Anaahat

The worst gift, this, what you left behind, when we turned different corners, after I hurled words at you, this, this is what you slyly slid into my palms. Unawares I went home, with no hand in mine, no fingers entwined, with a possible heart full of love. Now he is standing beside me, and when he smiled, this, your gift, lifted over my eyes, like a light veil, or a bright volcano, of my inability, to love anymore.

The smooth streets The buildings holding some secrets the white strips glowing in the streetlights. The closed shops, the frequent zooming motorbikes, the hushed voices, the sheets, tears, hopes buried in the day slowly awakening as the night speaks. The night speaks. In the nights I remember you when they go to sleep their breathing silent the duvets rising falling, the rhythm of life the carpets swooshing under my feet. Your smell enveloping me From that socks there From that shirt on the hook Unnoticed Unheard. I thought I left you behind On that turning over there On that second step of your room On that half-empty coffee mug On that bill of an Italian restaurant I thought I had walked further Gone further. But you still speak A whisper in my hair Near my ear Running down my neck sitting at the end of my spine the smell of burnt bones The scream of a crash Oil and rubble and your wallet Burnt. The ashes speak.

let us sit and stare at the wall in front of us. Don't tell me the two-minute conversation with that distant cousin's second cousin. Don't tell me about the brave fight on the fare with the autowalla. Let us just sit for once, and stare at the blank wall. don't fill in the silence or the space in-between. Let us simply sit and watch our baby's breathing as she dreams in peace. And then let us think, in silence, of the times when we would speak.

At random moments, some sentences come to my mind which summarise a great deal of life experiences. They end up on my gtalk status and then they are lost in the time. But now, they will be here as a log on my blog. ***   Does happiness have a story to tell?   ***   As we grow older, we lose the ability to see at things in wonder. And years ago, as girls we would prance around and laugh at amazement only at our coordinated steps.   *** Life's always unfair. It always gives us things we were never prepared to have. And the wants which were born within us, remain.   *** Does life pre-decide if we were born to be loved the way we want or to love the way we want to be loved? ***

Two years ago on this day, ban on smoking indoors was imposed by the Maharashtra government. Then, there was a huge uproar about this, views were expressed in favour and against. Smokers were angry and non-smokers were triumphant. Today, life has returned to normal. It seems normal to expect clear air in a nightclub, to expect smokers standing in the office corridors bonding over a smoke and coffee, to expect separate smokers rooms, etc. Here is an fictionalised story of an opinionated gentleman writing on what transpired on 2nd October 2008. *** To Smoke or Not to Smoke   Ramanikbhai logs on to his blog. He bangs the keys, patriotism oozing from every pore of his body. The keys taking life of their own and speaking Ramnikbhai’s mind. He writes about how this country for which the great Mahatma fought for has gone to the dogs, he writes about the hindu-muslim divide, he writes about the westernization of the India culture, about short skirts and cigarettes, he writes about alco...

Yes, this is about Ayodhya. Until the 30th, I didnt even follow the news. The only thing that merely affected me was my autowalla telling me that Autorickshaw's are going to be off the streets after 3pm. So, left office early (btw, my office didnt declare it as a half-day!). Reached home in record time and then switched on the news for the first time in months.What unfolded in front of me left me with shame and disgust. Which is reciprocated by many others. At night, after "Ram Lalla" was "given" 1/3rd of the disputed land in Ayodhaya, perhaps, showed his anger through the heavy lightening and rains.  What I feel has been aptly worded by Siddharth Varadarajan in The Hindu. Read it here .