Life a Mystery ...

Few things left unsaid ...between you and me ..

2012-01-15T22:02:00.001+05:30

I saw her coming out of the temple with her mom. She was little short and fat and I always wished god has pulled her up a bit so that she gained the height and compensated on her width. She was wearing some weird colour saree with lots of golden threads in it which symbolized her weird nature but her richness. To summarize I can say that aunt was just a below normal looking women but she always had enough attitude to make people around her feel small either judging them on their social standing or money. She was proud of too much money she had and she was happier on being from a certain caste and always felt having a priority membership in front of God. Yes! I hated her for her attitude but I loved her because she has given birth to the most loving and beautiful daughter on this earth.

Fighting with the fear of getting noticed by her mom I just got courage to notice her face which was fair enough to give her an instant modelling contract for most of the fairness cream advertisement. Her eyes were glittering with the reflection of burning flame which made her look divine, the strands of hair always fell on her face and she always complained how unmanageable it was for her and how much I wished to join as the caretaker to take care of all her issues without even charging a penny. She carried her so call puja ki thali which had flower petals of rose,marigold and jasmine arranged in the best possible pattern and a diya in between. She was covering the flame with her palm. I loved every move of hers, every step she took, every time she complained about the falling hair or about her stole getting stuck in her bangle or many other things happening all around her. I went back again to her face ... noticing the perfectness in God's creation, perfect big and sparkling eyes which had enough depth for me to dive in to search any love for me in it. Her eyebrows were in perfect shape and even her eye lashes were amazingly beautiful. She had a sharp nose with a diamond nose-pin glittering under lights to add an aura to her face. I can see the moist lips, so soft, so pink and so delicate with a hint of gloss to make it more desirable by me. I even noticed a small bindi which made her even more beautiful. "Was she daughter of her mother ?" My angel was now more closer to me and it was time for me to get out of her spell and hide among the crowd to avoid her mother noticing me.

She was my Diya, daughter of rich businessman Mr. Pradhan who did something or other to keep himself counted among the richest people of Jamshedpur. I bet if there had been any Forbes top ten list for the city he would have always been among the top three in the rich,respected and influential person category. Also may be a topper in cold blooded businessman list as well. I hated him for his richness and influence but somewhere wanted to match or rather exceed his status in times to come.

Its been a year for me coming to temple every full moon night to see my crush, my love, my angel and my everything...whom I called my best friend. We studied in the same school, same class and same subjects.. the only thing we had in common and rest everything was like exactly opposite. I was an average looking, pimpled face guy while she was a fairy on earth may be on some secret mission of God. We had been classmates for six years and she started sitting next to me after the class teacher forced her to sit beside me to get inspired from my academics performance... after all I was topper in academics. I still remembered her expression when she was asked to sit with a guy with heavily oiled hair perfectly combed in side partition strong enough to last a couple of week braving rains or even hurricane.

She started liking me or rather she adjusted to the smell of mustard oil from my hair as she stopped complaining. The first thing about me that impressed her was my handwriting and she praised me for good ten minutes for the same. I even remember her excitement when she noticed me using my left hand to write ..she made me feel special even for that.

As the years passed I maintained the tag of being the class topper and she improved a lot courtesy my super notes "Question in red and answers in blue types" . She stopped reading her books and as per her she only believed on my notes calling me Professor Champ to get around 70% marks in all her exams. She made me change a bit , I was now more presentable in cheapest possible Charlie perfume and using Fair & Lovely fairness more often stealing from my sister's closet. With the passing years she became the prettiest face of the town winning almost all the beauty contests of Jamshedpur. She only had me as her friend and for me she was the only one. We shared our lunch,our notes, our time and our lives together.

I still remembered the details of every gift of hers and every nice thing that happened when I was with her. She gave me an "Amul Chocolate Bar" when I topped my Xth exams and she cutely repeated the advertisement punch line "A gift for someone you love". I still have the wrapper in my possession along with the tickets of movie DDLJ that we watched together...it says "Payal Cinemas Rs 10.80 Balcony C10, C11".

I met her parents at the award function where I got so many awards for topping the ICSE exams.

Diya introduced me using more superlatives than used in the introductory scene of any historical serials in DD National Network. But they seemed less interested as I was not matching their social status and their high expectations. As she left the auditorium she thanked me saying "Hey... you are the only one who scored 160% in ICSE" a confused look on my face ..."Come on 90% that you scored and 70% that I scored" ...a little smile on my face.. "Thanks a lot for being with me all these years...I wish we were more than friends".... she sealed my success with a kiss on my cheek. That was perfect ..I felt that even hours,even days may be even now after so many years it actually happened.

She chose commerce to keep her busy in something and I joined science to pursue my engineering dreams. Now we could only meet on the weekends for a few minutes which seemed like a small drop to quench our thirst for each other's company. I always wanted to ask her what she meant by saying "Wish we were more than friends!!! ", but I didn't had courage. I was enjoying every meeting of ours as she used to hold my hand between her palms for the whole blissful twenty minutes of our togetherness. Two years passed very much like this except one incident when her father saw her holding my hand which resulted in two tight slaps on my face. The whole pain subsided when she called me to say sorry and I felt relieved when she said I hate my father for calling me dirty worm and hitting me for none of my fault. This incident changed our ritual of meeting and since that day I started following her to her monthly errands to the temple.

I topped my ISC Board exams and qualified for engineering entrance as well but this time she was not there to sweeten my success. I can't even tell her about me moving to Delhi at least for four years for my engineering. I wished she were there while I packed my suitcase. I missed her in my life and I found that vacuum hard to fill. My emptiness and my pain encouraged me to call her home number but my luck got me connected to her who sounded so relieved to know that I am leaving the town for four years. As expected she did not allow me to talk to Diya and coldly responded that she is having fever and is resting...what she meant was "stay away you dirty worm ...don't spoil my daughter."

I boarded the train and just when it started to move I saw Diya hysterically looking for me...I shouted her name to draw her attention..she came closer to the window running all along with the train, she was crying, saying so many things, instructing me to take good care etc etc ...At the last moment as the train picked speed she gave me a small ladies wallet. "I wanna kiss you Diya before I go ...she sprinted to match the speed of train ..putting her cheeks on the window so that I was just able to touch her with my tongue..that ended my most adventurous kiss ever ...now I can see her waving hand... my city ...my friend, my life...all seemed to be going away from me ..for now or for ..forever ...only time can tell. I opened the wallet that she gave me...it has Rs. 675 and a note which said "If we can never meet again...I wanted you to know how much I love you and only you...forever yours ..Diya."

I reached Delhi and tried calling her million times but the phone was dead... I tried the number daily religiously may be a hundred times ...three months down the line ...I got the announcement "The number you are trying to call does not exist" ...that's why I hated her parents..

I loved her more than anything and everything...I took my wallet out to see the ten rupee note which had her signature. I remembered the day when I went to her home to wish her Happy Birthday with her favourite Dairy Milk Crackle .pink teddy and red roses. When I was returning she gave me that ten rupee note and said "Please take a rickshaw back home..as I know you have wasted all your pocket money on me...I love you...you are the best gift of God for me.." I felt taking the rickshaw only to realize that the currency had Diya's name on it ....how can I spend that for a rickshaw fare. I cannot even give that away if the wish god offered me a fortune for that... but I just wished ...I had said "I love you" and had shown courage to own her.

I have success, I have money, I have name but I do not have reasons to feel so incomplete without you.

"Because there is no sunlight as I lost you,there is no clear skies as I lost you,

Just like the clouds, my eyes do the same, as you walked away...

Everyday it RAINS..."

"My friend Nikki"

2011-04-17T16:05:00.000+05:30

I was hearing a lot about the Y2K affect and the only affect that I have seen is that too many Indians are realizing their American Dream due to this. But yes it has also hooked me to the world of internet or rather to the world of Yahoo messenger. I don’t know what addiction is but I can’t get away from the chat rooms for very long and my chat rooms reflected my global reach as it had Jenifer from California, Carla from Mexico Paramjeet from Amritsar and many more. Yet again I logged into the chat and my eyes stuck a fancy ID "smokyeyes4u@yahoo.com". As usual I fired the world's most favorite introduction line ...ASL PLZ ??? That simple question gave me "My friend Nikki".

She claimed to be 20, female, Tamil Nadu as her reply came after a good thirty minutes when I had a handful of people already chatting to me but I noticed or rather waited for the reply. I closed all the chats and just wanted her to be with me. I hardly got ten replies from her in forty minutes with decency written all over her answers( please read decency as boredom ) but yet I felt there is something worth waiting for her and ignoring everything else. That chat session make me wonder even today, why such a change in me? Was I destined to meet "The Nikki" of my life that way?

We moved very fast chatting daily for minutes which became hours very soon. We shared our likes, dislikes and hobbies and also came to know that she belonged to Chennai.... sorry Coimbatore ...sorry Salem ...and finally Madurai...Our friendship was growing like my knowledge about South India. Now for me each and everything down south is not only Madras, Hyderabad and Bangalore, I now knew the difference between Tamil Nadu, Karnataka and Kerala and also knew Kannada, Tamil, Malayalam are different languages.

I met her for the first time after braving a tight slap from a traffic policeman who hated North Indians for all his hardships and who found them bunch of Hindi speaking, illiterate fools. Before that meeting I had rehearsed well and thoroughly mugged up everything about her favourites to impress her. I saw her wearing pink lower and a blue top which reminded me of introduction scene of any modern actress in Tamil movies. As I came closer I noticed braces in her teeth and a specs on her nose which added 2-3 yrs to her age ...which was otherwise around 17-18 only. We sat in a restaurant had tender coconut and talked almost for an hour which was mostly me speaking more and more about my life in Delhi and my knowledge about telecom. She only joined in with a few sentences in her high accent Hindi and English...where she called Aaaaiiii aammm yaaa normaall girl fruuummm esmall placee and main jeyaaada advance nahi hooon. I left her and I had only two things in my mind ...yaar she is fair and yes she drives well.

I reached Delhi and I got her call every time I switched my phone on getting down from my flight back to home. I loved getting cared and pampered but my north Indian mind always forced me to concentrate on the physical appearances and neglect the beautiful soul of Nikki. I felt like sleeping over the thought with surety the chapter called Nikki is about to end. I had a night filled with contradictions; my mind going against her and my heart and soul going for her. At last Nikki's magic worked and the next morning I had a special place for her in my life and I moved ahead with a thought that no one ever had cared, loved and been there with me like my Nikki... and I noticed one more thing she has now become My Nikki....

We moved ahead in life but continued our care and love for each other even after the physical distances between us. We felt great when we were together and we shared every achievements and we cried together on every pain. In short we became best friends or rather part of each other’s identities. We felt emotionally stable with each other. She cared for me, motivated me and always stood firm with me in all the ups and downs of life. Even I was with her every time but I admit she was far better in terms of her commitment towards our friendship, also she was more caring, more understanding and more mature even when she was almost six years younger to me. At times I felt proposing her but I was afraid of losing her, I felt she is too young for me or maybe she is not the one for me etc. Despite my reasoning I must accept that I had started loving her and I felt she loved me too more than anything and everything. But we waited for each other to propose or move ahead but life had other plans.

I met my dream girl, I fell in love, got committed to her and started having a great bond with my love. My priorities changed and my preferences too. When Nikki complained about my being ignorant, my being selfish or my being negligent to her I justified her with weirdest reasons and logic, but yet she remained there with me hearing my pains of love, supporting me throughout, my Nikki never changed even for a much meaner and selfish me.

Yes, years passed Nikki grew fairer, prettier and more feminine. Now anyone can notice her in the crowd and the only help I gave her during her phase- shift was my constant motivation and feedback and my constant push to her to realize her beautiful outside and I always praised her for the new more beautiful transformation. We were still together and every new dress in our wardrobe meant sharing pics in that with each other. We both loved and cared as we did six years ago when we entered each other's life. She remained as pure and committed as she had always been but I changed a lot and whenever I felt guilty I had my manipulative mind doing the reasoning to make me feel better.

Then came the justice, a true one from the almighty, Nikki told me that she is in love with someone, I hated it and I hated him without even knowing the details. I always felt Nikki is mine only mine so I cannot bear this change. Although she always ensured she is with me in all my pleasure and pain, she remained the same as she told, she shown me how things can be adjusted with changes in life and how priorities can remain the same forever. I felt bad sharing my Nikki with someone as I always felt I have made this cool and confident Nikki and I have all her ownership rights. I always told her that it’s only me who can understand her, only I can pamper her as I know her inside out for so long.

In the meantime I lost my love and also my love for life which made me lonelier and introvert. I was missing Nikki all around me but I felt happy for her as she grown in her professional life and as usual I never talked to her about her personal life.

Today I remember the evening when I sat with her at the Golden Beach of Chennai when she said looking into the endless sea....

"You know Aviii why God has created gaps between our fingers?" ....she took a long pause ...took a deep breath ...wrote something on the sand and replied herself ....."So that someone's fingers can fill those gaps perfectly." .....I tried to look into her eyes and also to what she has written on the sand....but the waves were quick enough the erase the writings ...and she was quick enough to wipe off tears from her eyes...I also remember trying many times whether her fingers filled the gap or not ...and yes it filled perfectly.

Now I am sitting lonely at the banks of Yamuna with this letter in my hand. I have taken a bottle lying in the sand, slipped these pages into it and capped the bottle tightly before throwing it back into the river. My geography lesson says every river falls into the sea and every sea end up into the ocean so I am hoping that someday Nikki will find this bottle with the letter when she will be playing with the waves in Chennai beach. Then she will realize at least I was not that a bad friend, that I loved her as much she loved me and that I would like to be a part of her life in all her lives to come.

The poison these days are also fake as it’s been three hours and I am still not very close to the lap of death... but I know I will rest in peace as I have finally spoken my heart out to my Nikki and I also believe our relationship is best expressed without a perfect tag to it ...it’s not friendship it’s not love it’s not something which can be written or explained with some words ... it is eternal and it is meant to be beyond the limitations of life and death ...I also know that one day Nikki will find the bottle as she always told miracles do happen ....and I totally agree as my Nikki has always been like a miracle in my life...

And finally I also have an answer to the biggest question of my life ...Which hurts the most: saying something and wishing you had not, or saying nothing, and wishing you had? ... I now know that we should speak our hearts out and face the consequences rather than to keep it well within... I am closing my eyes forever .... Kaaaaassssssssshhhhhhh I knew it earlier.

Festival of tears....

2010-10-17T11:00:00.008+05:30

"Hey mamma, did you really celebrate when Ritu di was born?”

I could see mamma’s face turn red with anger or frustration and she responded with a tight slap on my cheek making it even more vibrant with blood rushing to fill in to mark her fingers on my face.

Ritu di came running for my rescue and took me with her to her room amid the curses coming out from mamma’s mouth.Oh my God this girl teaches pinto all sort of non-sense things and this kid is stupid enough to get slapped every now and then.

As Ritu di took me away from drawing room the curses were feebly audible to me or rather it was less prominent and were overpowered by Ritu di's sobbing.She gave me samosa and just tried to console me by wiping my face with her duppatta. She made me comfortable by doing that but I always felt she needed it
more than me.

"Ritu di, why did you give all the samosas to that bunch of aunties?" I didn’t like them. You know as you went away to get tea for them they called you white demon and the motu, taklu uncle told no no she is pale due to jaundice it seems...

"They ate all our samosas too". I frowned.

Ritu di's voice turned hollow and her eyes continued to shed tears as she put me close to her bosom and hugged me tight. I was the closest friend of her in all her agony and pain and 21 something sister of mine shared her heart out with me although being just 6 I hardly understood anything.

I could just lift my eyes to see her face and to me her face was the prettiest among all the family members and relatives and also much better than the girls in our locality. She was very fair and it seems "Fair & Lovely" has kept their promise by making her fair. Di said she is fairer due to it whenever I asked why she is so fair and I am wheatish but that Fair & Lovely didn’t make me even a shade fairer though.

Her hairs were thick and long, her nose was sharp and she had a perfect glowing face with the most beautiful eyes in the whole world. It were made perfect by her well shaped eye-brows and long eye-lashes. But yes today her eyes were red.” I thought that might have caused the gandi aunty to say you are a white demon ".

I pointed to Ritu di seeing her red watery eyes.Her sobbing turned into burst of tears and she clanged me even closer while I started having the samosa. I could hear her heartbeats which were like thumping hard against my ears. I could not read or interpret them but I knew they were trying to tell me a lot which Ritu di could never speak. They tend to go louder when she became quiet, lost and secluded within herself.

I liked the festival as everybody used to wear nice clothes, we used to have samosas,gulab jamuns and rasna too. From the start itself mamma used to sit selecting best saree for Ritu di and all the instructions kept coming out..."Dekh Ritu jyada mat bolna... seedhe chalna ...jyada aankh utha ke mat dekhna aur haan yaad hai na shahi paneer mein koun koun se masale dalte hain". She might have never prepared so much even in her career to get the Bechelor degree with honours in Humanities.

The strange part of the festival was that it was always Ritu di looked most gorgeous and most beautiful while she used to enter the scene with tray full of chips, biscuits and tea for all the guests. The strangest thing however was that she always used to claim as directed by mumma that the tea is made by her but actualy it was mumma who prepared it. Every time my sweet goddess used to serve tea to all aunties and uncles who seemed to check every move of hers with their nagging eyes.They made di even more uncomfortable with the volley of their questions and murmuring jointly after every answer or silence by Ritu di. I sometime felt they are chanting mantras in from of my goddess.

Till date it has resulted in all our samosas being consumed by those ever hungry aunties clad in heavily shiny sarees which were too loud to match their ages and the lip-stick flowing on their chins clearly mentioning come on you all are too old to use such things on your plumpy face and hanging lips.The worst thing about the festival was that mamma used to get upset after it all the times blaming Ritu di for one thing or the other and thrashing me for sure finding anything offensive in my words or behavior.

The epitome was always me resting on Ritu di's chest to share the heartbeat and tears. I always use to appreciate her saree clad so called dulhaniya looks in my terminology. She always looked stupendous,even when she wore a gorgeous red saree and the oldies ladies commented "thodi age jyada lagti hai ladki ki" or when she walked in yellow she was called a jaundice patient and even when my fairy walked in pure white to mesmerize all everyone made an issue by saying "aiye haaye kaisi manhoosiyat dikha rahi hai jaise koi marr gaya ho".

All the photographs send to us before the festivals were of guys mostly ten shades darker than Ritu di, shabbier in their looks and all looked like Ramsingh driver or Ramu mali in front of my sweet sister. But destiny always chose my beautiful damsel to sit in a room and shed the tears to signify her failure to impress her to be in laws. But somewhere she knew that more than her looks or features it was lack of the bank balance in papa's account which was the major reason for this.

But she was taking all the blame on her to keep the image and safedposhi of family intact.Today the festival seems to change its rituals as one of the aunties gave Ritu di Rs 1000 and a one ruppee coin and also gifted her a nice maroon saree. Today mom also didn’t slap me when I asked " Mumma why they gave me only 100 rupees note and so many things to di ?"

Even papa was happy to announce that Ritu pasand aa gayi hai unko.There was much happiness at home and we even had more samosas bought for us so that we can fill our tummies completely.Soon the financial aspects were sorted out and today we have to give our sweetest Ritu di with a Maruti 800, colour TV, refrigerator and so many other things. When she was leaving everyone was crying, mummy giving her too many suggestions, all my cousins ensuring her make up and chunri were intact.Papa and bhaiya ensuring everything is in place with the arrangement.

Then finally the moment came when my Ritu di hold me close, crying so loudly after having me in her arms again as her best partner in all her downs and agonies. She behaved as if she was thanking me for sharing her tears and listening to her heartbeats when no one was around. She embraced me for the last time it seemed and I could hear silence and not her heartbeat, I just wondered is she dead or is she sad as I asked mumma "We wont have samosa festival in our house anymore?"

Or it was the crackers and drums which had made her heartbeat go silent and I really felt its analogy with every festival ended with a loud procession for the idol immersion.

Journey Continues.....

2010-09-05T15:35:00.000+05:30

Life begins with a struggle for breath,

It brings joy still carries a fear of death.

I want to live,to get the essence of happiness,

To dare the adversities and all the roughness.

I want to enjoy the sanctity among all the pain,

I realize I am alone,I fall at hurdles but rise again.

The call arises within me,go,continue,chase your dream,

Yet a fear stops and checks the flow of stream.

I realize that I must rise,persevere,move and then take a further step,

All this to make sure that my dreams take a real shape.

I believe in the saying that life is a labour and death is rest,

I know that I am here to give the world my best.

So, I am again on a journey to solve the mystery of life.....

Senses Guide Me.....

2010-08-13T01:18:00.000+05:30

Avik Saxena
( B.E. , M.B.A. )

The brightness of golden letters were quite visible even with my eyes which were deprived of sleep for so many hours.The whole life for me was written in these five letters just punctuated with dots and commas.

"Arey beta soye nahi kya raat bhar" ? Maneka Aunty questioned.

"No aunty I was in office for some work".

Poor You !!!
I was struggling even harder to open my door to save myself from the sympathy of Maneka Aunty who rightfully though US is the only country and $ is the only symbol of success and prosperity.

Oh! Shit. Again no milk. Only maggi to have a feast... I frowned.

Just a heartbeat was there to make me realize that I am still alive. I was still looking at the wall clock,seeing its hands move in monotonous circular pattern.Alas....my life has also been like this.My eyes are tired and I feel like sinking into deep slumber.

I am sick,I am alone,walking along the way the silent streets are making a loud call..Alas he is still walking. I pass the milestone on my eerie path of life with pebbles at every curve to hurt me. The autumn leaves murmuring the tales of my life.

I see the darkness covering me, find the chilled air piercing my bones.Yet the stings are sweeter than the flashbacks which always breaks free from my heart and memories.

I hear the cry of a longing mother rising from the dark walls.I feel like sleeping but the fear of nightmares haunt me.I feel the vaccum all aroung me and realize the lonliness as I walk along the graves reading the canotaph.I find an empty stone at my own grave again making a laugh at me.

Yes doctor I get this dream over and over again.

I looked at her , she was smiling.

Hey ! No Avik I am not the doctor I am just a student of Dr Rajeshwari.

You just need to wake up,smile and follow the light and by the way I am Sneha Sharma. She gave me a cute pink paper with " Get Well Soon,I am waiting for you...All the best " written on it. She was cute,barely in her early twenties and I am confused.

I could see her going away but her voice and giggles were still livening up my spirits.Now it seemed that everything else has stopped and the fear for the life has gone somewhere.

Mr Saxena.... Mr Saxena ...........Mrrrrrrrrr Saxenaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa the voice of compunder Chandu seemed like a disturbing noise for me and I ignored it to follow her towards the lamp post.

I can now taste the juice in the fresh showers and feel the drops penetrating my flesh.I can still find the paper carrying a wish for my happy life; the golden ink indeliable from the nature's shower or even my tears can't wash it off.

I can hear the call,come on,rise and walk along with me with a hand appearing from the dense fog. We were walking hand in hand with the rainbow forming a welcome arch for us.

Trrrriiinggggggggggggggggg......thakkkkk thaaaakkkkkk. Sahab darwaaja kholo aapka courier hai I heard an ugly voice.

Please sign karo saab!!! Jaldi karo 10 min se knock kar raha hoon.... his irritation was quite visible.

I stood at the door. Still perplexed .....was it a dream ???? I was able to remember every detail of it...and wished again if it had been a reality.

The first envelope read- " Dear Mr Saxena you are our new project lead for US.

The second wished me "Happy Birthday" from my beloved.

"Kya hai beta ??? Kyaaaaaaaaaa US mein job...... I saw respect in the eyes of Maneka Aunty for the first time in my life.

I closed the door and saw the picture of my beloved in my cell phone. When I slid the phone in my pocket I still had the pink slip saying " Get Well Soon,I am waiting for you...All the best ".