Superhero

He never probably held you close, he never wiped your tears, he never asked you where Rs 100 was spent. But indirectly maybe, he always taught you life’s lessons, some over a short drives, some over  lunch time, some from live experiences. He is that person who you as a girl always thought was perfect. He is the cumulative of all the super heroes you once admired. Literally.

Each wrinkle on his face is the mark of experience that he has been through. Chiseled by experiences, carved by circumstances, shaped by world’s forces in the best possible way, he is the encyclopedia of how this world behaves. He is the one who ensures that you grew like a princess and blossomed like a flower, saving you from every storm that he had to face. He stood like a tree in the afternoon sun, only to make sure that you thought it was still cool outside, when inside him there ran squalls of despair and sometimes also rivers of tears. You cried when you were tensed about your exams. But he faced more practical exams in life with so much at stake and never even let you feel the heat. Didn’t he feel like crying it out? Of course he did. But he did not. For you. He is the unfathomable ocean of tears, experiences and hardships. But will cover it all up only for you.

He didn’t cry when his princess had to go away from home for studies. Maybe he cried a river inside then. But he chose to conceal it. Not because he is afraid to do so, but because he knows he has to absorb her tears too. While leaving the house, you hugged her, and when it came to him, you touched his feet. But every time you touched his feet, in your heart you felt his arms embracing you. He never said the words yet always ensured that you took care of yourself.  He never asked you if you were alright, but always made sure that you were. He never asked if you need anything, but always gave it to you.

As a daughter/son, you approached him only when you wanted something. And without a question he approved everything and she always played the flow control valve. It was just through that ‘yes’ that he could shower his love. Cause he never really cared about wording the feeling out.

He wants you to scroll up the heights of success and not plumb trenches he once had to. He wants you to be happy and safe and strong. You wish you could be like him. He is THE superhero of your life. He loves you. But he could never say it to you. You love him too, but you express it only by touching his feet every time you leave your house.

You are clueless what commotion his heart will be subjected to, when one day his princess, who loved him silently like he did, the flower he so long cared for, will be plucked from his plant to embellish the life of another. With an aching heart and oozing tears, he expects his princess’ happiness, her safety and the new man in her life to love her like he does. Care for her like he does. Be the world to her like he was. Be the superhero of her life.

Love you, Papa.

Goodnight/day

TOW Monica's Secret Closet

T.O.W. The Secret Closet, remember, Monica’s secret closet in FRIENDS.. Yes this place too is Monica’s secret closet. Place where she stores all the dark secrets :P ! Monica- My favorite female character in FRIENDS! Commanding, aggressive, ‘organized’… the connecting link between all the 6… like me.... I know my friends would agree to this! I know Chandler sure would :P 

Well, Dunno why I am writing all this. Today I have decided to just let my thoughts take the form of words! I have no intentions to “think” today… Ha! as if I ever do.

I have always been a ‘speak-out’er person, whatever I feel I speak out.. and of late I have found out that this is good only till some point of time in life, and only with some people in life. You just can’t BE yourself with anyone you want. It will take time to align myself to this new school of thought. But sooner or later I will have to! *Welcome to the World, Mon* Not everyone here is gonna be your friend. But don’t lose the ones who will be there forever.

Ever wondered why this is so! The world just gets more and more polluted as we grow up. Or maybe, as we grow up, we realize kindness, frankness, gentleness are just words, some constructs made so that we easily adapt the more relevant models of life- like being crafty, being deceitful. All good things are just ideologies and not matters of fact. What we grow up learning as ideals are just crafts. You can fathom black only when you have seen white. Idiots like me keep dwelling in the white ideals in their dark secret closet and expect the world to be white.

Eventually truth has to dawn on to you that you can’t deal with people just guilelessly.. it just doesn’t work that way. You have to be artful. There has to be an ulterior meaning in everything you do! And I still don’t know, why ! :| I just wish life was simpler. Isn’t it that we are all having the same coffee in different mugs?! But eventually, MUGS matter, eh!? 

**I sooooo want someone to come and tell me this is all wrong**

It was so good when we were all kids, wasn’t it? No ulterior intents. Only pure feelings. It all becomes bad when the deviousness gets the better of you…! I really wish life were the other way round.... so that you could end up being a kid… than end up writing it off !

 Goodnight/day !

Bambai Meri Jaan......

Bombay. The love for the city is a feeling no one else can feel it for you.

A seven year stint with life in Bombay, most memorable and most cherished, is forever etched in my mind, eternally preserved in my heart. It is the City that made me fall in love, with itself and ahem; City that comforts you with humid weather throughout the year and with tolerable low-temperatures and pleasant weather in winter. No other city in this world looks as beautiful as Mumbai when it has rained. The light reflecting from the drenched streets is unique to this very city. Endearing, it looks.

I love this city for the attitude it has. No one raises an eyebrow at whatever you wear or do. Call it the independence that the city brings to you. No load shedding. Abundant cooperation and helpfulness of the people is evident. The double-decker bus; and the excellent view from upper front seat, of the roads and reflecting lights, after it has rained is something I am ready to pay double the ticket amount for. A ride along Worli sea face or Marine drive on my bike with my best friend makes me get over any sorrow or heartache. Street Chaat. Yummmmmier than Mummy's food... at times.

I have so much to write about this magical city that one blog post falls short of conveying it all. I will, as I get time, write about my experiences with this city. The food, the people, the transport system, the lone shopping and movie watching that I did, Hangout places I have been to and the SOBO trips with my best friend and Sarangi (my Activa).

The reason for me jotting this down is not for people to read and gather info. It is for my personal satisfaction. That, say, 10 years down the line if I am away from this city, I will have some memories written down for a revisit, to bring a smile on my face, which will certainly take a while to fade away.

To Mumbai, the city I love, I dedicate my Bombay Diaries #1 to #n ………………….! 

Keep visiting.

Goodnight/day!

Last Goodbye

Decanting how you made me feel into words and expressing it justly is a tough task, given how special you were to me. If there’s anything that even remotely made me fathom what it’d be like to be a mom (without actually being one), it was when I lifted you up in my arms and you cuddled me with an urge that confirms how much you wanted to be in my arms; it was when I fed you with my hands and then wiped away the remnants of your food on your chin; it was when you always wanted me to be with you, like a small child; it was when you would wait unremittingly for

minutes together just outside the bathroom-door, until I finished bathing.

But I was a cruel, wasn’t I? I was never with you always. But I ensured to be with you whenever I could. But puggy, pity me more than you would censure me. I always wanted to be with you. You know it, I know you know it.

The first day you came to our place, scared and petrified, hundreds of questions in your mind maybe, but you made nothing of your apprehensions. Within minutes you were one of us. The small little baby that you were, guileless, innocence exuding from those uncorrupt eyes that always wanted only love, you made a place in our heart way before you got that corner there in front of the spiral staircase.

Spiral staircase! You never climbed them up. Did you! The small little legs and eyes could never comprehend how to climb the spiral stairs. You were a tough child; adamant most of the times, to explore your own abilities. But when you finally scaled six of the stairs, we saw it in your eyes that happiness and pride  when one bags a first prize. So what if you could not climb the remaining 15 stairs, scaling just 6 made you a hero in our eyes!

Remember, how I did my very best, so you could cadge every chance to relish and tantalize your sweet taste buds, even if for me it meant going on a war with my Mom? Remember, the moment when your life was almost at stake when Tuffy came and pounced on you. Terrorized and aghast, you couldn’t leave even for a moment the comfort you found in my lap. Sorry, puggy, for that terrible incident. I can still feel you shivering and trembling in my hands. Also, remember that first time you went on a car drive with me. Shuddering, you would just not get off my lap! I treasure every moment I spent with you, Puggy.

The innumerable times the two of us played ‘pakda-pakdi’ like we were kids from the nursery class. Running all the way from balcony to Akshay’s room and back again. Such fun it was. That’s when you made me feel also like a child of your age. You delivered bliss in whatever limited time you were with me, puugy. You made my life a blissland.

For Mom, you were her 4^th child. You never belonged to the category of Rocky and Tuffy. You always came in with Piyu-Monu-Akshay for her. She loved you dearly, and you know it. Wasn’t she the one who saved you that day from Tuffy’s grasp? Piyu for you was that stern and a demanding nursery teacher, who taught you discipline. But baby, wasn’t she also the one who screamed in inestimable delight and surprise, when you finally learnt how to shake-hand; and when you brought the ball thrown away, back to her? Akshay was your ‘yo bro’ and loved you beyond limits. And for Dad, you were the most special of the lot…

If only it was the case that you read this letter and came back running to our home, puggy… 

"These memories are draped in the blanket of our love.
Wait for me at the door, like you always did, until we meet above."

Puggy, even today the rays of the sun coursing through the glass window illuminate the place you used to reign in, but today you are no more there. Even today your voice echoes exactly at 9am for breakfast, wish it was you, but alas…….. puggy, even today I look for a furrowed brow as cute and as innocent as yours, but no one comes close, you were the best among the lot.

The biggest regret of my life is not having been with you in your last moments. But even then, YOU made sure I met you, didn't you? You made sure you said that Last Goodbye to the person who loved you most dearly.

Did you not come to me, in the form of a Pug that stays in a house opposite my college here in Bombay, and got yourself caressed and pampered from me? I know it was you who made the distance meaningless just moments before your time ended. I know it was you. I ssso know it was you, though miles away, but you met me in your own physical form-- of a pug.

 Baby, people call it coincidence and they call me crazy.
But I know that pug was you. I know it was your soul in his body, that came to me……….
To say the Last Goodbye ……… :'(
To say the Last Goodbye  :’(    

Silence

A thousand misconceptions Flanked by

Allowed them not to see each other in eye

Though within they had the same intent

Of calling the other just a friend!

A wave of happiness in his world

She thought she was no more required.

Withdrew herself from his vicinity,

He was cold, basking in glory.

Time and silence hit them hard,

Inelegance later played its part.

She was forlorn and he was a star,

Grappling for words, both kept afar.

Trying to make sense of what all remained;

Memories of the past stand unchained.

Who’d speak up first was obscure,

Hollowing out the feelings lying layers under.

Part 1 of 2.....

to be continued

---12/12/12

"Moments"

A walk on the beach with sand between your toes

The freshness in the air as the rain starts to pour

An embrace that lasts just a little longer than usual

Small moments of life that make it all the more valuable

That blissful restful silence at the end of a busy day

A hand-written letter from a friends far-away

The feeling when someone takes your hand in theirs,

Or the lazy cuddling in the morning of cold shivers

A majestic sunset or an inspiring sunrise,

Curl up with your cell, call a friend and reminisce,

Or discover some cash you didn't know you ever had

Comfy chair; and dwelling in the thoughts of the book you just read

Returning to your pets after a loooong while,

Love for you in their eyes knows no border line,

Seeing them battling with each other to impress

Trying to please you and get caressed...

The bliss in hitting 'snooze' and going back to sleep,

Or a fresh coffee smell wafting through the room,

Or an apparently broken ipod visited after a year,

Suddenly working fine, delighting your ear

An old friend, a new time and a car drive,

A fitting song playing on the radio live,

The smile of surprise on your friend's face

A small moment of joy,

Of which you wouldn't wanna lose a trace

Beating of your heart as you confess to the one you love

And thrill of the moment when the air is filled with silence,

Hearing a 'YES'.... in elation you scream,

And the sweet setback when you realize,

All of it was just a dream.....!