Whenever they sat for tea…

A bluebird passed by chirping for the lost words….

Who looked up first?…..of course He !

Radhika……..

It was another lazy Saturday afternoon and I sat staring at myself in the old mirror I had bought thinking it looked contemporary … I liked looking at the hair which had grown long enough to appear as a part of my clothes…….

There was nothing much to do….dishes slept lying in the sink and I had negligible intentions to do them….I sighed thinking to myself yet another holiday wasted wondering….

The radio played CARPENTERS….

I guess summers kind of intensify the laziness…but I knew I had to get up rather than sitting like an old potato I was becoming….

“Huh ! I need to find my denims…”

And then the only potted plant (I had) a tiny one, fell from the window sill…. CROW …

And at such times even being a vegetarian I felt like frying him!

ARTHUR….my poor tiny baby…I needed another pot …so I shooed away the crow and kept it at a side, making a mental note of my shopping list…marking the pot as urgent.

And then I stood hanging from the window the way I used to back home in school days, looking at the local sellers passing by and telling maa about the menu of the afternoons – onions, tomato, the cotton scarves, papads, mangoes, cotton candies and what not…

The window was the only source of entertainment in the apartment on such an afternoon…. The world outside was busy in itself…bathing in sunshine…and I questioned myself was it just me clad up in retarded laziness…!

I wondered yes, for I needed that warm sunshine filling my bones…and myself with orange – yellowish love….

And there I saw him sitting on the YELLOW CHAIR… reading newspaper probably the sports section…for the way he was lost in it…..Had to be sports…

I could see the strong frame…fixed firmly on the wooden chair…the gray-black hair waving hello to passer-bys… And suddenly I felt a need of rushing downstairs…to the homers café …to that particular yellow chair…

I picked my faded denims…and the purple Elvis tee… I still looked shabby…but I couldn’t wear the gown or the sari mom couriered last month to tell him on his face.. “MR. I came dressed up for you”

I applied a little kajal and petroleum jelly… and just kept the hair open…falling like water cascading down….I believe I take proud in this.

I rushed through the stairs…two at a time….tripping over the ‘very’ brown cat that slept by the side… and some invisible chords…

And then there I was…looking at him across the road…I held my breath…I didn’t had a clue what to say when I go there…and meanwhile a bunch of school girls passed on their bicycles- I bought time to rehearse…but in vain….slowly I crossed the road…sat on a chair to his right and ordered a black coffee… I couldn’t stare; I couldn’t say a word…

I could just give side glances…fiddling with my fingers…the top of the table and sometimes my hair..making curls out of them….

KRISHNEN

 I sat quietly at homers café reading the sports section of daily journal… waiting for my coffee…and I saw her crossing the road.. wearing denims..and a ill-fitted purple t-shirt..which said Elvis..with golden sparkle…..which era did she lived in?

I mean who practically wears Elvis that too in golden shine…. her waist length hair running loose in air..Like a washer man’s clothes..Hanging on the poles back in India….well those shiny black hair…did deserved some real applause…

She looked nervous by the way she bit her lip now and then…staring at the far end…and don’t know why thanking the bunch of school girls that passed on their bicycles…

She crossed the road ignoring me looking at peter’s dog… peter is the owner of homers (- for if you don’t know him), and he brings his dog Rufus to the café at times…or we can say whenever he is thrown out by his wife –  as the waitress told once while flirting with me…

well her name is shiba…and she is quite old, just to let ease your judgments about me and her…she is old..yet too pretty…and to my amusement she loves playing with my hair and  spoiling them as she passes by. She says I look like David…her son..only I am a little more arrogant.

I smelled musk as she passed through….and yes a nervous glare too, she was beautiful…in a very peculiar manner….not adorned…not pretty….but beautiful….

She sat at a chair to the right…and ordered black coffee… why on earth someone orders black coffee…how could you love it without the sweetness of sugar…I remember Amma hating even the idea of black coffee, before I shifted here… Day and night she was worried about the food…what would I eat and stuff…

I turned back for a fraction of seconds to take a glance….the dusky skin of hers glowed like wonderland….

She looked at me..I could sense it…her shy self…fiddling with the fingers..playing tabla with the rosewood table and trying her best to ignore me…

My coffee arrived with hers… and she didn’t even smiled… I decided I would never make a move…let alone the smile…the arrogance I could never handle…

She asked for the newspaper and a pencil…. A lead pencil why?  Okay she wanted to fill the word puzzle…and on getting it she filled Shiba with an advice “you should keep these in refrigerator, they write pretty well then”.

I started sipping my coffee looking at her long black hairs dancing in air…and touching the invisible chords she played in my mind….

RADHIKA

Should I ? or shouldn’t I ? I didn’t knew how to start a conversation… how to say hello… what was I supposed to do..go to him.. and say “Hello..I saw you from my window..you look ravishing…that I want to smell your hair..can I ?”

agrh !!

I hated myself… I couldn’t even say hello…such pathetic times !

I looked at the peter’s dog again…even he could say hello to him, if he wanted…

All it had to do was wag his tail…did I wished for a detachable tail?

Huh… I couldn’t get a single word in the puzzle except moron! Or I managed to fit it at a place …

I sipped my coffee…and kept on giving side glances… and suddenly as if I was blessed with an idea…I felt a jolt at my table for peter was getting this huge cupboard being shifted in the café, probably to keep the crockery or the apple pies they always ran short of…and the boys who carried it..were practically hitting everything they saw in their way…

I stood up holding my coffee in one hand..and the news-paper and the lead pencil in other. And I rushed to him, preventing myself to fall over him …

“would you mind, me joining you… I can’t drink a coffee if it is spilled all over the table…”

“ yes sure ! please”

So there I was sitting in front of him, rather with him. Gazing at the black brown eyes…

He carelessly picked up his mug and drank….flipping pages of the newspaper…

What a waste of time…couldn’t he just stop looking at the newspaper… !!

I banged the table with my cup…managing not to let the coffee spill….

KRISHNEN

She came to me…and asked to join… okay may be I was not correct about the arrogance. Or I guess I should thank the fat teenage boys who carried the ancient looking  cupboard in the café.

I couldn’t stop looking at her…and it might have been too much to stare…so I kept looking into the newspaper… the black eyes, they were captivating…

I never looked at what was written…but I kept facing it… I could smell her shampoo from across the table…

Her almond moisturizer…and the freshness she brought…

It was almost impossible to concentrate… I held my gaze on the paper…

And then she banged her mug on the table…

She could have started the conversation herself… how she could think I was not paying attention when all that was in my mind was her. I could sense a sort of helpless irritation on her face.

RADHIKA AND KRISHNEN

Krishnen:  “sorry, I was just looking into something”

Radhika:   “oh please.. I accidently placed the cup.. I am sorry”

Krishnen:  “so do you come here regularly”

Radhika:   “yes I pass by almost daily… and coffee is a subject of argument here”

Krishnen:  “Argument! I guess I didn’t get you”

Radhika:   “well that’s an old conversation me and m husband have had zillion of times: he thinks, my taste in coffee is nascent  …And here at homers I should try the one his mother used to make back home”

Krishnen:  “may be, he just wants you to try it”

Radhika:   “yes may be, and maybe he thinks he is too cool to run out of house alone..Leaving me wondering, if he ran away with someone else”

Krishnen:  “No doubt you  women are so thoughtful.. ! maybe, he just needed a cup of coffee “

Radhika: “see ! Coffee.. I have ample of it in my kitchen, and he doesn’t even has to pay for it”

Krishnen:  “may be some peace of mind….. “

Radhika:  “peace of mind ! yeah yeah…no wonder you men are a bunch of selfish chauvinism ….what about my peace of mind… don’t I need it, especially when my favorite cat was thrown away..!”

Krishnen:  “then may be more interesting women… you know like the one standing at the bus stop..I guess she doesn’t has issues about love of a pet cat”

Radhika:  “oh! Mr. Krishnen Swami ..What do think you are the only one doing sit-ups of jogs… and forget that lame female at bus-stop she definitely needs a healthy diet! “

Krishen:  “yes the very healthy diet you deprive me of”

Radhika:  “I deprive you of nothing….“

Krishnen:  “yeah, yeah I am too mesmerized by your culinary skills “

Radhika  :  “okay I am sorry about the dinner… but I love Jo…he is like family seriously… don’t you think it’s too lame to sit here and argue about it… I even kept spaghetti in the pan”

Krishnen:  “well sure, but it’s Me who kept the spaghetti in the pan..and also if you are ready to get rid of that stupid ugly cat…your brother purrs at me like a goblin every time I come near you.”

Radhika:  “don’t call him ugly and he is out of house now, and lets go soon, I have to buy veggies thus we will be going to roger’s “

Krishnen:  “Oh boy! No…..no roger any more, that dumb ass called me uncle and he is so super nice to you..we need to change the grocery store, and we need to settle for it now!”

Radhika:  “Oh c’mon he is an old man…not in his senses”

Krishnen: “that is why…!”

Radhika:   “And also you don’t have to wear my Dad’s coat on Nilisha’s wedding party, I talked to him”

Krishnen:  “Are you sure, he won’t get sentimental and stuff…as I have to read the newspaper”

Radhika:  “krishnen….. !!”

Krishnen:  “what ! I am not wearing it for god’s sake!”

Radhika:  “yes you are not… Amma has couriered baba’s and she wants to see your photographs on that….and I am planning to cook your favorite vanilla custard.”

- for he hated the Baba’s even more……

For they lived fighting…arguing…making up…loving as the kids they were

For each time he is thrown out of the house…he sits on the yellow chair.. and she catches him from that window…well it’s not just for the crows…  :)

“the curtains were drawn….and yet the shimmering sunlight crept it….even da tiniest matter danced and glimmered golden….and she sat with her hands on her knees…her locks curling up da warmth in them…and her eyes fixed on the dream…. a drummer somewhere played….and she knew…the part was not over yet…..for they say…winters ! ask for a hell lot of warmth….and where on earth both of dem wud find it….except in the shabby invisible chord pulling dem together…..making the world  ashamed of its idiocy…………”

Walking thru da dark alleys

    And smelling the old rum

He stares at the golden cat

     And wonders about his own freedom.

The walls are painted with thy red

    They say it’s some rotten custom

He leans on the old mahogany wall

     Hiding from his own phantom

And den on some shabby window

     Shines something behind yellow curtain

He looks up hoping for something

      As you would it too if lonesome

They say rest is mystery unknown

      And if you ask, they’ll make you mum

I just heard a singing bird saying

      He resents da paints now and gets glum

A lot of tyms I walk thru dark alleys

       And I too can smell da old rum

But I never stare that golden cat or shabby window

        and I defeat my phantom………..

---Vaishanvi-- for purple was her favorite as purple was didi's favorite

I stand at the window-sill…

and stare at the world so still

the horses are no more pink….

and no more tumbling jack and jill

sleeping!  are all the princess’….

and all the bunnies lost in the book-case

i stared at the empty skies…. 

thinking of snowfall thru the fireplace

my tweed jacket is small and old…

and yes in its pocket are two tickets unsold

to the fair they had in the park…

and i didnt go as mamma did scol

the magic button beneath my pillow….

it lies inside the bottle that was painted yellow

for i was taught to dream everything i could..

and then all i could was always being willow

then i had a rainbow in my cupboard….

a box of magic which was red bordered

a pair of flying shoes…

and one-eyed dog with which i wandered

still far away from giving up…

i look at you thinking of when u’ll be a little grown up

i’ll be sitting somewhere smiling for, you painting the skies...

and to great expeditions you’ll be boarding your shallop

there will be a rainbow in your cupboard…

and we’ll get a magic box  and flying shoes which will be purple colored

for you’ll be taught to dream everything you can…

and trust me your can will be just about being willow…………………

pallavi

I will just call her She…for I don’t know her name. And I don’t want to give her a name. No, nothing would be appropriate, but I am sure that her name, whatever it may be…would be like sweetness to ears. It would be like music, lyrics so written having stories in it.

I saw her first when she was clad in all white, reading a book, with sky blue cover. So much I tried to peek for the name of the book but in vain…. Her curls were tied tightly into a short pony tail, and some locks touching her cheeks.

That is how she wears her hair most of the days. A thin silver beaded chain on her neck. A watch in her right hand just the way I do.

Every day we meet at the same station, although she is merely aware of my sole existence. Every day she sits at the left… don’t know why. And I love striving to have a seat so that I can look at her.

She wears  a silver ring with a ruby in just the “RIGHT” finger…. Yeah I know she has a name followed by her own. The other day I saw her with him. He came to drop her, and waved goodbye, and my oh my…. the sparkle in her eyes.

If you think I am worried or sad…trust me I am not. I don’t intend to talk, or to know her. Nor I want her to know me……..

It’s just when I look at her, there is this smile coming on my face. The peace I get just by watching her……..it’s like having my personal brand of godliness…

And then I wonder…..I wonder what she reads…what she likes…. What is the music she listens to. Which is her favorite song? She prefers jazz or classical…..

Everything just keeps on playing in my mind….

Yesterday I saw the shiny little nose-pin she wears. And the way it glitters even more when she smiled coyly to her book.

Her hair are turning a little grey…and that gives her curly head a tint of black brown and grey….and this makes spiral patterns on her head..as if a careless arrogant painter stroked the brush while he was thinking of lost love…

She looks abruptly at people chatting and the trees dancing in wind when the train passes by them…I do that too. I know, it’s like making mental notes, of what you read, of what you feed your mind with.

She doesn’t talk much I suppose…she just shifts gently when anyone asks her to give space. She holds her bag close to her. And she is always lost into some thoughts. And yes, she never looks at me, even when I sit in-front of her…even when I fight with people for that very space…even when my irritation is quite traceable on my face if I don’t get to see her….

And this makes me think of an imaginary fight, I can just come up with the lame excuse in my mind….that we had a silly argument over things not being in the right place in room…and then she has stopped talking to me. All I would need is to strike a stupid joke and throw the yellow smiley ball at her…and she would giggle again…

I think of sadder times, is she the same then, does she cry? or she just sits silently talking to herself…how I die to know everything going on in her mind…every dream she has had….

How much I want to sit next to her at times, gazing into infinity……

Then I think of the lives we have, so apart… like day and night and yet intertwined… for I know the rush I get each day to take the same train..to board in the same coach…to have a look… to smell the musk when she walks inside along with other women….it kills me at times…

I think of the coffee she drinks….does she likes it sweetened or she likes it hard, black like me…I think of her birthday…I believe she was born in spring…for the infectious, enigmatic shine in her eyes…definitely a woman born in spring…and then at times I picture wishing her on her birthday…what would I take for her ?

Pink roses…the real light shaded ones…they would suit her best…or the white lilles………..

I think of the time when she returns back from work…how does she look then?

I think of the curls running loose, kissing her eyes and cheek at times…I think of a little ruby shining in the silver chain she wear…I think of her all clad in shades of yellow for I have never seen her in yellow.

I think of the warm winters coming ahead..me clutching her hand tight while crossing the road to have a cup of hot coffee in the café across the street…

I think of the summers…of sitting amongst the wild flowers eating pancakes sitting on a bench…our legs dangling…

I think of filthy monsoon….herself drenched…and her hair all wet…her umbrella not being a good friend…her eyes looking out for me…and her irritated self…which will be soothed by a fluffy towel…an over sized shirt…ginger tea…Chinese dinner and a good song….

I think of autumns…when at times she is not happy…when a little drops falls out at the side of her ears…and when I realize I have not been a great man…when I need to let the breeze come in the house…when we need to look into the old stuff from mom’s,packed and kept in the uppermost shelf…’the old frames…the stickers…the one legged monkey’… and all that could make her smile…and then she would  hop from bed like a child..Insisting that we need to paint the house again…new colors….

I think of life…I think of immense happiness… I think of lousy sadness… I think of sleep when she cuddles her pillow and smiles …..I think of early lazy mornings…

I think of rushed breakfast…skipped lunch…and dinners with dim lights and lots of talks…I think of kitchen smelling of all the spices she experiments with…I think of sleepless nights spent in weaving dreams…making pictures in sky out of our tattered fingers…

I think of her………..

I don’t want to go and talk to her…..I don’t want anything….

But to the lady who wore grey shirt and blue denims today…who had her curls tied to a ponytail high…who had a sky blue book in her hand…who smells of musk…who wanders in my mind….

“You are beautiful….”

I just wish you read this…and know it is for you……

Yours… for I am not even sure of that..

The guy who loves watching you drop your book at times…and picking it up..calling yourself silly..

so this time i spare the good souls from the romance era…(well i have just a few readers..cannot afford to lose them u knw ..although i am still craving to put up another poem..

I know..the basic question in each mind wud be..COME TO THE POINT !!!

well lets be clear there is no point this time….nothing..i am empty-headed looking at things nd imagining a world..and bet you am pretty creative with this..that at a point in my life i had this weird invisible sibling…hawwww…spooky

the major part of the day was spent sleeping..nd here by day i am referring to the time when there is natural sun light..”the day-time”…yes yes i sleep at day..as i work in night..the bloody job..my last week of night shift..attending to these Hulk sized servers..(i am boasting..i work via remote consoles :p) …just some 10 days till i get my relieving letter and i say some goodbyes..nd a farewell(i would love to have a nice lunch) …nd then a much awaited journey..nd new work

so as i said..major part of the day went sleeping..den the daily cleaning rituals..a glass of tea at noon..yes A GLASS !!.. cant have bournvita or coffee in navratra’s you know..

watched some idiotic television…sundays are the worst days to spend infront of t.v.. they aired crazy movies…out of which i could just select ‘WANTED’ and ‘GHOSTS OF GIRLFRIEND’s PAST’ …nd yupp  ’JUMAJI’ which my younger sister didn’t let me..so some 20-30 odd minutes..nd i got bored…wrote a letter…nd stick closed it twice to reach perfection..which i didnt..scratched head…went through the book shelf..picked up the board of ludo…aaahh the old days.. nd thus a little game..which i won hahaha !!!! …ooops something slipped out of my mind..the weather was amazing..was hoping for a shower..even prayed ..for a shower and a call..none came

had a conversation with DAD and Sister..which was about naming an imaginary dog…i intend to pet after my classes at pune..weird family i know..wait for more.. the names selected were… “CHANGEZ KHAN” , “RANJEET” , “GANDHAARI” , “SIKANDAR” , “KUTTA” … dats was way more weird for sure…but thats how the family functions…

then the supper..some pakodas..nd eating till i felt i would faint… then the era of singing all sort of songs..which infected each of us..i guess dad was spared…nd it all started with “mere sapno ki rani” with me and mom singing… nd then.. the devanand’s hits.. nd some dance numbers…it was in the food people…!!!

then a visit to a ‘FETE’.. there was this combined school fete happening..had the passes..hence the visit..although it was quite a thing..which youngs dressed up nd drooling..messaging friends..frolicking..chatting..dance performances…meeting mom’s students…nd what not.. the Kulfi !!..the zebra printed balloons..the games and stalls..

a drive back home..i hate to drive at busy roads when u need to keep it just to 40, and i hate people putting HIGH BEAMS… please note..kindly avoid this..it makes drivers blind..and i scare up my mom..

got back home at 9, the cab was waiting…nd thus i office..place i dread to come..

meeting the girls..HOW !! well my work team has majority of girls.. 9 girls (raji m counting in u here,,i knw u will be reading this..else i’ll force u too..cuz i dun lyk the bar charts they show about reading stats-going low)

see some dance of ‘Jitendra’ on youtube, even ‘Dharamendra’.. weird ‘er’ team…see i cannot help it..i am surrounded by a generation of weird Souls

then the handover -work…logging in to facebook..getting happy coz the last poem was appreciated….checking mails..winding up the shift’s work in half an hour..setting up f.r.i.e.n.d.s to buffer…have watched 4 episodes by now..m eager to complete the write up..chandler is back with janice..nd cruel it is

have a cup of tea..i still go to 2nd floor to get it..Reasons !! <3  :P :*

read HT…sunday’s weekly horoscope..which was hopeful then the editorials..which has been my favorite section since i remember reading news paper…a tiny article by khushwant singh was joyful..which inspired me to do dis torture… this man is witty guys..he writes sense..he writes brainy and you can enjoy reading him all season..

returning back i heard slamming of a door, some guy came out of somewhere. just behind me.. nd i try imagining a story where a girl is being stalked ..nd then she turns super hero kinds…I have been watching Vampire Diaries season 2..so its kind of in my mind these days..nd for a relief i am more obsessed with witch craft then vampires…i turned a VEG this January..keeping it …

i get back to blue chair..browse about princess LEIA..i dun know why..check mails..buffer another episode..browse about OTA, imagine things..like the days in pune..the classes…the kids..the dates..a trip to chennai…savings i need to start..m bankrupt right now..then some songs by ‘mohit chauhan’, ‘bill withers’, ‘norah jones’ ,..list would be long..for people who are missing something or someone..go for “HERE WITHOUT YOU” by ’3 Doors Down’ …heck of a song..!!

then again some more thinking..yawning..wondering about loads….listening to snore in the neighbor cubicle..staring at the wall papers…nd the world is asleep..atleast some of it is…

I wrote this…didnt revised much..was feeling lazy..nd felt that nothing came out of it..lyk..moral of the story nd all.. bt have been tying..nd due to sprain my left wrists aches..thus i just cant keep it drafted..so here i push the publish button in a while..

its an average day..which i started by clutching my phone tightly and praying endlessly for it to turn out  miraculous and super… bt loved it..

Cuz you dont meet each day…you cannot be seen..but yes the lives are touched….

Pallavi

Time as it flew away…time dat s waiting to come..nd of course the time wen v sit idle , jobless doing nothing bt  thinking …

So here I am…sitting idle..having a bottle of chilled water..staring me..an empty stomach..nd some mushy love songs in the back ground…hence the thinking …well I am not letting the empty growling stomach win so she is being ignored nd I’ll blabber again…

Well I don’t have a love story of fairy tale genre…so bear !! also being dormant for quite sometime, qualifies me with privilege to blabber some more

Okay no more stuff dat s being layered in my empty mind

So here I am…25 days left for me joining my dream job..nd den dere would be fb status as “God !! I love my job”…

Today while thinking..i can just list up tyms..wen I reached my extreme..nd felt my extreme…

So minus the fairytale factor….da story is simple..

Girl meets Guy… they become friends…there are petty not so serious fyts….dere are emotions budding :p …den some twists..Villains.. some hurting some pain..silly asses both f dem are dat dey still stick together just tagging it as frnds..bla bla bla…nd some more twists myt be nd den the LOUVE some goodness in life..nd hope for a happily everafter…

Well this was for those who wont be able to survive the whole dats coming ahead..nd for those who manage to..all da best guys..i am losing my head..nd myt not be able to entertain much

This is an ode to my best friend..i know eyebrows will be raised here..nd some f you will chuckle as well but yes this is an ode to my best friend… Lt Peeyoosh pandey… wow that makes it heavier

So about time… I thank you and put up the list I have been making since I dun remember when.. as I am low on bank balance ryt now..no presents..hope dis wud do a little…

— always wen I was smaller… (note: I dun use the word Younger..as I have never been than now:P FILMY ) I wished for being  able to fly…nd yup indeed today I know how to… ahem ahem..i know..dat sounds lyk a bryan adams lyrics… but m independent…m saner… I love my job (post some 20 days).. I know how to sign my cheque..i did my reservation … I can cook…I have more than 100 books on my shelf..nd m making my whole lyf myself..nd this wouldn’t have been possible if there hadn’t been TWISTS.. ..

FILMY I knw.. sorry..no more blabbering and I’ll came to the point…

–For the first phase “GIRL MEETS GUY”

Things happen at random in lyf..she sees a guy walking in blue..near the loo (dat rhymed !!) and saying hi to the girl standing next to her..den turning and saying hi to her.. and all she cud think of is “WOAH !! sexy lips “

Again after two yrs and some months..thinking about the gaze.. I know..i felt “I do know him”..and dere was jitter in the heart..

Next is the ‘N’ number of ‘hi’..’hello’…’How r u’…’how is it going?”…’breakfast ?? ‘ …’nice shirt !!’…’looking nice !!’… and all the trying to start a conversation stuff..

—Then the “BECOMING FRNDSS” phase

Shared meals..coffees…pics..leading to some heart opening conversations lyk “what do I want most is..” ..some stupid jokes..messages..short calls..plans to meet (that eventually failed and actualized after a long long tym in a weird way !!) ..some free advises..favours…smiles..waits..flirting and drooling over loads of things..

—-Then the “FYT”s.. call it “TWISTS”

There were silly fyts about wat they say..how they say..

And things started growing fonder..better..complex ‘er’ and many more ‘er’ s  added to it..

–the first Bike ride..when she learnt how to shift the gears..nd drove lyk a man !!

–the first shot of Vodka…which was bitter, insane and made her giggle big tym..

–the face turning Green for the first tym outta jealousy….i wonder why do we girls find it hard to accept..i am sure its there in our biological system..

–the Bad Deeds..wont go in details.. but yup the Bad deeds..which frnds dun do to each other..nd thus poor heart breaking…

—Then “THE PHASE” you know which

Well it came along way before it was ever realized…and its lovable…

So in short girl met a guy..became frnds nd fell in love..louve.. no matter what spelling you use.. the effect is same..

So  this was being owed because…

Lt Pandey..

–I have been an insanely selfish female..nd u brought me to senses..stuck to me always.. nd made me see and learn..

–You are my best frnd.. and am  irritatingly crazy about you

–because you made me realize my dreams..my aspirations.. nd to have the strength to hold to them..

–beause simply its YOU and its Me…

It wont be of sense to many… But this man told me start a blog at first place… nd was the editor of the very first blog I wrote long tym ago…

So in a way I owe this.. in a way which I wont be able to explain ever…

Love

Pallavi

Stepping out of college and getting to my workstation inside of a MNC, sitting on that blue chair…well this wasn’t a long struggle stricken journey. The excitement filled me to get to the best work, best of pay-cheques an early trip to States. May be this was the plan.

And then the pace life caught from my brown class desk to this blue chair surrounded by grey-brown cabins, dressed up professionals…I was swept off my ability to find ways and soon I was bored with resolving client issues, making technical reports, drafting emails, and working on best of servers one would ever see.

I started feeling left out…out of my friends, out of my plans, out of myself.

Soon the old happy hostel party memories were fading away. Broken relationships, broken heart… and even those

Pay-cheques could no longer make me happy…my plan was lost, whatever it was.

It wasn’t my place, it wasn’t what I wanted, it wasn’t what could make me feel proud of at EOD, and I started losing all my knowledge about my favorite season, my goal in life (even the tiniest traces of it) the taste of coffee I preferred ..

But I guess it happens with most and best of us…with those who claim to be of Super Man species.

And then one fine day life tickled me at the oddest of place one could meet a savior…

I met mine in front of the loo…Strangers we met and soon there were bunch of side glances, smiles jokes being shared… I can’t say I knew what was coming; yes I had an idea but rather stupefied and even ignorant to bliss and going on what went inside me… how I felt betrayed with my own dreams, and people in them I was reluctant  to accept the fact that I loved smiling like that…

“PAL-LOVEE” that’s what he called me teasingly (stretching it to rhyme with LOVE) flirting as the male species does.

And this rhyme always brought a coy smile and glitter to me…

Series of incident happened; my own incapability to judge, make decisions, to stick and to be fair crept into us…

And we started falling apart… why do we realize this when the bus leaves the stop…

But some of us are lucky that their saviors are not insane unlike them… so was mine. He held me through, complaining yet not ready to leave me… and slowly and slowly I was healing…

Yes I was able to see through… slowly I saw myself laughing hard…

I found that holding a pen on a paper was what I cherished… I wrote my first ever blog… I found I never liked the hard coffee…it was rather the sweetness that I enjoyed…I found that I loved the rain… and I longed for winter’s warmth.

I found I liked seeing myself teaching a bunch of kids… spending hours writing before sleeping under a yellow lamp.

I found I was falling in love… I found that it’s wonderful to give yourself for someone… that there was this satisfaction in “US” than in “ME”…and I found I was cope… that the strength to make it worth was within me… that even on constant difference in opinion, I loved my mom dearly and longer for her old hug…

I found that I was living…

I still sit on that blue chair…resolving client issues, making documents but am sure I’ll have my day… when I’ll be teaching a bunch of class…when I’ll write and satisfy myself, when I’ll have my own winters and rain… and I’ll love the life with whatever may come… with my savior somewhere standing and smiling with rainbow smile… holding me

M sure all of us have a savior in life… they come in different size, shapes, and face… but honestly just one loving hearts that listens, it makes us find our way to untamed happiness…

Know your savior before it’s too late… hug them and love them… because I read it somewhere that

This is how dreams come true …

Pallavi

July 28th ’10

I picture the former years coming back to us..
when little girls told beautiful stories..
there she hugs me tight, holding like a child..
and inquires about treat for empty tummies.

we’ll sit and chat hours about holidays missed..
and laughing off the kids of nineties..
clothes will be exchanged and all that life brought..
and later we’ll eat the favorite ice-cream with jellies.

We’ll talk of fights with kids of locality..
and all the games where doll marries.
the sweet and sour moments of albums..
and what we got in different journeys.

I wonder how the time passed by..
and then will ask questions like mummies..
all the times when we stood for us..
and how we took turns with scooties..

She’ll go back in the morning…
and surely we’ll fret like oldies..
promising all the holidays…
and hoping for plenties..

yes i go back at time, i held her first..
she being my favorite of dollies..
and she backing me up each day..
hiding my follies..

~~~ i dunno it makes sense for all..bt jst felt..dat these sisters..dey r a package of love unbound.. ~~

Pallavi

3rd Jul 10, 14:19 hrs