Friday, June 26, 2009

HATS OFF...........

Do you know how is it when u feel like you are sick , you need checkups, you are unwell, you need care , when to any other person you seem to be too fit & fine. They proclaim aloud, its just some grudges of yours , you inculcate & kindle & harp off,  thats gonna surely eat you out, if not any of the dreaded troubles and disease.........

Have you ever met a few of these people sometime?? if yes, then how did u felt?? Irritated? Concerned? Indifferent? Neglected it all too aware that its fake?? how ?? personally i had never tolerated any of such instances and had felt disgusted everytime till one day something changed my mind .completely.....unseremoniously .....and for ever.......

it had been so thoughtful of me to bring this diary else the wait for the doctor's call would have been to hard to take. Being a product of internet world i can never imagine a time like this .with no friends, no chats, no google, no snaps......but just a wait .long , slow, torturous......

i sat there wondering all aloud , keenly n patiently counting away d seconds as they go away how come it's standing still when every day i know i'm more and more less of it.. yet now its a rainy rainy bluey abundance as if entire world is done for and here am i meant to wait as if it'll never come to an end.

Doctor the word invokes a warmth and i swear no matter how many of them i've seen till now i'm yet to find a one unpatient --- loads of keen interest to whatever bla coming from patient and just by proper listening they do away half of the trouble , the uneasiness within the patient and no longer he's troubled – full faith that he's in right hand and will be safe – would be saved – would be addressed – if he ever believed in a supreme power , his faith is fully totally bestowed this godly figure – d doctor the one who will be his saviour when nobody bothers to even listen to them...........

i really wondered this sitting there and amused at the doctors ways and impressed. Forgot all the trouble sitting there....n just watched his multifaceted persona and strength to bear all this like a routine with a consistent smile and extreme care ....and felt no pain, no strain and was all too cheerful even after the long wait .


Saturday, June 20, 2009

Just for you – my friend ( a little bird chats to the one flying.........

I asked myself many times “why do I wanna talk to u??” and when I cant , feel devoid of the essence of life. N then I find that talking to you , I find my world so small, so fine, so pretty , so cute that before I get in a large world like yours I should savor the peace and calm of these moments, though devoid of any of the mega events you narrate about , yet the ease these behold is worth to cherish. No hurry for anything, infinite patience to watch even a leaf to turn and yet no regrets if it cudn't , a simple smile in each day and night is all I dwell in. find ample time to watch the spring , the marvel of wind and the sparkle of moons shine , get tuned to listen to each of nature's rhythm, the cuckoo's melody and sparrow's chirp , there's simply nothing I let get missed . Live ample moments each day to notice even a slight change the weather has turned or the surroundings have worn and tease every buddy seemingly in a hurry and make them smile before the routine takes there concerns away but few moments to laugh heartedly .
All these I never accepted myself but listening to you I acknowledge and become happy again . Till few days pass n all sense gets to evaporate and I strongly feel like talking to you and then as I chat with you I do get rejuvenated n so I thank god there's always someone who makes the world monotony out just by the bakbak n den having being with you wish nothing else- just this ease no big mountains but this beautiful moon;s view as I cherish my moments again.
U may ask why I don have anything much to say ever as its so small to you it wont ever matter but living it everyday and enjoying in it , I know the worth. Then there's something outside which feels missing here, something bigger n fun for which I ought to strive , though unknown its worldly advice to plunge yourself to get at it , heights unachieved n that makes me restless , all ease becomes a burden, all charm looses its fascination and again I wish u to be here to know whats that world I miss ,making me in perennial gloom . Then as u chitchat I realise I don't want any of those uncertain heights ,when more admirable things we can just chat to and I regain my lost self of joy and abundance and all imposed depravity gets astray. just to live up seems sheer joy of complete fantasy till a few more days, n again uncertainty get a grab on me and I find dark clouds behind each rain , a hurricane's approach for each shower of joy and go on thinking of improving , changing to get that imposed set height as a forever bliss till again u come , unaware sense dawns on me – its where I am thats heaven, with the best gift of god “ u as friend” . Then any end seemingly a little more better, a little bit safer ,seems all useless till i'm pinched in d clash of fancy n reality again and I turn back to you.....

To just listen n laugh with you every blemishes loose existence n I return back purer , joyous , happier to again serve the heaven i'm in n then there's only way of spreading joy , one choice to rejoice , and live the life as a gifted way.
I know a day may come we can never happen to meet , months and years may pass away , when even these moments slip existence from memory , just a wonder on something like that ever happened!!
whenever tired of flying high , I sit back and take rest chatting nonchalant and nonsense n then when I do recollect i'll smile that it was the best n a broad smile..........

Sitting alone as all fly I forever doubted on the notion of friends . Now I know its the best that you could have ever got and then having you as friend and chatting on n on , there's nothing else that can ever matter , the day I replay my life to rewind and gain a final insight these will be the key moments i'll again wanna live. Get lost in the fond memories flood. Its too late and i'm gonna miss ma meal writing this in my diary but its always a pleasure safeguarding the treasure and that I set out to do in my own hands. To turn back and turn on any of the pages of these hearty chats. N then i'll again call you and will listen

I often question “ why after months of silence when suddenly u prop up , as if nothing could change, no matter how long it passes with no greetings “ i'm equally pleased to talk to you as if no gap can ever fill in, any long passage the time may travel. The only thing thats there , as u go away is “ do keep propping up more frequent, all too often”
I don't know whats that what ultimately one want in life or what life has in store for me . Many a times I feel I have come all the wrong way and there's no turns to start again .. just before I am in blankness, u call me and I know its just the right which got me a great friend n then I listen to you ---- feeling all the more blessed and filled with zeal and boosted .......................
n when u r frustrated and u listen to me as I struggle to utter a few right words or cut me short then I know i'm not the only one who might have completely screwed up their life but there's one forever companion at my side , turning twice to check what else can be there to run to , when a friend is here to accompany you.
N despite the long sermons I forget all philosophy of win or fail but just keep walking beside you , all the gloom breaks away and frees me in an eternal charm of ur consistent smiles and giggles and silly things – and I know i'm enlightened.

And with such a varied gang of friends I get a universal feel and all little things seem unacceptable and I dismiss as “an ease of flight of illusion” or “ a case of blurred insights or visions ”. N then I wonder why dint all the doomsayers ever got friends like mine to talk to , before being such a nonsense
so blatant and imposing it on and on and spreading it on an array of generations ….....
“n then I smile , dismissing all concerns for a higher gyan I have been bestowed that “i'm the blessed one” with a friend like you to talk to n come to my own spirited world ............
then I realise how much I look forward to talking to you n see just the thought made me awake so long to pen this rare treasure . So how can I emphasise a lil. Less that how much I like talking to you “ as then there's no question, no issues, no if , no but , just a smile and realisation “ indeed i'm the blessed one n will always be, courtsy – friends like thee”!!!

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

who cares??

who likes literature these days?? Anyways Mr. Nitin I hope u very well understand what I want you to write. So please pick up ur instincts and fax it to me by 10 on thursday POSITIVELY to appear on friday review.This was how his editor in chief took care that he couldnt muster any more remarks directed to him. His words full and final.
He was shattered. He dint knew of any responses, silence was the only companion, cudn't believe his ears and his self that he has worked their for 12 long years and now when once in after so long unquestioning service time, he has written a piece of his own choice, so passionately , so truly , so devotedly - with no pretensions, no concerns, no sales pitch but just his little soul and his little childish perfection. Here he is-rejected ,for the first time ever, since 14 yrs back he decided to take writing as his career.
"Who likes literature these days??" A mockery loomed over him .The statement seemed so very known. "'WHO writes literature these days?"remembrance falled on him. It was some years over a decade he had been in his College , still unaware of world out there, content with his little fame in his very own college, happy , satisfied by his top academic performance , no matter it meant nothing to him. Sitting on the staircase shaped auditorium , in full mood of the top college jest , he giggled and laughed , shared a joke or two in class as Ms Shetty , the bespectacled graceful persona, their most respected faculty in those days, stood there with the piece in her hand they had written as part of some creative assignment to evaluate , tune n suggest them ways and means to embark on the journey of creative writing.
That was years ago when he was just entering in the real world and the story is still the same, just the question framed differently. Yet now he wondered how could he expected it to change. All his anger was directed to him now. How can he ever do this to himself?? Allow his very self at disposal of some other insensible money blinded being ! Why?? But he knew this was his only chance , and he knew he had to try without an iota of doubt anywhere in his conscience.

All his life he had doubts, innumerable ones at that, for all the decisions he had to take, all the endeavors he indulged in.Whether he should take history or creative writing in major? whether he should wear blue or black on his date ? whether he should move to Mumbai or Delhi to settle?
whether he should marry now or not?whether he should--------
He tried to get rid of these sick memories,focussed on the crystal on his table, relaxing , holding his breathe and tried to soothe himself and do what what he always did to run away from these unpleasant facets of life and was now perfect at implementing it -"write whatever was asked of". With no personal emotions associated, just as a third person or uninterested critic's remarks.
Yet his pen refused to move even an inch , unlike all instances that had occured before.

" Who writes literature these days?" ."I DO" .Prompt came the bold reply , almost as a statement you are just supposed to take it without any question as an axiom. They had laughed like maniacs that day.Then they had all turned back , to have a look of the joker who managed to utter that while enjoying sharp comments heartedly. Just that the view of persona that was the source of this utterance , made him uneasy. He wanted to join rest all in being indifferent to his looks n confidence , just concentrate on making fun n savour this moment as the most exquisite one showered on them to laugh for weeks , yet his senses refused to comply to his commands , as if imprisoned by that person . "He the best scorer of the batch, should not feel uneasy". His consistent musings left him no better. He felt uneasy. Just that he dint knew what happened to him by his sight.
Mr Nayar was there , "shaku" as he was called. His face told he was not kidding but only he and Ms Shetty could acknowledge that.He regretted why half the world is dumb to not even grasp the most obvious persperctive .Then she told Mr Shaku to meet her after the class and the mood was set.
Days after that he still had dreams of extreme challenges. a tiger devouring a person, seeking supreme rights -asking -" who objects to it"...."I DO' .Mr Nayar in his usual confident, composed self stood there.
The world at the mercy of devils......".who will protect you " i do" on n ..............till he awoke in perspiration.Then he dint knew , why he had admired him so much and unknowingly Nayar was his icon.

The bell rang,nas if to awake him from his reverie, the secretary was in and keen on at the list of things to do for the day. "An appointment sir, followed by a company meeting , then the seminar and u have to address a gathering -------on and on….. sir! R U OKAY?? Sir???"
" Ya oh ye suchitra please cancel all the engagements for the day.".
" Sir?? ….. but today u have pretty important things lined up."
" Please shuchi inform them all , I am unwell". "R u sure sir??" ." Ya please and no calls please until I tell". "Okay sir. Shall I call a doctor for u sir??"." No I’ll take care of it dear. Thanks . u don’t worry, I’m fine."

"How important he was for the society",he wondered. Everybody thought he had a superb career to be jealous of . He wrote all his whims and wishes and was paid hefty for it and an array of awards always followed him. But who knew he never wrote a single piece of his wish.
First the manager dictated him what to show, what to present. Then when he jumped on to newspapers and magazines the editor chalked out the sensational picture to depict and then there he was complying, exaggerating, copying, assembling and modifying , just that he always had a better frame in mind , to fit the things to it . so no matter what he wrote , his piece was unchallenged creative piece.
Yet he dint have freedom for just once. This time he wrote just to come out of this tabbu he carried deep within and could muster no courage to share it with anyone , left on his own to feel its pangs.

He thought of Mr Nayar , as he always did. “STRANGE ARE THE WAYS, I SAVOR CHANGE” he recollected. Every now and then he found himself copying and quoting the lines of nayar’s piece.
Even when he proposed to the gal of his dreams, he took out an entire page , learned it , felt it , remembered it and uttered and she caught unaware, charmed by the beauty and the perfectness , was so mesmerized , spellbound by the depth she accepted.

Even now she keep on telling him that it was his best creation ever. He found his spirits burned . He was useless , with no creative instincts. He should not waste his time and efforts in a domain which is not his. No , this time he would write his own creative piece. And very truly, modestly, sincerely he had it written . “TRUTH IS THE END” . NO , no.. How could he remember each of his lines, he read 12 years back, till date!!!

He was passing out of the corridor that day on his way to watercooler of the school that he had heard , “please leave me a copy at my desk, I do wanna go through it” . “Sure Mam” was the only response.Every person wanted to chat with the revered Ms Shetty , yet here he was with a gr8 opportunity and what he said was just two words. Ridiculous!!!

His curiosity took him to Ms Shetty’s room in evening. His heart beating so loudly so constantly on such a high pitch and scale , he was more afraid that someone will hear them and come. He spotted the writeup on the table . Put a rod with hook on its cover and stole it out of the window and then raced out of institute without even turning once.

Then all night he read , without even a blink. His mom was so curious “whats so special beta that u cant afford few moments to come down and have dinner.?” “Mom please, for GOD SAKE , will u please give me freedom for a day?? I don wanna be disturbed please for god sake don bother me anymore.” He had replied irritated. She understood and never asked me of it.

Munching on packets of chips and peanuts that day was his best remembered one.
Next day he reached the college before time . First and last time ever . Took opportunity n put it thereon its coveted place and never ever glanced back at Mr. Nayar.

Yet every meeting, every seminar, every writeup those same words came out . no matter what they were now his own creation.Yet he felt deeply cheated and he cant share it with anymore . First he dreaded that call of Mr Nayar will come and he saying just two words “ WHY CHEATING??” and he being dumb , devoid of all words and he shivered.
But just that the day never came and “ TIME DO HEAL ALL NOTIONS” . So I too had been comfortable with this and never spared even a second for this stuff.

But why is he thinking all this today?? No matter , his relished piece was rejected but he still is the best writer of the city and with all the success one can ever hope for. He should be happy. Only thing is happiness never exists imposedly.
To and fro , to and fro , …….
Suddenly idea dawned on him , he should check his mail, in case a single magazine agreed to print it , considering his immense fame. Regret . nxt : we are sorry to say…..nxt sub: Re : a creative dawn …his senses boosted . yes . yes. Sir with all due wishes I express my inability….
Blank . He closed his eyes and sat still with blankness all around.

He wondered how Mr Nayar managed to do that. Though very few know of his nearly unknown biweekly magazine , home run by him . But he knew too well and made it a point to get a copy in the name of his maid to avert suspicions. How could he have existed for 12 long years with the entire world against him. He felt an urge to call him and utter all, to ask for his forgiveness , to extend a hand of friendship ,he had so long escaped and had rejected even as an option.
He reached for the phone , dialed few digits but couldn’t dial the no.
He went home , watched tv and " PRETENSIONS WAS ALL" he could see anywhere he turned, “A PILE OF LIES “ . "ITS ALL WHAT YOU CAN TALK". So he told himself , forget of this originality and carry on with this successful image.
Next day he sat in his room. Wrote the article for his boss and with a cup of coffee opened his mail to forward to his boss. That he noticed a mail blinking in his mailbox and address all too familiar.
He opened it and it said, “Will u write literature for me??, MR Nitin.” His spirits knew no bounds . He was on 7th heaven wordless. With his airy speed he picked up the phone and dialed, “hello Nayar , can I join ur magazine as a junior writer. I am a novice in creativity but can work harder to deliver better .I assure u I will contribute my best to it. A caring smile was all he heard, but still he felt so free first time so true , so pure …… light.he knew what bless was……
“Now Mr Nitin when can I expect the second piece and did I said ur cabin is beside mine”. 2nd ?? oh I had send him the piece too!!! They both laughed like kids and rejoiced . “How much he wanted to be able of this friendship he realized and its it happened right away before he plunged again in the loop and could never had returned , no matter however silly, he has escaped.

Now he knew what was so precious of that piece, it was his way back to himself, his redemption and to his friend who assisted him so long . “ FRIEND IS SOMEONE WHO CAN WHEN OTHER’S CANT “ he smiled. Sometimes memories lasts very long………