I Am

I am…

A shadow of the past journey,

A reflection of future life.

Carved with strokes of pain and smiles,

A soul learning intricacies every time.

Defining new dimensions,

Growing along with failures and falls.

Scared, tired, teary, at times,

Gaining strength as time flies.

Discovering my shades surprising enough

Embracing a new me as life goes on.

Love of Freedom

   Love of Freedom

Manju was 14 years old, but smart, matured enough for her age. Only child and immensely loved by her parents. She had come here in Bangalore with her mother to attend a cousins wedding. Like every young girl experiencing puberty, she was thrilled and excited about the whole wedding drama. Besides she herself got the chance to dress up and look her best, which is loved. Only thing always bothered her was the story that followed once the ceremonies were over. Today again she started shooting her mom with questions or rather thoughts pondering in her young brain.

“Mom why dose a girl has to leave her parents and start a new life. what about her other dreams? How can one suddenly stop dreaming about unfulfilled wishes and start a new journey? Will she be happy, if she never gets a chance to fulfill her ambitions?

“Manju stop blabbering. Your cousin is well educated and married in a good family. she will have no trouble their and she will continue her work like she is been doing now. Above all Shikha loves Arun so it’s nothing against her wishes.”

Manju couldn’t relate to anything what her mom was trying to tell. And that very moment sub consciously she had decided she won’t get married, until her dreams are fulfilled. Her dreams to travel the world and see places which she had just seen in brochures. Manju’s dad was a travel agent, planning beautiful journeys, holidays. All her life Manju had seen pictures of beautiful mountains, mysterious valleys, crystal clear oceans and breathtaking architectures. She knew how beautiful the world was and how vast it was and how much less life we have all have to explore the enigmatic world.

Manju grew up into a smart young woman, with qualities that would lure any man. Beautiful, polite, soft spoken. Her parents were always proud of her, no reasons to complain, they had worked hard to provide her the best they could and educate her to make her independent. Manju on other hand always had secretly nurtured her desire of travel. Now she was 22, an engineer, working in MNC and earning pretty well, but along with all these dreams of her parents she had educated herself to be able to travel confidently. Numerous books depicting culture, traditions, facts she had browsed. she had self-educated herself and could speak French and German, not fluently but good enough to have a conversation.

Like any middle class family, her parents were now worried to find a suitable groom for her. They brought up the concern to her. But Manju had a different plan for herself. She had planned every year she would save enough to explore one new destination. She knew no matter how much her parents loved her, they would never understand this absurd arrangement.  She loved her parents, but getting married or getting involved with someone that was not going to make her happy. Her happiness was to explore places to travel those destinations which she had always seen on paper.

 

Was she childish, immature? Was she wrong to hurt her parents whom she loved more than anyone else in world? She had no answers, but she knew what will bring peace to her soul. She at least had to give herself the chance, her dreams to blossom. She knew getting tied up in a relation at this stage would not define whom she wants to be and what she wants to do. A relation at this stage seemed like just shunning her growth as a person. To work to earn and to settle with someone is just not all a souls need to truly experience the essence of living a human life.

 

Manju decided to be the disobedient daughter. She decided to choose the life which she always wanted to, since she was a kid. She opted her freedom of will. Her behavior was shocking and heartbreaking for everyone in the family including herself. The grief, sadness, despair in eyes of her parents was intolerable but so was to sacrifice her dreams.

Years passed and Manju achieved high ranks in her work and was placed on an overseas project. In these 5 years she had travelled to 5 amazing destinations. Living overseas had helped her too, a distance from her dejected parents. Manju called them regularly, visited them but deep down she knew how shattered they were with her choice of life style. But Manju’s love for travel had not diminished a bit. In fact, meeting new people, experiencing cultures and visiting breathtaking scenery, had baffled Manju more. She had experienced a peace and calmness within her more beautiful than she had imagined.

Her friends’ often questioned her why dose her love for travel had stopped her getting into any relation. But Manju too didn’t have any definite answer. It wasn’t that she never had any soft corner for any man. She had been close to few men in her life but not close enough or attached enough to give up her dream. Besides she never felt the need for anyone to travel with her conquering her dreams. These were her desires and fantasies, that had shaped since her childhood and now life had given her the opportunity to fulfill them.

It was her 6th new destination she had planned Monte Carlo. Like always she called her mom to inform where she will be in 2 weeks’ time, her mom sighed like always advised her to take life seriously and stop living a nomad’s life. Like always Manju just chuckled and ended the call with an excuse of work. Manju’s story of every new destination started on same note. A huge guilt to rebel her parents dream and selfish bitterness of her own will. She decided to head off to nearby pub to brush off all the unpleasant thoughts.

It was noon, empty pub, she was the only customer. There was a man, may be in late 20’s, with a guitar, sitting where usually the pub’s band played.  As Manju ordered a drink, he interrupted her.

“It’s seems to be your lucky day mam, so what would you like to hear.”

Only if she could tell how lucky she was feeling after having a not so good conversation with her mom. How lucky she was feeling once again, when all the emotions of hurting whom she loved most, hit you again every time with a greater intensity. Yes, how lucky she was feeling in this journey to her dreams, feeling weaker every time she spoke to her parents and stronger again when her soul touches her dreams. Luck yes may be that’s what was missing.

Manju smiled “Thanks. Play what you love to play the most.”

Pleasantly surprised the man played a ballad, lovely interesting, but which Manju had never heard of. But anyways the genre of music was always unknown to her. The man finished the song and approached Manju “thanks a lot”

“What for, I should thank you for playing the music for me”

“Thanks for asking me to play what I love. Thanks for giving me a chance to play one of my own compositions”

“That was a beautiful piece. Sorry I am no music lover, but I liked what you played”

“Thanks again. I think it’s my lucky day today. Can I buy you a drink?”

 

Manju wanted some means to divert herself from her guilt and what could be better than a conversation with an absolute stranger. She agreed.

Sam was British a struggling musician. Trying to make a mark in one of the world’s most competitive industry. They spoke about music and about travel, his love and her love. Both ignorant about each other’s strive, but both living life’s with the same passion.

Manju returned back to work next day more refreshed. A chat with a stranger had helped her heal in some way.  She felt a bit less guilty about her choices in life, more confident about getting carried away by her dreams. She couldn’t stop thinking about the stranger for whole day, how a person as passionate as her can make such a big difference in life. She wanted to meet him again, spent some more time sharing more about herself, knowing more about him, more than anything to experience the same pleasant silence within her when she was with him.

Again that day she visited the pub, hoping to see him. He too was there, may be for same reasons like her. And so followed many more days. The wounds of their struggle were soothed when they were with each other. The strength of their character impressed each other. Manju never could imagine she would be pulled towards someone so unconventional as compared to her background. But she too had never lived a conventional life so far. Two people with two different cultures, two varied dreams but so easily gelled, why? Destiny what new lesson did it want to teach?

Love happens in mysterious ways. You find love in most unexpected places. And you realize it when your soul stops searching for anything more in life. When you suddenly feel amazingly happy with the same life which one seemed so boring, dull and full of struggle. Same was the state of Manju’s mind. Suddenly all the pain and shards of blunt words she was carrying so far, seemed to disappear, with his presence.

 

For the first time Manju decided to cancel her travel plans for someone with whom she wished to spent more time. Sam loved Manju dearly. He needed her, in no time she had become his strength. Manju never imagined how a man would be able to captivate her more than her love of travel. But love always happens, once in a life time. And when it does it truly the most beautiful, divine vibe two people share. It’s so difficult to define this vibe. It changes every belief, every assumption and erases every conditioning of mind.

But how long we can live in this vibe that’s always the defining moment. Life again throws choices when you have to choose between love and something else equally important. And then again we choose to choose a new freedom of will, it doesn’t mean the vibe had disappeared or was fake, it’s just a new freedom our heart wants to live, try. Sam had yet his dreams to fulfill completely. Settling down with love of his life meant, not completely exploring, giving his dreams a chance too. And who else better than Manju could understand this. She too had hurt those whom she loved most, who where her world, just to experience her dreams.

May be after years they realize what their hearts need yearn for. But what is life without taking risks, to follow the freedom of your will.

 

Precious Sensation

Precious Sensation

A feeling which makes you smile as you look at the night skies, shining with stars with a half crescent moon. Then you speak in your thoughts, can you see the skies, my love. I wish you were with me now, lying down with me on these sands spread far and wide, looking at the twinkling lights. Just you and me, sharing no promises, no dreams, no future life plans, lying quietly with this feeling which connects us both. Is this what they say is pure love. We don’t know, we will never know may be. May be tomorrow will separate us, may be a new day will ruin all what we have today. I know all this, but still thought with you seems so truly beautiful.

And then you just stare at the sky alone, taking a deep sigh. imagining a time with that person, who was never besides you, which may never will happen, but still you feel the presence so strong within you. And you know, at the end of all the beautiful thoughts, it will bring a lot of pain with it, but still you want to imagine the times which would be so divinely beautiful with just that one person.

An emotional ride which sets you on a journey in a world so different, with no mundane routine, no enforced protocols, no responsibilities to carry on, no bitterness of any kind, no negativity to bring you down. Just that one person beside you, holding your hand and that’s all and you walk in stride.  With whom sunsets look mesmerizing then they could ever before, whose slight tap on your shoulder brushes of all the worries and grief. Is this true love?

May be it is. A feeling than cleanses your soul, freeing you from all comprehensions, and leaves you feeling so empty yet so enriched with purity, connecting you again back to your beginning, unscarred, innocent, serene, taking everything away from you, stripping away the you from you.

Forget Me Not

…Forget Me Not…

This love

will always be alive within me

No matter how hard it hits

No matter how it destroys me

This feeling within me will be safe

Without any expectation

Without any hope

Like a morning dew drop

Safe on a thorn

It will be unharmed

By storms of any kind

A fool I will be called

For all this craziness

Guarding an emotion

Whose colors , in you,withered, lost gone

And after my last breath

You will sing this song for me

This love was so alive

Always in me

Unharmed, beautiful, insane.

 

Free Fall

…Free Fall…

This journey imaginary

I want to keep sailing

Falling freely into the depths

Which help me to survive

All the pain, all the sorrow

I pass away all the shallowness

Embracing the silence

With this free fall

Lightness never sensed

Falling, yet never felt so afloat

No fear of getting destroyed

Immortal, whatever left of me

How deep into soul it takes me, let’s see

A dimension of me never seen

A free fall, breathing a life

Never imagined, pain would be beautiful

A journey, not planned

A fall which I have enjoyed, enjoying

I guess till eternity…….

 

Unwired Soul

Unwired Soul

Many years ago, on Indian television a serial used to be broadcasted every week. It was called “Mungerilal ke Haseen Sapne”. It was a comedy serial, popular, the protagonist much loved by viewers. “Mungerilal” that was his name, the main character. A simpleton. An honest hardworking, commoner. Living an absolutely boring life, with a 9 to 5 job, married, had a nagging wife, a father in law who criticized him for everything and a boss working for whom was no pleasure but just a necessity of life.

That was basically Mungerilal’s life, nothing exciting, nothing thrilling, just flavorless in all respects. Deep down Mungerilal hoped to escape this daily grind and accomplish a life, where he is a hero, respected by all, loved and cared by wife, living a life where there is no room for sorrow, no haplessness, never ever feeling like a loser. But it was beyond his capacities, courage, to escape the fangs of his cruel reality, facts of his life.

The only way he could live life like a Casanova, pumped with machoism, adored by society, was by day dreaming. And that’s what he did. Every episode of the serial was Mungerilal’s virtuality, depicting his day dream story, sabotaging his reality. At the end of each episode Mungerilal was humiliated, ill-treated for wasting, missing one more day for no productivity, sacrificed to his love of day dreaming. But Mungerilal the fool he was, didn’t mind any of that, because the pacification of virtual pleasure was worth more than his boring realistic life. A life where he had given up all hopes of achieving or feeling any good. That was an era when people loved watching “Mungerilal” and laughed at his foolish attitude towards life, and now we all a generation who more or less are happier content in our life of “Virtuality”.

The storyline of the serial was similar to short story “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty’”. “Walter Mitty’” fictional character whose life revolves around similar day dreaming concepts. And so is the term ‘Mittyesque” derived from “Walter Mitty’” commonly used to denote a person, who lives a life disconnected from reality, spending more time in virtuality. “Deleuze” the French postmodern thinker, who explains “virtuality” so well. Virtuality” a dimension of life which is nowhere close to reality but allures a person to an extend where one starts despising the actual framework of life.

How different are we to “Mungerilal” or “Walter Mitty’”? May it be social network, or some trendy games, applications, we are trying to derive the zing of our unfulfilled desires through virtual platforms. Our Virtual relationships progress fast and strong, as it’s not tied with any real day to day harsh, practical cycles of life. And we like “Mungerilal” are so subsumed by the these virtuality energy spikes, leading us to condemn, find faults, magnify shortcomings and eventually mess up our real elements of life.

It’s like a trance mode we all are living in. Incapable of changing or fixing the things that worry and trouble us in reality. An escape mechanism, where we feel soothed, with “The Virtuality”. Pretending to be naïve, acting ignorant, we willingly surrender to such virtuality every day, in some way, and then complain life’s too complicated. The longevity of such virtual connections, we believe is forever, may be after a decade, realization will hit us hard and then it might be too late, no reality to suffice, to survive.

 

Chocolate Addictions

Chocolate Addictions

Typical story nothing new. She was my mate in school; Nothing special between us two. Schooling years ended; So did our acquaintances. Never a thought of her bothered me in any way. So was she I guess; happy and content without me.

Years later, I met her in our neighborhood. A cute little shop she owned, I was surprised to see the fine chocolatier she had learned to be. As such I didn’t really relish chocolates, on friend’s insistence I had been to the shop, to placate in some unique creations she had crafted. Crunchy nutty flavors to aromatic flower palates, I tried almost every gourmet chocolate preparation she had perfected.

I don’t really know what frequented my visits to her, was it the temptations of delicate chocolates she created or the warmth my heart felt, when together we chatted. In her eyes I could see the passion for her work, in her voice I could feel the spirit of her dreams, she always smelt of sweet indulgences, and her touch was always so tantalizing to all my senses. My regular meets with her, was definitely turning me to a hopeless chocoholic.

What she liked about me, I can only say  lady luck was being kind to me. She once told, I was different than all others she had met in life. A man with a kind heart, smart with an infectious smile. A man who made her smile for no reason. I never knew I had all these traits. But to hear from her was like winning all battles of life. A smart woman she was, her judgments, made me proud a bit. Our growing closeness was changing me in so many aspects, I never imagined.

It had been a year since we had met. So was the first anniversary of her shop “Sweet Connections’. We decided to celebrate it quietly, privately, under the skies vastness and close to oceans mightiness. A bottle of champagne and some handmade chocolates, watching the beautiful sunset, life seemed so complete, with all emptiness erased. We kissed, we loved, we completed our togetherness. Playfully, she teased me, I took a bite of chocolate from her mouth, the bitterness of dark chocolate as it melted, never tasted so good. When I held her unclad, running my fingers from her bosom to navel, around her waist, I could hear her heart throb and then then she would pull me close to her, moving her hands across my back, caressing my neck, nibbling my earlobe and moisten my lips with tip of her tongue. Romancing as you love, is what I learned from her.

 

Years have passed, her shop’s still there, now famous for the best chocolates of the town. Lucky man her husband is. I hope he never gets addicted to her sweetness like I did. An addiction that changed me to aggressive possessive lover, scaring the relation with bitterness, spoiling my every beautiful dream.