s possible. That’s a comforting thought. Prashanto sir is someone who kind of made me believe that I was in the right place- a Professor like that wouldn’t be in a college that wasn’t great. He’s responsible for me catching the media bug. My sister used to always tell me to go for it, but I never took it really seriously. And lots of other times people have told me to go vj and stuff, but when Prashanto sir told me very seriously that he sees me more as Barkha Dutt (an NDTV news anchor), I really got thinking. And the more I think about it, the more I wonder why I never thought about it before!

Yes but like all screwed up things in life, there’s just one little bugger in the middle of this o so fascinating idea that I so want to pursue. Turns out I took a loan for the course I'm doing right now. To repay it, I will easily have to continue in this line (Marketing) for like 2 years… fun ha! Yep so lets see which way I allow the tide to pull me….

C ya soon :)

hi

umm...this sounds crazy to me. trust my pal priyanka to introduce me to something like this. so why create a blog? im going to treat it like my new digitalised diary :) so even if there's a fire my diary will be safe! i remember reading a blog once - came across it - somehow - really dont rememeber how.... i was just as confused then. yea well then thats me - confused!

so people are gonna read my raving and ranting - funny. na - i guess by now the ppl who do land up till here would have already run away :)

ok im going - i dont know if ill get used to this - but for now im all sleepy so ill go figure this tommorrow.

bbye!