Bidding Adieu…

What is that good in goodbye I always ponder, an act in itself so tough. Leaving behind what we had making every moment that rough …

To the loved one parting with whom is the condition on you that heaven imposed…
To the relationship that has already run its course …
To the adobe you lived in for years …
To that pair of jeans or the dress which was so dear …
To a way life as it now can only be a new way …
To that part of you that has outgrown the very you…

But then thinking about it all again I wonder, if adieu really ensued …
Aren’t the moments, people and possessions sheltered in the memory forever? So are the conventions of nature that consistency never stays for long. All the bad and the wrongs fade with time .What’s left are those special moments and what was right.

Lounging by myself … what a liberation!

Not adhering to the norms of eating out with a set group or at a set time, I often end up in the cafeteria with my lunch and exchange of pleasantries with unknown or little known people. Some tiring days are the ones when one doesn’t want to be pushed into a forced conversation and here is when I prefer indulging deep into my savouries and blankness.

“Hey, whom do you eat lunch with? Why don’t you join us on lunch from tomorrow. Our team is the largest on the floor and the amount of noise we make you would know when we go for lunch” offered a co-worker. “Sure I will definitely join you if we are eating at the same time” I replied in an attempt to be polite to an absolutely unconvincing offer.

“You can always give me a call when you want to shop the next time. I would love to accompany you.” Said a relative I accidentally bumped into on my shopping spree. “I’m sure you would not have the patience “I tried being witty. But the truth is that for the shopping me who finds post purchase confusion irritating and knowing all options is essential before taking out a shilling , shopping alone saves the trouble of feeling guilty in making the other person walk miles for that one pair of plain Jane jeans .

And then the final straw to the two day events. A lovely rainy day was a perfect time to de-stress by walking down the widest road of the city inhaling the breeze deep inside to every part of me. This indulgence could not be complete without biting into mayonnaise filled Mc veggie and oodles of fizz. Sitting on the glass pane staring at the rain gulping those extra calories I was in the perfect me time mood when it happened!

My phone buzzed “where are you “questioned a close one.” Enjoying a good day “, I replied excited. “Aha with whom?” said the teasing tone ”No-one “ and alas came the reaction , “ I was free tomorrow , we could go out tomorrow.” and it went on with the person finding it pitiful to not have the companionship of dual mastication.

Suddenly I realized that everybody passing through the glass pane stared right at my face. The person sitting next to me stared with curiosity…And here I got to thinking .

Why a person on his own especially when eating out considered a strange phenomenon. Is it that people see him as a friendless looser or is it that they can’t understand the independent associated with it? Why is it that my mother always said, “I really wanted to eat that but then I was alone; may be sometime we’ll go “.

And then I remembered, Was that exactly not how I viewed things few years back. Like many others I also took support of digging into books, television, dialing random people to keep talking on phone when manducating alone was first affected on me. They were all ways to put the friendless loser stigma associated with eating alone to rest, I realize today.

Today when it’s neither important nor necessary, I enjoy the living urge to eat out alone. And believe me my friends who still shy away, it is indeed a liberation and independence when you start looking straight and enjoy your meal outside on your own without any book, friend or mobile.

I believe....

[ Please Note : Not writen by me , But liked it so much that wanted to include in my blog]

I Fall and I pick myself
I lose hope yet I dream
I get lost and find myself again
I cry and laugh through my tears
I depair but I believe...............

Its rain and rain, what a wonderful feeling I am happy again!!!

After the days’ struggle to meet my deadline, I decided to take a walk outside for a while. Leaving my quintessential relationship with my system behind I stood and walked away from the wooden doors, uncontrolled air conditioners, cubicles and deadlines; towards the door. I was just about to step out when I heard the noise of sprinkling water. And here it was … It was raining!!

The smile kept increasing in size with every droplet falling on the ground. I threw away those binding high heels, forgot the decorum of formals and rushed myself towards the sky’s mercy. I could feel every drop on my face. As my clothes dampened I wanted to be drenched even more. The quest kept increasing.

“So enjoying the rain?“ questioned another smiling face that came to stand by the door to beam with the downpour. “Yeah “I said moved out of my open eyed trivial day dreaming. Yes my dear fellas, I could only smile. Giving another broad smile I decided to go back to be tied again with my system , deadline and air conditioner .On my way I remembered when every rain meant playing ”chapak chapak” with friends . Who cared about the classes that needed to be revisited or restaurants that have to go to or clothes that would get spoiled?

May be that’s what’s growing up, I told myself and unlocked the lovely machine. Not yet over from the sense of ennui, I delved into the world of networking. And here they came “ Yeh mausam bada baimaan hai”…” Badalon ke honth khule...kuchh meethe bol chale!!”…. “ Lovely rains “… And I realized it is not only me. So was the status of all as per the writings on my facebook wall.

What is it that weather has to do with our moods and that too so much that it can uplift you in a blink for no rhyme or reason, I wondered. Rains are fun, rains are romantic, rains are relief … and the list goes on. And then I saw the faces of those buddies of mine who according to national news must be wading themselves through dirty waters in the financial capital. But then were they not waiting desperately for the same a month back and is it just gratuitous amount that’s troubling them.

So anything that is too available is not worth it anymore, I resolved remembering the irritation I would have with never ending showers for last two years.” Wouldn’t that be the case with everything?” I pondered. People who are readily available, the food that’s there at hand’s reach, the jobs that we have , “ meeting with Mr. XYZ “ beeped the outlook . …

Digressed again! I cursed myself and decided to just close the thought with the best statement ever - “Anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain.”

Let Go ….

I tried holding things tightly in my hand
But pouring they went like a flowing sand
To the old beautiful I may want to cling and the same song continue to sing
But then at times all the choice you have today is to let go…

The feeling may subside, the memories may fade
I may wonder what was it,so much difference that made
And it becomes a beautiful chapter in my story for ever after
But things have to change and today have to let go…

It may be the time to start a new book or a new page
Whatever the reason it’s not easy and I ain’t a sage
Could also be like this,I had no clue and at times it feels blue
But for new paths to tread today I have to let go….

I wish there is a world where all happens again
And this time it always stays the same.
Like the old times with happiness I‘ll scream and it would be like a dream
But today I know I would have to let go….

Geographies of belongingness....

“Where are you from? “ That’s exactly the third question I have been subjected to for the last three whole years. The first two being my name and what do I do. This is where it all started, the realization that I belong to a place, I have an ethnicity and all that becomes a part of my identity.

“ I am from Delhi “ I would respond as a matter of fact. “Originally from Delhi?” came the next obvious one. “Born and brought up there” I would give another factual statement trying to understand the questioner’s doubt.

What followed next is what initiated that trail of feelings. A look, look which had various expressions in it . A look of judgment, a look of pre conceived notions shouting “oh she is gonna be like this “, a look of admiration, a look of intimidation saying “here comes the outgoing city girl who just knows to party and fool people.” And then the conversation would just revolve around the same.

This got stronger with every little experience. Experience of my own friends when they went on “ These people from metros, you see …” casting them as some soulless creatures of selfishness having no value system in place. Experiences of a fellow schoolmate of mine who also shared masters with me on being dumped after months of courtship. The reasons: her caste and city of origin. Everyday she would cry saying what’s my fault in it and point out how the guy’s mother would say “ dilli ki ladkiyan humare ghar mein nahin chalengi” projecting her as another modern bitch. Wolla !! And I used to think that this happens only at 9 o’clock on star plus!!!! And believe it or not my fella friend actually felt low and helpless about being from where she was. It all became worse when in all discussions with my friends, being a person from not such a bigger place became a characteristic of perfect woman or a perfect human.

With each day and every experience I just wanted to belong more to the place, the city, the culture, which I never realized, I was from ever before. What I felt was simple “Executed without trial.” I wanted to get back, back where now I claimed I belong and was my hometown.

And I did, I did come back leaving everything and all opportunities behind with my obstinate reasons. Came back with the feeling that now I would never crib and enjoy it to the fullest. But then it again seemed changing. Here I was reading the book [Adigga’s white tiger] with Delhi as its background and watching Delhi 6 the same day. Yes my dear titan friend I finally did watch this movie!

There were new sets of realization now. Why couldn’t I relate to either of them? Why did I disagree with almost all point of views and said “This is not Delhi”. Why was I imagining the places in the background when I should know exactly how the background and people’s description should be?

Here is where I got to thinking, what is a city and how it becomes that important. To be more precise what is Delhi and how did it become that important.” What describes the city to me? “
Is it that Old Delhi which every moviemaker wants to depict, the Jama Masjid, the Chandni Chowk , rickety roads and culture of old Delhi. Then I would say alas! All these places are as much new to me as much to a person who visits the city the first time. I have never seen them. With this I also remember the youngest classmate of mine shrieking in a movie theatre “You are not worth calling from Delhi, Go back and visit Chandni Chowk at least once”.

Is it the bureaucracy that defines the national capital? The politicians, the parliament, the Rashtrapati Bhawan , the north and south block . C’mon I just hate the fact that they exist here and block the roads on and off.

Is it being a city of monuments? Then how many of us who did not come as tourists really witnessed Qutanb Minar , Red fort , Old fort or Humayu’s tomb. I still have to really take a look at them in spite of passing through them umpteen number of times.

Is it the food? But then Mc Donalds and Dominoes have nothing to do with this place. Neither have street momos or greasy Chinese. It must be the Paranthawala galli but then who wants to go there? How relieved I was to know that I ain’t the only one when my pakka dilli friend said “Obnoxious that place is and makes you feel ill”. I was not the only one I sighed.

You may say I am like any other young urban bonafide city girl who hunts restaurants, malls, skyscrapers and clubs .So here it goes, except for the air conditioners to avoid heat, there is nothing that I can appreciate about the select city’s and metropolitans. The skyscrapers are just not my taste and I often refer to Gurgaon as a concrete jungle. Delhi may be a shopper’s paradise to some but for me it’s the same old tried trusted brands and shops that work and that too only twice a year. I don’t even regret if the number comes down to one. And to share a secret with my clubbing fans, “Elevate” and “sound of music” still remain unexplored for me.

Then is it people I get to thinking. Then why do I laugh when anyone behaves too loud? Why do hear my friend saying “ They just go me, I, my ” when I see anyone bragging. And above all why do I look with disdain at the ostentatious display in the big fat wedding. Oh don’t get me wrong, I found the closest and the most genuine friendship and people in this city only but know that there are few.

Then what is it between Delhi and me I pondered and asked my proudtobeindian friend to define the city. After being” home sweet home” he quipped “A metropolis with big/wide roads that looks so green from top.”

And here I came back home in the much famous Delhi metro realizing I am no Delhite, no Punjabi, no north Indian, no city girl, no urbanite but just a home bird. Execute me if you want to but I would love to freeze in Antartica in my house if there could be one.

What are you watching?

Once a very close friend flaunted his meeting with a new intellectual quote “A person is what he does in his free time”… Hmm… I reacted ..savoring on or usual Mexican bonanza pizza that we often indulged into at our favorite Joeys. Inside a bored voice said” Oh come on, Now they would also evaluate your free time” … and gulped coke down my always fizz quenching throat. “May be” and I quickly changed the topic.

Today again, out of nowhere I am reminded of the conversation and wonder - what I’m watching defines me or what I’m looking for defines what I am watching. Somewhere in the tryst for an adequate job , back into my adobe where everyone else has moved on in last few years and the ones that I just left behind are moving fast , I lay somewhere exactly between Delhi and Mumbai with a new obsession.

The obsession is what I watch these days. With no more digression I admit that its typical Chic entertainment .. Sex and the City .. And before you gals giggle lemme tell you this secret , I am actually doing a rerun. Taking strength from the strength of these women. Quoting unquoting their conversations I take comfort in that line when Carrie makes the Hubble quote “May be some women are not meant to be tamed and are to run free till they find someone to run with just as wild” or relate so much when she quips “I’ll never be as perfect a woman who wears white dress without spilling over it“…and ya what a laugh it is when Miranda and Carrie discuss about those girly gals who wear make ups to the gym … I know my girls love that scene too.

And in a similar manner amidst the woods of an absolute virgin hill station at a wee hour I obsessed– “ You remember that scene when Carrie says that if Eiden and me survived the crash of 1929 then nothing could go wrong“ .“C’mon we are still in a different country, culture and independence levels. You’ll have to be a little more practical. You can’t live by their rules” My close aide jolted me. “And above all it’s a work of fiction “

True so much it is. And here came the thought– what and why am I watching something so much so that I’m practically starting to believe in its rules. And then I was just not sure if I was giving myself another illusion for the momentary comfort from the reality around. When we delve into fiction is it only to entertain ourselves by enjoying reflection of what we want to be or restore our beliefs into what we want to believe. Again I say what I’m watching defines me or what I’m looking for defines what I am watching.

How else can the superhero obsession be explained. What about those friends of mine who look at a racing car or amusement park rides and imagine their loved basic instinct series. When my dear friend prefers James bond to all superheroes because he gets to keep all the girls [not to mention a woman’s attention is the highest kick for him].

Was I creating a parallel world that all in the end would be good and nice. That in the end every Miranda would become a partner in her firm and gets to be with imperfect Steve and every Carrie after being a great writer ends up with Mr. Big even if he marries someone else. May be I was comforting myself with some manohar kahaniya and not facing the reality. May be I should accept what comes my way and leave what has gone as lot of people advice every day. May be I should just accept that all cannot be as perfect as fairy tale and separate fiction from reality

But then would we not lose faith in futures. Would we not just become a set of beings with prosaic realities and compromises and would we all not be watching only NDTV 24 by 7 only. I still don’t know if my new obsession is so because I’m seeing myself in that or it’s the comfort I am looking for but it does restore my belief in myself is what I know.

And what better way to end what I am saying than reminiscing a walk down the Juhu street amidst those designer buildings when one of my classmates exclaimed “ Hey we are walking like one of those SATC girls “ and then shrieked “ What are you guys, I am so much Charloette”, “ Shruti is absolutely opposite to Samantha “ said the woman who all women in my class loved .. Where and what exactly I am I could not figure out but what I watched definitely made a mark on me is what I figured.

Breaking free from that inertia

“I have too much energy and time at hand and no clue what to do in it.” I exclaimed “There is nothing that engages me mentally enough” is what I claimed as one of my biggest problem . And the worse is that I’m bored of my hobbies too. Yes, to much of my horror, I am bored of working out and reading as well. And to top it all, I have never been as free since 8th standard… Ya not even in school.

Having been out of touch for a long time this buddy of mine still saw me as her school companion who would dirty her hands in everything. “You used to attend those commercial art classes remember or something like that,” … “remember those plays, scripts, debates “she went on … and “those events” she buzzed with enthusiasm.

“Which world is she talking of?” I thought with an utter sense of disconnect. Was she talking of me I pondered. I walked back home thinking she just has no clue as to what I have grown into and completely wrote it off.

Then one day while cleaning my cupboard stared back at me a piece of writing … A writing that we all took proud in the last year of our school…. Yes my dear old fellas I am talking of that play of Khushi , Tanya , Riya and Simran ( I can already see a smile on some of your faces.. may be sometime we can get together and read it , I still have it)

And then I felt, how is that at that time we never cared of how the work would shape out but carried on just because we enjoyed it. What was it that was stopping me from trying my hands at something I left long back? I realized that I was just not sure and cared more about not being able to write well than just the fact that I may enjoy it.

But what the heck yaar I thought “I might just not get this kind of time ever again”. And before I again get lost in the grind of daily routine lemme just see how bad could I be .So my dear friends here I go ahead to trouble you with my blah blah and an amateurish endeavor. And you thought you could get some respite that we don’t see each other that often anymore!