Saturday, December 16, 2006

This Lonely Night!!

It's half past mid-night, I'm out today...after all it's weekend blast. But am I havin' a blast? Of course not, from a media-centric view point. So, whadda fuck if I'm not in a rock pub or a disco!! I don't want to be with the bunch of posers and escapists. They'll talk as if they know everything. They'll give opinons aired by their newspaper editor this morning, or an ass f&%$# journalist hunting for news; so what's new? They'll request their favorite song...the song has to be a latest TV hit!!!They're bent on showing off that they're hip, they're happening, they're so cool...after all, they have to impress the girls sitting, dancing, next to them!!They've lost their power of judgment...they're led by the media.

An hour ago, I was walking under the starlit sky. It's so wonderful! I love the mysteries of the night. The night lures me to sleep all day! Things look so beautiful under the moon beam. The green leaves dancing with the wind, the gushing streams, the meandering rivers...no, the leaves are not so green. It's the winter of their life...they'll fall when they're totally brown. Then why do people associate the color black to death? Why not brown? What has black got to do with death or sorrow? During winter, when the leaves are brown, they start to fall. Winter bears allusion to our old age. So, from today, let brown be the color of death and decay! I love black...anything black sells for me. Except my good old guitar, she's red, apple red, to be precise. Why? It's so simple, it's a passion, it's a fire...

My guitar maybe my passion, but, this big "but" turns things topsy turvy for those who expect me to record my next song! I'm yet to find a vocalist for the first one. I've not started the hunt yet. I hate it when some friends call me a musician, because I'm not. I don't want music to be my profession, I don't like that lifestyle. I play for myself, I don't entertain requests. I play when I'm blue, I play when I'm happy...my bedrom is my shell!! I'm just a fretfire flasher...not a musician. Then is it that the red guitar is not a passion and just a friend of mine, who I turn to when I'm blue?? Maybe...who knows? not me!!!

Why am I so lonely tonight? I have all my friends with here me. But tonite, my heart is longing for the love that I lost two months back. This burning heart of mine can be so slippery at times, I never knew! Her memories are fading away, but somewhere in a corner, she'll be there forever...I saw here photograph today. It's lying there is her Hi5 profile. I know I'l be fine...this pain is sweet.

Still a heart of steel!!!

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Rush...Don't Brood!!!

I spent my entire Sunday, meaninglessly brooding on my sixth fling relationship, which lies in the graveyard of memories. I totally REGRET this. I could have gone to the CD store or visit one of my friends. I have loads to do on weekends, yet, most weekends are just a drab. I could have washed my dirty jeans and sweat shirts or restore some order in my disorganized room, mopped the floor...but the water is too damn COLD these days. Thank lord! I shampooed my hair on Saturday and this kept me going for this whole week.

But I don't want to end half way with what I've started. It's better rush to the end of the story...

In NewDelhi:

We booked a hotel room close to the New Delhi railway station. It was 12:30 at night and the street was still bustling with locals and foreigners, specially those Central Asian girls who're ready spend a night in exchange of flesh and wine!!! I haggeld with hotel manager and snatched a fair deal. Initially, he asked for 800 INR per night, but we setteld for 500 INR. I'm a great haggler, you see!

Sightseeing Chandigarh, and the 5 hour journey left us totally exhausted...she threw her backpack on the cozy bed and rushed for a shower, while I waited outside. I wish I could join her. But the washroom was too small; can you imagine a bath tub there! After her, it was my turn. When I came back, I found her taking the corks off the beer bottles!!! Time to invoke bacchus!!...We finished four lager beers. I ran my fingers down hersilky soft black hair; we were getting closer and closer and closer until I pulled her gently and by her hair and kissed her pink lips. We kept sucking and biting...no, not for a minute, two or three...Maybe for 10,20,30...minutes...heading for a world record for the longest kiss...we could have easily beaten the French, it's easy!! After all, "there's a slice of heaven in a woman's lips"...I whispered this into her ears...then... we surrendered to the mystery of the night.

Morning came, and with it her phone call. It was afternoon, to be precise. It somehow fell on her aunt's ears that she came out with me...maybe one of her jealous friends bitched about her. Aunt wanted her back in Chandigarh immediately!!...But we wanted togetherness. We slipped into our dresses, hired a rick and off we went to India Gate. Spent time on the grass under the shady treees, exchanged ice creams, kept talking, and watching the morning swiftly heading towards afternon! Next stop was Dilli Haat...she did colorful designs on her hands, we bought gifts for each other and wandered about the premises, peeping into the kiosks, gazing at the unique papier mache, and other stuff..The day was almost over by now. We headed for Chandigarh that night. I dropped her at the ISBT and returned back. I called her up on reaching New Delhi and she was just fine. Of course, because she was yet to garner courage and meet her aunt...Next day I joined my new workplace. It was splendid!! I called her up at mid night and ...gosh!!!!her father was already there!!! He's to take her back home...to look after her two months old brother. She has to GO!!! We're doomed...

I felt sad, I felt like crying...but my emotions lay frozen in an icy lake. I couldn't cry!! I don't know what shen was going thru'...for sure, her world fell crashing down like broken glass. Not because I lost her! I was sad because her situation was worse.

After Thought

I think I draw a strange pleasure whenever I disembark on a Heartbreak Station!!! It was the sixth of its kind and now it feels so SWEET. Remember Shelley?

"Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought"

As if it rings totally true for me!!!

Monday, December 11, 2006

Love Gone Wild, Love Gone Blind...

Chandigarh Bound

The journey was grueling, but there's little I could do with an wallet, which is next to empty. In fact, I had to put on the garb of a spartan. I couldn't think about anything beyond Mahruaii. I'm going to see her this time. I'm used to traveling by these old and rickety local buses because I always prefer the cheapest means of transport available. I'm concerned with the end result and this time it's Mahruaii. No wonder, I got away with just 135 INR. The same trip would have cost me not less than 450 INR if I had opted for those super luxurious Volvo buses. I was happy. After all, I'm living on a shoestring budget.

New Delhi- Chandigarh highway is one of the best roads I've traveled in India. On the highlands, where I belong, the roads are bumpy. We get a ROLLER COASTER RIDE FREE with every trip!! But this is an urban serenade; smooth concrete streets, fast cars, neon lights, plush neighborhoods, and mad scrambles for...almost everything. The people are always running places for one thing or other; lord knows why they're so busy. I tend to compare them with robots, shorn of their emotions.

Life is easy on the highlands. In the evenings, we'd gather at the street side tea-shops, sip for 2,3,4...hours and go on talking; talk idle, talk nonsense, talk about the revolution-gone-wild, talk about music...ah! Music has been my Lifeforce. Here, they don't even have time to pause for a deep breath. I can't see the horizon here. The concrete jungle always frustrates my views. The highlands have clear blue skies, lush vegetation and songbirds singing their reverie. Here, it's the honking horns of vehicles and their roaring engines that make the music of the day.

From New Delhi, it took me almost 5 hours to reach Chandigarh. The highway was flanked by the contrasting features of wheat fields, grazing spots and urban sprawls. Not quite a wonderful sight for one who's used to seeing the rolling hills and the rushing streams. The bus was stuffed with people. They were jostling for space and talking very loud. Some of the less fortunate ones, who didn't get space inside the bus clinged to the door. We halted for a short break at one of the highway eateries, my mind was not set on food. I hadn't eaten a thing since morning. When the bus entered the parking lot, it excited clouds of dust to rise up and envelop everything around. I couldn't stifle a sneeze.

I got off the bus and lighted my trusted Wills Navy Cut cigarette, while my co-travelers hastened to the noisy eatery to secure a table for themselves. Navy Cut has been a companion to me since my high-school days, and unlike most smokers, I never think about quitting, not even in my wildest imaginations! There was a time when I smoked a lot of pot, cannabies, haashih...the wonder weed!! But now, it's only Navy Cut. I relished till the last particle of nicotine, and got back to my seat, waiting for the others to come. The driver hopped into his seat after some 15 minutes and honked for three times. Everyone has to get inside within that brief period, else miss the bus. So, they all hurried back to the bus, with their tummies half-empty. Finally, we're on the road again. I had occupied the window seat. I opened the window glass to let in the cool breeze, which lured me to close my eyes and escape into the lap of sleep.

Suddenly, I woke up to a vibration in my pocket. Yes, it was a text message on my cell phone. It was from Mahruaii..."whr hv u reached honey? I'm almst ready n m nt takn a big luggage. Reachin' ISBT in 20 mins. Can't wait 2be wth U. love u so so much!" It was almost 1400 hrs and the bus was just entering Chandigarh city. The wait is almost over! We've waited for two months and couldn't take it any more. I was already at the exit door before the bus had reached the terminus. So, as soon as it stopped, I was the first one to get off, nay jump off.

The Second Time We Met, Part I

The place was less crowded than I had expected. There were small queues at the ticket counters, bustling coffee shops and eateries, and there were backpacks, briefcases and steel trunks lying everywhere. What a typical Inter State Bus Terminus! Nothing was missing, not even those street children running after everyone for a few coins. I saw one of them approaching me. He knew it well that I was a new guy in town; they study people so closely. I guess my long hair and weird dress sense gave him the edge. It's incomprehensible for me why a lot of people consider me as someone out-of-this-world. Why do they have to be so pokey about my hair, my ragged and torn jeans, my black band t-shirts, and everything about me. I'm just a simple normal guy.

Before he could say anything I took out a 2 INR coin and gave it to him. He went away happily, and I was even happier. They're the less privileged children of the poorest working class. They don't go to school, they don't play with soft toys and they don't live in cozy homes. They spend their day waiting for some softhearted people to give a few coins to them, so that they can see the next morning light. Isn't it unjust of their parents to give birth to them if they don't have the means to take care of them? Isn't it a crime against childhood?

Mahruaii was supposed to be somewhere around. I looked around for her, bumping into almost every stranger who came on my way. My razor-sharp eyes didn't miss a single facet in their faces. We've met only once, but I still remember every nuance in her face. Her innocent eyes, those pink lips and rosy cheeks and a smile that would sweep any guy off his feet. My pre-paid card crossed its validity period and I couldn't make a call, nor send any text to her. A few meters away there was a local phone booth colored in yellow, which was surprisingly empty. I rushed towards it, hoping to capture the phone before anyone else could do that.

I dropped the coin and dialed Mahruaii's number. It rang only once and I heard the familiar "hello" from the other side. She was waiting for my call in all her excitement. ‘Hey, where are you? I've reached ISBT and I'm unable to locate you." The words came out as I gasped for breath. "I'm here at the ISBT. Which booth are you calling from?" She replied back. I could feel the thrill in her voice. I'm so used to her voice. For all these months we've only been communicating over the telephone. Sometimes she'd ring me up at 2'o clock in the dead of the night and we'd go on till morning. "I'm calling from this booth...ummm...yellow in color". I answered back, trying to explain her how the booth looked like. "Wait, and hang on. Don't go anywhere." Her voice reached my ears. Not just from the phone. It was somewhere in the air.
I turned back and...YAY!!! She was there...standing face to face. She looked very fresh; was wearing dark blue denim, a red-n-white striped top and white sneakers and carrying her tiny backpack. My little girl, little in the sense, she was younger to me by 5 years. Since we said goodbye at the New Delhi Railway Station on the night of 6 June this year, this is the first time we're meeting. Time now is, the afternoon of August 7th.

That night, I could see it in her innocent eyes. It was love! Love at the first meeting. How I longed for such a wonderful thing to happen to me. She was the sixth girl who fell in love with me. Each of the earlier times, I'd say to myself, "She is my last love. I won't lose her this time." But destiny always had other plans. Things would go wrong at both ends. And finally we'd SPLIT!!! Yet, I've been in very good terms with most of my ex-girlfriends. I loved all of them with a heart so pure. And now I really respect them for the good times we shared, for what they are. I know it's easy to love someone, but it's so hard to maintain that relationship, especially when mutual needs are different.

The First Time We Met...

She was on her way back from Aizawl to Chandigarh to attend her second year graduation classes after spending the entire summers at home. I always had a fascination for Aizawl. After all, it's the most beautiful town in Northeast India, although the Shillong city would give it a tough time vying for that coveted position. My Guwahati is a typical metropolis, the only city of this kind in the entire region. Being the gateway to this region, everyone has to pass the city in order to reach mainland India. We were traveling in the same compartment in the Northeast Express, the super fast train connecting Guwahati to New Delhi. She occupied the berth next to me. My purpose was to get back my belongings from my friend's place in New Delhi. I studied Journalism there and was staying, nay enjoying my time, with my pals until I went to Mumbai for work. When I left for Mumbai, I kept most of my stuff at my friend's place and carried only a few pair of clothes, my guitar and my little cassette player. My Mom wanted me to get back home. And it was my duty, too, because she was not keeping well those days. I had to quit my job in Mumbai and get back home after just six months of work. I had decided to settle down in my hometown.

Till this time, I had no clue about the fact that, for my profession, there is no career opportunity in Guwahati. My Dad wanted me to study medicine because my big bro is an Engineer. That's the common career perception among most parents here. I totally respect it because these are the best career opportunities here. But to be stereotyped into a doctor was something that I completely despised!! I quit the science stream after high school and joined arts. So, no chance for medicine. I was spoilt and pampered. "I shall do what I want to do. I won't let my parents' wishes kill the real person in me." That's how I perceived things those days. My dad was hurt, but he never forced me. He supports me every time if I'm morally and logically correct. Now that I was studying arts, dad had another plan for me. He wanted me to join the government, nay head the government. He wanted me to join the elite administrative services. That's the best government position one can have in India. It carries so much of respect from all quarters. Being a top bureaucrat himself, dad is right. He's seen it all. But again, bureaucracy was not too appealing for me. Neither was management, which my big bro' suggested at one point in time. But soon he realized that I'm the WAYWARD SON and stopped interfering in my issues. But he does support me, just as my dad does. They love me so much. And I love them too. That's why I decided to return home from Mumbai. At least, if I'm with them, they'll be happier. My mom was the happiest person around this time. We've been such good friends.

It was 8 am in the morning. The train started to roll down the tracks. She was traveling with her aunt, Nancy, and her friend...oh! I don't remember her name. Though we traveled in the same compartment, we didn't talk for hours. They were busy in their own gossip, and I was lost in Thomas Hardy's Under the Greenwood Tree. Perhaps Nancy wanted to break the ice. She started, " You must be a voracious reader". I replied, surprised by that unexpected question " Not too much of a reader. But yes, I love reading the classics, though I don't get much time." This is how it began. We discussed a lot of things. We had the same major, English Literature. Mahruaai was not a part of this conversation but she kept looking at me. It was around afternoon when she finally came to me with a packet of potato wafers. "Would you like to have some?" She said, pointing towards the packet. I smiled and nodded and took out a few wafers, and said, "Thank you". So, it finally started between us. The 36 hour long journey seemed too short this time. We had plenty of fun. I liked her attitude. I wished the journey to last a little longer. I wanted the train to break down. I wanted it to slow down and delay. But it was not meant to be. Next evening, we arrived at New Delhi right on time, 20:30 sharp. Before we got down, I noted down her email id in a scratch of paper. I tore the lower half of the paper, jotted down my id, and phone number and gave it to her. I helped them with their luggage at the when we disembarked. Finally, it was time to say goodbye. But I knew that we're not ready for it. I saw something special in her innocent eyes. But we had to go separate ways.
The next morning I checked my email and was stunned!! There was a mail from Mahruaii...
"Hi...this is the girl you met on train, if you remember. Just wanted to say hi"
I checked the time. She sent that mail at 1 am in the night JUST to say hi!!! But I had known it before that she was not ready to leave me at the station. I hit back with..."I'm so glad to hear from you, Mahruaii. How could you think that I'll forget you in just one night? I remember everything about you. Take care and be in touch."

The next day she mailed me her phone number. I called her up that night. We talked for some 5 minutes. Nothing special. Just a formal conversation about how we enjoyed the journey and what we've been doing since we bid farewell at the station. We didn't talk or exchange any mails for the next one-week. I reached home with all my stuff. It was the evening of 18th June. On reaching home, I switched-on my phone and there was a text message. I was thrilled when I saw the name Mahruaii!! She surprised me again!!! This time she wished me a safe journey back home. That night we left bare all our emotions. She said that she couldn't live without me and I reassured her of my love for her. I loved her with all my heart. What a love drive!!

The next few days were quite exciting, the usual in the first few days in love. We were staying miles apart and the only means to of expressing our emotions was the telephone and the Internet. But alas! Good times are never meant to last long. Her mother fell seriously ill and was hospitalized. Mahruaai was worried because, for some strange reason, her ESP continued to tell her that these are the last days for her mom. I kept calling her up every afternoon and every night, trying to give her hope. Early morning 25 June: the text message form Mahruaii left me with tears..."This morning she passed away at 5 am. I'm totally broken, my love. I'm not ready to live without her." I jumped off my bed and reached for my phone. I was taken aback. I was not ready to believe this. We talked just a few hours back and Mahruaii said that her mom is recovering and getting better. Then what is this text all about? I dialed her number. Her phone rang a few times. Finally, she picked up. She broke down. She cried. I wish I were there to support her in this greatest moment of crisis. I tried to console her, but I knew that the telephone is not enough in such a situation. She said that now she'd no one except me. I knew that she lived with her stepfather. Her mother married a second time after her father left them. No one can love a child like a mother. It's true. She lost this love forever. Her mom took the best care of her, and sent her money for her education. She said that she might return back to Aizawl. She has to take care of her two-months old brother; the child by her mother and stepfather. In the days that followed, our love grew stronger.

Street of Dreams:

But things were not the same. My career was taking a downslide. Being a freelance writer, I didn't have a steady income. Projects became scarcer. My best friend and I, we organized rock concerts, we managed all small gigs and performances in the city. But still we're left with a petty amount. I was slowly getting frustrated. I talked to my parents. Explained them about my situation. Finally the words came from my dad, "Go back son. I want you to shine. I'll support you with all my might". I was thrilled!!! I decided to go back to New Delhi, more because of its proximity to Chandigarh, the place where Mahruaii lived. I'll be closer to her. I thought we could meet on weekends. Good times are about roll again. I saw an ad by New York-based an online budget travel company. They were looking for a Content Writer. I applied and waited for their reply. I didn't have to wait for too long. The next morning I checked my mailbox. There was very warm mail from Ashley. She said that my writing samples are Terrific!!! I never thought I'd be appreciated so much, for no one ever did that before. I was quite excited about this opportunity now. I replied her back. I thanked her and said that I'm eager to work with them. But I was required to go through a telephonic round and she asked me the time when I'd be free for that. I informed her that I'm available "anytime". I had so much of confidence in me. I believed that I was already through.

Two nights later, I was dead asleep after a hectic day. I woke up to the land phone. I grasped for switchboard and turned on the light. I looked at the clock. It was 1 am sharp. I asked myself, "Who's calling at this unearthly hour?" I picked up the receiver and the "hello" came out from my throat. I was sleepy, but I tried to avoid that tone. An unknown voice came from the other side, "Hi Joey ! This is Sanjeev from Roadrunner. Roadrunner!!!That name left me excited. It was the company that I had applied a few days back. But why are they calling me up for an interview at such a wicked hour!!! I was not pissed at all though. I'm very flexible and tend to take everything in my stride. Angst is the last word in my dictionary of emotions and expressions. "Joey, Ashley would like to speak to you", said Sanjeev again. Ashley!! That name made me feel really good. She's the same lady who sent me that warm mail about my sample write-ups, the one with whom I've been communicating till now. Her voice exuded the same warmth and even more. I really felt it. She asked me a few questions. I still don't remember how I answered her questions or what answers I gave. I was too tired and too sleepy!!! But after a few days Sanjeev called up again and informed that I'm through. Time to celebrate. Yipeee!!! I had already made up my mind to get on with work seriously. When I do things seriously, I dedicate my mind, my body and my soul to it. My dad always taught me to be an honest person and I learned it really well.

I called up Mahruaii and gave her the news. She was jubilant! It's the first thing that made her happy after her mom passed away. Time to pack the backpacks again. The destination is New Delhi again. I planned to meet Mahruaii in Chandigarh, before I join my workplace. So, I started from home a few days in advance. I bid goodbye to my parents and the best of friends. I felt sad. Times are really happy at home, with family and friends. But when career is under threat, we rarely surrender. On reaching New Delhi, I went straight to one of my friend's place and unpacked at his place. I couldn't wait any longer to call up Mahruaii and say, "honey, we're meeting tomorrow. I'm starting from New Delhi early morning tomorrow and reach you by afternoon." I know we're just a night away from being the happiest couple on earth. She gave me instructions about how to reach Chandigarh from New Delhi. I slept early that night because I couldn't wait for the morning to come. I woke up early in the morning, dressed up, packed my rucksack, lighted a Navy Cut and headed straight to ISBT New Delhi. The place was crowded and it was noisy. There were all kinds of buses displaying plaques with their destination named inscribed. In that commotion I heard a voice shouting, "Chandigarh, Chandigarh, Cahndigarh...". I looked around and saw that local bus to Chandigarh. I jumped into it and took a window seat, hoping to enjoy the roadside views. I have a fascination for these views.

Together Again: The Second Time we Met, Part II

I took her in my arms and kissed her on her forehead. In India, people do not encourage public display of affection. For the first few minutes we kept smiling at each other. We were lost for words. We're meeting each other for the first time after we fell in love. Finally, we had to start with the most formal question, "How are you doing today?" Sounds lame, but we couldn't help it! Both of us were hungry. She hired a three-wheeled cycle- rickshaw and instructed the driver to take us to the central shopping mall. Unlike New Delhi, Chandigarh is quite clean and green. "Ah! Finally we're together again!", said Mahruaii as she took a deep breath. Both of us are so relaxed after all those restless days. " Yes dear, our love has found way". I smiled and replied. Everyday I kept saying that love would find a way, and this time it really did.
She took me to her favorite restaurant and we took the middle seat. We're looking for the corner one, but it was already occupied. The waiter came with a long list of item son the menu. We just ordered two Foster's beer and butter naan with curry. When it was over, we were full. "What to do now? Let's go to Shimla." I suggested a plan as she's leaving the city to stay with me for two days. But she wanted to visit New Delhi. Her aunt stays in the same city, but she didn't inform her about that. She was very strict, and won't let her leave the city. So, Mahruaii had to lie to her. She said, "Shimla is too close by. Let's take a long night bus ride. It'd be great". I thought for a while and nodded, "Great idea. Let's get back to New Delhi. A night ride would be perfect." She exclaimed, "yay!" We paid the bills and left the restaurant.

It was still afternoon and we had plenty of time left to spend in Chandigarh before we start for New Delhi. I was new to the place, but she knew it well. She asked me if I'd like to take a boat cruise in the lake. I was thrilled. I love boat cruises, though I don't know how to swim. I said, "let's do it". Cycle rickshaw again! This is perhaps the best way to travel short distances within the city. We reached the lake after a 15-minute ride. At the lake, there were boats of every shape and every design: fish, swan, canoe, kayak and lots more. I was too excited for the ride. She said, "let's ride that pink swan". I knew pink is her favorite color. So, I said, "go for it". We booked that paddleboat for a one-hour. It was quite cheap. We paid only 60 INR. We kept floating on the lake exploring every corner of it. It was quite large for a man-made lake. When we came ashore we had to pay some extra because we crossed our time limit. But that was worth the ride. It was almost 5 o'clock and we came back to the ISBT to get the bus to New Delhi. This time I didn't want to take a local bus again. Since it's going to be night, it'd be unsafe for her. We booked two Volvo tickets and waited for the bus.

When the bus started it was 7 o'clock in the evening when the bus started. We sunk into the comfy seats. The legroom was three times the local bus. Slowly it became dark. I was tired, and I'd have slept off had it been an ordinary day. But tonight, I'm with Mahruaii and I didn't want to miss a moment of this togetherness. After two days, we have to get back to our own worlds: my new workplace and her college. There was complete silence inside the bus. Perhaps everyone wanted to treat us with a happy ride. I reached out for her hands. They were so soft and warm. She never knew any sorrow until her mom passed way. And now her world is so different. Life is going to be hard. I wanted to make evrything alright for her with all of my love.........to be continued