To friends ...

I read this blog.. a while back and it was about an old friend. If it were a happy one then its one thing, but this one was about friends who get disconnected from our lives over the years.I always felt that probably I was the only one who had this 'ill-luck' of having friends drift away.

Back then it made sense. Ending it all and just walking away. Now i feel like i have lost out on a lot. Now, even though we are friends on facebook and the likes I cannot talk to them the way we would have long back. The pain is too much to swallow. That longing and those memories that gush by. Maybe i was wrong, maybe the times were wrong, but i miss those few friends who were the world to me.

Cos when we are friends with someone we share things, laugh out loud and finally have so many shared memories. Now, thinking about those common things hurts. I want to erase those common things... Those moments which give me a small poke inside somewhere every time i recollect them.

People whom you grow up with , those whom you start ventures with, those with whom you share secrets and stories, those who were soul sisters, those who were your grand parents' other grand children. Those people who never left your side. Those who knew what you felt even when you never spoke... Those people....

I wanna tell these drifted friends that i miss them and times were good with them around....that they were so close to me that when they drifted apart they ripped along a part of me... a part that refuses to heal, even after years of staying out of touch. A part that i shall for now and for always yearn for them... no matter what. hmmmm...

Aaah... It hurts that i still have to say 'these' and 'those' not be able to tell the names out.

To you...

Thanks for being a great friend .. I love you.

Strange Connections 2

I always take the last bus back home after gym. It just lets me sweat out more and continue doing that till i reach home... ha ha ha... nasty joke but its true. The bus stops is usually pretty empty at that time and there is the regular banana vendor there. I think he is there everyday because I hog on them after gym. That evening he wasn't there yet. Must have been one of those off days when he found a better location or just didn't find his stock. Hunger was getting to me and it was 15 minutes for the bus. So I sat there reading all the posters and doing a 'che kandraavi moonji' at many of the heroes there.

I think i was ogling at the Rajnikanth poster when i heard a voice somewhere behind my head.I was startled when i saw a heavily bearded man smiling at me through his rimless specs. 'I need a small help please' he said in a strong north-indian accent.Yup, thats how i divide them. Anyone from the upper half of india is a north-indian. Whether its hindi, parsi or bengali. So he stood there waiting for me to regain my balance and still continued smiling in a scary manner.'What is it?' I asked. He showed me a small paper which looked like Indiana Jones' map from the film. It was a complicated map of t.nagar drawn out on some tissue. He pointed out to a bookstore and said he wanted to get tehre. I told him that he'd ahve to take the same bus as me to get there. Feeling satisfied he sat down beside me and plonked his bag between us.

He was looking at the place around as though he was on a star treck film set tour. I found this boring. So many guys like this come to chennai and gape mouth wide opened that its just lost its charm. I went back to admiring Rajnikanth when he pulled out something from his bag and asked if i wanted to share it with him. It was a banana! It felt god sent but not wanting to be selfish i refused. He insisted, broke it into 2 and gave me the bigger portion.

As i gobbled the half banana i looked at hime and felt a sudden bond growing with him. I stuck out a sweaty palm and said ' Hi, I am Ganesh. Welcome to chennai' ...

Strange Connections

Its strange, the way people connect. I mean,think about it. That girl you met last year... you met her through Facebook didn't you? And that guy...with whom you ran the marathon this year? Met him at your bus stop right? That's how we meet people these days. I wonder how this was earlier. In olden times.. How did my dad meet Mr.Sabari? How did mom meet Shanta Maami? No clue!!

But the way i met Sheeba would beat all of these. It was about 6 in the evening that Saturday. Parag and I had picked up tickets to watch 'Alice in Wonderland'. Yup, very Gay! But then we were jobless and there wasn't anything else to watch. Anyway... So we decided to park of at kaapi and grab a bite before the movie. Parag's friend Aditi had also joined us. We were there chatting up and eating when suddenly my phone rang. It wasn't someone worth mentioning but Aditi's eyes shone with excitement!

'What?' I asked her. She said 'Your ring tone... Acha hai! I want!' . 'Oh that! Its a drum piece i composed and performed way back in college'. 'Its superb. I want it. Send it now!' Aditi almost screamed! I laughed and switched on my blue tooth. 'Tera Naam kya hai?' I asked her. 'Doll.I know its pansy but i like it' she jumped before i could even react. 'Doll? Right' i said. Saying that she switched on her blue tooth and went to the restroom. My phone was searching for 'doll' when the bill had come. Parag and I were doing a double check when i hit 'share' on my phone. 5 min later the piece sent we were ready to go when i got a request. It was from Dolly. I was wondering what Aditi was sending back so i hit 'ok' and a minute later i see this pic of a pretty girl which surely wasn't an actress or Aditi. While i stood there gaping at the picture I realized that it wasn't Doll but Dolly to whom i had sent the piece. I looked at the coffee shop and saw her sitting in a corner searching..

I walked up to her and said 'hey dolly?' and she suddenly gave a big smile...

to be continued....

Nostalgia

Of people and places,

Of times and things.

Nostalgia…

Every time that familiar song sings

Nostalgia…

Of roads you cross on windy nights

Of sunsets, day breaks and the signal lights

Nostalgia…

Everywhere you catch that scent

Nostalgia….

Of balconies and terraces and coffee shops

Of times when your heart just stops

Nostalgia….

Of happier times,

Of unlived lives,

Of unloved moments

And of unsaid truths.

In things and words

In tea cups and old books

In messages and pictures

In car keys and unfamiliar roads

In everything you do,

There is nostalgia around you…

This nostalgia kills you with pain and pleasure, with joy and tears.

This nostalgia…. Makes you wish you could touch those things again… be in those places and laugh with those people… But then…You and I are now in two separate worlds… between that past and this present what connects is this nostalgia.

Let it then take me… Nostalgia.

That cheap smell of Phenyl in the air.
The red hot muddy ground.
The half empty water bottle.
Those loosened clothes.
Th pulsating hearts.
Those beads of sweat.
The dried mouths.
Those final few seconds...

And then the screech of the whistle. The goal. That mad cheer. The head rush..

Nothing like a great game of basketball like those days in school.


P.S: Was riding past my school and heard that whistle that once signaled the end of PT class for IX 'A'

The Chant - 1

The entire building was vibrating to a hum...There was silence otherwise across the entire street and every step taken was towards Daija's single bedroom flat right on top of the oldest building in Naroda... Everything around Daija's house had changed but just not that one building. It was probably Naroda's oldest surviving treasure chest and the keeper of it was Daija.

The room where Daija lay was abuzz with chanting. Everyone who walked in sat next to Daija and chanted for a while, had a cup of chaai made by Kishan and left. No one uttered a word other than the chant. Daija had been telling everyone she met for the past two years that when it was her time to go she did not want to hear crying, remorse, sad stories or 'haai haais'.. but just the chant.

32 years back when Daija and her son Amin came to Naroda it was another life for them. They had left all their belongings and shifted here so that Amin could study and start working here. He did. he studied language and began teaching at the nearby school. It worked very well for both Daija and Amin. She used to carry lunch for him everyday and soon her food was the talk of the teacher's room. As days went by Daija's house was flooded with people stopping over for chaai, daal and the likes.3 decades later Kishan was making the exact same tasting chaai for everyone as Daija lay on her cot looking at the only photo on the wall.. the one of Daija's wedding... and there hung on the wall a young and beaming Daija with her Babu, as she called him...

@ Eddie's - 6

It was an hour to eight. I was sitting there in my couch watching some inane show on the television. I was almost ready when the lady next door knocked at my door with a letter. She said it was lying there outside his doorstep last evening and since he wasn't there she saved it. She said the red envelope and the loopy handwriting had made her want to open it but she wanted to save me the surprise. Saying this she shut the door behind her, leaving me with the letter. I had about an hour to reach Casey's place and so i tore the letter open and began reading it.

Dear Josh, 

  

        I could probably just tell you this but I cant. There are things in life that we cant explain. There are people who aren't a part of the picture but make the picture complete. To start from the beginning, I don't actually belong to this town. When i came here i made a friends with whom i could cover my scars. Scars of a life left behind. Scars of being a coward. Scars being selfish. There is something none of my friends here know... I ran away from my life 3 years ago, leaving behind a 5 month old son and my husband. He has no idea of where i went or why i went away. Till this day, neither do i. I wanted to live,enjoy and relish life. But that's a past i wished to bury. Until i met you. You made me feel empty and happy. Empty because your warmth made me miss my son. Happy because there was finally someone to love me enough. There was magic in the way we talked, walked and just knew each other.  I thought, i could possibly push my past and move on. A couple of days before i met your mom, Eric , my husband showed up in front of me. He was angry. Very mad at me, but he knew there was no way to get me back. I just prayed to God for my son. There wasn't much i could do going back there. I knew i couldn't take care of him or be the mother, the way yours is to you. Meeting your mother, broke me down. I couldn't hold it back anymore and so I told her the truth.

She told me that her son had fallen madly in Love with me, but when i told her i had a life i couldn't return to she didn't seem too happy. She pleaded that i at least tell you the truth and let you decide. She told me how you had left home, looking for friends and people to care for you. She told me about those days when after school, you came back home crying and begged to God to show you some friends. She told me that after 8 long years she had seen her son smile, laugh and actually live life. Casey, Sam, Ric. These were the names she always heard her son say.So, I took a few days away from you to decide on whether i should tell you or not. But those days made me yearn for you more than i ever knew. I wanted to run back to you and just with you at Eddie's and sip hot coffee and just talk. 

This i could have just told you, but then i couldn't sum up the courage to face you, face your innocent liking for me. For whatever it is worth, I love you! 

Love, 

Your Casey! 

P.S: I am waiting for you... You will come, wont you?

Reading this, I cried. I just crumbled and broke down. I don't know if it was for the time i had wasted waiting to ask her or that this was a love i couldn't have. I had much longed for a friend and there she was, that friend that i had always dreamt of. There was a life waiting for me in exactly 30 minutes. A life that would change it all for me.There she was waiting for me, My Casey. Or was she that strong? Maybe she needed someone. Just like me, she needed someone too. An anchor for a life that had no direction. Yes, She needed me like i needed her! 

I was there at her doorstep. right at 8'o clock. I straightened out my shirt, brushed my hair and rang the bell. Once... Twice...Thrice. There wasn't response. So, i trying pushing the door. It was open. 'Ha.. already in love are we?' I thought. Silently , I tip-toed into the house. It was strangely filled with nothing but wallpapers. There was a bottle of wine on the table beside the Sofa. So she had laid out the evening for us. An evening that was a first for two yearning souls. I walked to her. I was there, just a breathe away from her , just a second away from telling her that i didn't care about her past and that now we can just be together forever!

Right there on the couch was My Casandra, drenched in a pool of blood, lying lifeless on the sofa.... It took me a few seconds to understand reality... There she was , and all i could muster as i knelt down beside her was 'I love you too Casandra.. I love you too'