Everything great..then suddenly.....

Life can seem so wonderful..two people laughing at the silliest of jokes..others watching them, thinking...how can it be so great, so pure that it seems like nothing can harm it..it gives birth to that feeling of jealousy in the rest of the world that could neither grow nor die..but it combines with the best wishes for life...Its just that.. GREAT!

And suddenly, somebody feels so jealous of it that they come in and with some strange manner, attain the power to destroy your life, and simply pledge to do that. They make the situation so bad, that those two people can barely meet each other..they turn into social outcasts and are the criminals of the society.

The crime = Enjoying each other so much that it hurts others.

Why?Why does it have to be that way. What major a crime is having fun...would you even call it a crime?
For one second, just imagine yourself in their situation..

You are sitting in the best company ever, enjoying yourself and suddenly,an axe falls from the sky onto either your head or your companions...how would it feel..you can never ever have that great a time in your life...nor can you re-live those moments in your memory without that rock on your heart..you need to be strong just to remember that scene..just to breathe..now imagine..you have to go through your entire day..seeing that same person but not allowed to have anything to do with them. You are thankful that they are still alive..you see them, but you cant touch them..else that axe will fall for sure. And this time it would be certain you cant bring them back..ever.

May seem gruesome, but try to imagine..would you call those feeling as that of a criminal..would you sympathize with them and let them live or would you rather just let them drown into depression..

What would you do???Being those two or those who label them as criminals...

Love...Friendship...and the minor in-betweens...

How do you know its love? How do you know you will not confuse it with friendship...perhaps a best friend!?! How do you know its him/her? How do you know...?

These and many more questions have been flying in and out of my brain. And trust me, it nearly drove me nuts one day. 

When I look at my best friend, I know that he will be there for me whenever possible. He will try to drive in some sense into me to follow my heart. And perhaps help me follow it if I seem to be stumbling alone. I know I can call him any time...and if he, hopefully, hears it ring...he'll pick it up and tell me something that might cheer me up!

And I know I'd do the same.

I would not mind sharing a hug with him. I would not mind even kissing him perhaps. But I wonder, is it just friendship? I know its not love. Then, I guess its an in-between.

Is it that way for him too? Well, I hope so...because one day, years after today, if we grew out of touch, I'll know he was one of the dearest things that happened to me.

I thank whoever needs to be thanked for this wonderfully confusing gift...

And I'll celebrate by pulling his cheeks, hugging him tight and perhaps drowning him in kisses...

But I'll make sure his girlfriend doesnt mind...for her, I'd say "Gurl...chillax! He's booked his heart you!"

Yea, so I was born today...

Many many years ago, in a small room in some hospital...I was born. So what? I am happy about it, but nothing is happening to me on that same date now, apart from the fact that I get to add a single unit to my age and a whole year of "maturity" to my life. How does it bother anybody for that matter.

People go to party on their birthday. Its an excuse to begin celebrate. And I will not deny that even for one minute. But, if you dont feel like celebrating that day? Why do people have to go about asking what are your plans? And why do they have to sound so concerned when I tell them I'd rather not celebrate?

It is my day. I have the right to do as I wish. I wish it were a normal day. If not that, I wish that by some crazy way, this date was simply skipped. Never to be bothered again. I wish I did not have to face all the people I know and tell them..."I dont care if it is my birthday. I don't see anything special happening to me. Why should I bother? Nothing really happens to me on any other day. Its just some little issue that is going to get exaggerated for something to happen. Guess what? By some miracle, nothing's happening to me today either! Imagine that. Is it not unfair. My birthday. MY DAY. And yet, nothing great is happening."

What are the pros of a birthday? We get back in touch with more than half of the people in our address book. We get a congratulations on the fact that it is that day again when I was welcomed into the open arms of...the doctor!!!

Well, not bad...I guess. An excuse for the party-halls to get booked and dance halls to welcome new feet...for those who wish to celebrate the day that way. But for some, its just a regular day when they have to wake up early in the morning, get ready and get on with the usual boring work. And by the time they're through with that, they are simply too worn out to party hard...or as they wish, perhaps party soft...

So, I ask again...It's MY DAY...why are YOU so bothered that it is not going according to the general idea of a SPECIAL DAY...nothing's happening to me today!!!!

Alone in a dark room...

Even when the sun shines, it feels like being alone in a dark room. Perhaps the darkest.
There is a lot pending work, but not much interest in it. "Its so boring. It is something I could do even when I am somewhere else." But, the work remains untouched.
The TV is switched on and the channels are surfed. Nothing. Absolutely nothing is coming. Nothing worth watching that is. "Life is so boring. I wish I was back with my friends. Its so much fun then. Wee!" But, even with friends, its better to just sleep on the chair. Boring!

Well then, what do we do? I'm thinking these as the first few lines of the so called "book". I'v still not decided who is this extremely bored person, but would be interested to know. What happens in their life. What will he/she do next? Also, is the lead role to be played by a boy or a girl? Or a dog or a cat? Whoa...
How's the name Jeream? Is it a name? Or the name of some weird thing?Hmm...
More later!

Kneading into simplicity...

A tinge of bright yellow sparks in the dark hue of orange. When I "zoom out" on that, I see black coal burning away in the choolah and the rotis being cooked just over it.
Walking down the lane, a light lits up in that tin-roofed room. That is when I realize, that is home for somebody.
Then, I realize I have to pause during my driving test...due to goats!
I guess its all a part and parcel of the clear bright sky turning from blue to orange to yellow to purple.

This is not how most of us witness, but it is there and we all know that. When the yellow lamp in turned on in that tin house, it reminds me of the hard work that people are still rewarded for, perhaps not enough though. When I see the roti cooking over the coal, I see the love a mother has for her children; why else would she bother to burn her hand over it. When I pressed upon the brakes, I think I felt the timidness and calm innocence of the goats. Even though the word "Test" had stressed me a little, I nearly forgot all about it. (It might sound artificial, but I just cant help it then!)

I see mountains bordering the horizon when I am standing in the balcony. The clouds drift towards me and the sky begins to grown darker. Soon, its drizzling. And then pouring...not cats and dogs though! Its 6pm...the time for me to say "See you soon" to the Sun. He simply responds by painting the sky in bright shades of the rainbow. He makes sure I dont miss him or notice that he is gone...until of course I feel the need to switch on the lights.

At night, the horses tied by the bright yellow lamp-post stand silently. Dont you think they're probably dreaming of the vast feilds all around them, and running free in them. The wind blowing through their mane. The near-possibility of flying...or at least, hoping for it. Thats how I feel when I run too fast.

Well, I just felt like writing something...so I did.
Unfortunately, Mr.Riley would be unable to accomany me in my story...I suppose pre-booking would have been a better idea. So, now I'll be off...need to schedule a couple of meetings with some other characters...hmmm....

Gotta have somethin' to do yaar...

If I wanted the world to hear my thoughts...I'd rather write for the newspapers (not that they would bother to read, let alone Print it!) Also, there's no point in my sticking around the campus thinking "What to do or not to do? Yeh kaisi mushkil hae!" Why not then imagine a new character in this beautifully "engaging" scenario and give him/her a life of his own. Well then, what should be his name? Should the character, in fact, be a male or a female? And of what age? Where is he located? What does he do all day long?
Do all authors go through with all these questions in their heads or does it all come to them like electricity does through a switch, in which case, I hope the current keeps flowing through mine! Ok..ok..bad one...but seriously...what do you think about this character? If you just read through all that irritating mess of words, please do comment.
I'm thinking of waking up a Mr.Riley...is he the one or not???
I guess it's better to simply drool over that until next time...!

Back at my place..

Home is where the heart is. That is the most famous slogan known. Even the number of times Jerry (from Tom and Jerry) puts up that sign over his mouse hole is amazing. But, what is home. Is it where your parents are. Is it the place which you are allowed to call your own room at your parents house. Or is "home" even allowed to be used for that place where you've slept for most of the year with the other people in the hostel? The place where you have enjoyed so many times. Where is home?
For most of the year, I have sat in my hostel room saying to myself and sometimes to my friends, that I miss "home". Yet, now that I am here with my parents, I have nearly wept and told my mother, I want to go away from here. Why? Because my friends are not here.
So, basically, I want to be with my family when I am in the hostel; and with my friends when I am back with my parents. Why so? Why is it so hard to just be able to be where I am and simply enjoy whatever is happening around me? It is a little strange, but that is how it is.
In the dead of the night, I walk out into my balcony and holding on to the railing, I let the cool breeze twirl around my hair. And I am reminded of the times I enjoyed with my friends. The times when they sang the songs of Jodha-Akbar for me the day I wore a salwaar-kameez to class. The times when we all went off to the near by market and drove back in time for the exam which was already going on. The time when we played the kiddish games outside the classroom, with a faculty member alongside. The times we spent blabbing and singing just about anything till the dead of the night turned to dawn, with the breeze touching my cheeks, reminding me of my mother's warm hugs, cheery smiles and my father's adored pampering!
Wherever home is, I know I will always have two, one with my friends...the other with my family. And in the end, I will always have to miss one.