LOVE

What is
the first word that comes to your mind when you think of it?

Does
somebody’s face appear in front of your eyes or do you recall somebody whom you
met in your life and you really liked, or does it bring back the memories of
your first crush or your first love, or does it remind you of a summer
love…..,or it reminds you of your life partner………………..

Love has
touched every individual somewhere or somehow. But unfortunately, many might
have forgotten the first time that they might have felt butterflies flying in
there tummies, or the feeling of going blank when you saw that someone special,
or being in complete awe of a person.

It has
happened to every individual (and those who say no are just lying). May be the
feeling might have blinked away but it has left its mark on everyone who truly
felt it..

I being no
exception, have felt it , and the experienced it, and have tried to treasure
the feeling all along.

It was the
first day in the college; I was in the first year in a degree college and since
being a junior and completely tense I was having hard time to identify the
rooms and passages leading to my class, and therein where I bumped into him .
it should have been like Hindi film types where in a girl is in hurry and bumps
into a boy and both of them say sorry when it is neither’s fault and the love
story begins. But in this case it was exact opposite, he dashed into me while
catching hold of one of his friends and I gave him a dirty look and rather than
saying sorry he just passed by without saying a word.

He was one
of the seniors and was a friend of abhijit (my sisters friend)a B.Sc.It senior,
.As I was hurrying past them, abhi( as I call him) called me up, to apologize
saying nikhil is weird at times but good at heart (as if it mattered to me than)
I kept nodding but my mind was busy thinking about an alibi for entering late,
into the classroom. I said its ok and hurried for my class.

Days went
by, the incident had sponged out of my mind, I hadn’t seen him around either.

As the
days progressed I had formed my own friend circle, which included a couple of
seniors as well (thanks to my big mouth that likes talking so much). We had
quiet a lot of fun and dhammal, I had entered college and was thoroughly
enjoying each moment of it. I was know as a chatterbox and was always among the
few in search of someone to talk to.

Likewise I
was busy chattering along with Abhi in the cafeteria (gone were the days
wherein I attended any lectures) . and I saw Nikhil coming around with a funny
smile on his face that I had liked so much the moment I saw it. He gave a nod
to abhi and fled past completely ignoring me( not that he knew me either but I
found it rude)]

I
complained about it to abhi but he used to be too busy “bird watching” rather
than listening to me. Nothing much happened for the entire year, neither of us
spoke or crossed each other, he was busy with his life so to say and I with
mine. I scraped through my first year somehow, but was warned against poor
performance and hence had to be more attentive for the second year.

During the
second year I tried hard enough to score by collecting notes of the meritorious
students and glancing through them once in a while sitting in the cafeteria.
But whom I glanced most was Nikhil, who was usually seen with professors or
students discussing the obvious study related matters

.I learned
from abhi that he was among the top rankers in the college. I would find nikhil
in the cafeteria alone only early in the morning or late in the evening when
most of the crowd used to disperse to find some other place to hangout . He
seemed to be engrossed in his own world whatever it was.

He used to
usually be surrounded by girls, he was blessed with awesome looks (that I had
noticed the day I bumped into him but was too arrogant to accept) but he always
seemed to be thinking something else or doing something and ignored the girls
mostly. Neither him or me tried talking to each other, except for a glance or a
nod or a smile we neither spoke nor tried too.

 First semester was tougher than I thought;
although I somehow scraped through it I had to keep my words of performing
well. So I would often try to sit in the library( unless I found someone to
chat with).

Therein
where I saw him again and than on I was a regular at the library, although I
did not know why I enjoyed watching him but yes it felt good to find him
around.

He was very serious with his studies
it seemed so. However, occasionally I was caught staring at him and I used to
feel blood rushing towards my face. Although he never seemed to be interested
in I was kind of inclined towards him..

He disappeared for a month and I
learned it was due to exams that he preferred studying at home or I wondered it
was coz of me that he was getting disturbed.

During the
end of second year, I saw him again during the farewell, he was among one of
the performers, he had a great voice. I was just mesmerized by his performance
and since I was among the few who had access to witness the backstage bedlam, I
was easily noticeable and I think he did notice me, coz after he had finished
his performance we had a brief encounter, I was surprised at first and furious
after what he told me.

He came
along with a funny smile and said,  “
You own me an apology for dashing me” I was dumbstruck coz I didn’t know what
to do should I yell him for dashing me that day or for being so inconsiderate.
But didn’t do either; I was too numb to reply. Moreover, was thinking for a
proper reply but nothing came to  mind?
He stood there for a while staring and enjoying the chatterbox going dumb
scenario.

Finally
somehow i blurted out that I am sorry and I saw the sunniest of smiles I had
ever seen and annoyed at what I had just said. It felt as if he could read my
mind, he said don’t be annoyed “I was just kidding” & went away, I kept
wondering what in the world had happened to me. But was too happy for no
reasons thereafter to argue about what happenend. That is how we started
talking to each other.

Since then
I often found myself searching for him, we did cross each other occasionally
and had brief talks as well. I had enjoyed being with him, abhi used to tease
me by his name but I shook him off.

 We enjoyed the time that we spent in the
library, he used to busy with his theories, explanations, and me with accounts
but yet during the short breaks that we took we loved talking to each other or
rather I enjoyed listening to him. Yep the chatterbox had become a good
listener at least according to him.

I had
learned he had been planning to go abroad and that his father resides in USA
and expects to join him soon for further education if he so wishes. We spoke to
each other for brief moments but it felt the best times during the entire day.
We enjoyed each others company I although never thought about it, i had started
to like him, I was in complete awe for him, I found myself searching for words
at times when he gave me that funny smile. However, had not yet accepted that I
was in love.

I passed
my second year with good scores, and was happy about entering the degree level,
I had my vacations planned, I was supposed to visit Bangalore along with my
sister at my aunt’s place. Although I hated to go but I had no choice.

During the
last day of the college year, I met nikhil in the cafeteria at our usual table.
He seemed a bit nervous and was not listening to what I was saying, he was
engrossed in his own thoughts I yelled him and said he is too busy for me, and
then rather than annoying me with is comments as he usually did he said I am
sorry and we ordered coffee and then neither spoke much. I kept wondering what
had happened to him and he kept fidgeting with his books. We again had a heated
argument for some reason that I don’t remember. I left the cafeteria without
saying a single word. I was supposed to leave in the evening..

Hours before
I was supposed to leave for banglore, Abhi came home to say goodbyes and happy
journey. He met my sis and just when he was supposed to leave he came in my
room and gave me casual inquiring look questioning, if I was in love with
nikhil. I was taken back by this sudden query. I hadn’t thought about it but
now that I was questioned the first thought that came to my mind was  “YES” it was like a reflexive emotion that
left me wondering for a while. I stood there looking at him, and hundreds of
thoughts churning in my mind, but I did not say any.

I tried my
best to hide my keenness and I answered no, and he shrugged and went away, but
for me it was so exciting. I thought of telling Nikhil right there and than
itself .I called up nikhil, to tell him that I would be leaving within an hour
and could he meet me , but he was not at home and would  not be able to reach on time.

I was
disappointed but thought a couple of week’s wont harm. We chatted for a while
and just when I was about to hang up, he said sorry for whatever had happened,
it was not so like him, his behavior was different.

I asked
him if something was wrong he said “Nothing just some issues that I cannot help,
not now atleast!” I did not understand what he meant..

There was
along pause before I finally spoke, I said may be i can but all he said was you
cannot. He wished me goodbye and happy journey before he hung up. And the line
went dead..

I tried
calling him again, but the number was engaged.

I finally
gave up and thought of discussing it when I came back. My vacations were ok but
my mind kept thinking about nikhil and his behavior.

When I
finally reached home the first thing I did was calling nikhil but there was no
reply, abhi was not around to let me know about his whereabouts.

Finally
when the college reopened, I attended the first few lectures and after the
first break headed on for searching nikhil, I searched the classroom ,
practical room, library, the gymkhana, cafeteria, the office, the teachers
lounge, but he was nowhere to be found.

I was in a
state of panic, then when I saw abhi entering the college , I strode towards
him, with a questioning look, and before I could ask he told me that nikhil had
gone to USA for further studies. The news came to me like a hard blow I did not
know what to say or do, after a while I gathered myself, and asked abhi if he
had left any contact no. or an email id , but he said nikhil does not want me
know where he was…

I was
shocked and told me how nikhil had told him about the conversation before I
left, and how he came to know that I was not in love and he was not ready for it,
he thought of asking you during the last day of the college but was too nervous
to do so…..and that he only made you more angry by his behavior and was
extremely sorry for it.

I stood
there for a while, it took me sometime to gather myself, I walked towards the
library, sat at our usual chair and I kept wondering how could he have believed
abhi, he could have asked me, and so on and on, the questions were just
countless and needed to be answered but there was no one to question
too!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Till date,
I wonder why is it so difficult to let someone know that you love him so much,
do words validate emotions????

MULLING
OVER NOTHING !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Why does one feel guilty
even after doing the right thing?????

Why even when you know that
what you have done is correct ,do people feel (especially close ones) that you
are wrong??????

And even when you knw that
you are right why the hell do you feel fucking bad??????

Why something that you do
may hurt a person  and you still say or
do it,coz that is gonna help him later, then why the hell do you still feel bad???????

Sorry, dear friends am just
confused, had nothg else to say so bear with me????????

JOURNEY. . . .

The night crept slowly

Scattering the stillness that it always wraps

Reminding her the void that it brought,

Unable to overlook what she had lost,

Carrying the darkness in its arms,

Spreading emptiness all around,

A loud silence, a silent cry,

 It
engulfs her in its dark,

Yet in this dark she lingers around,

Waiting in a state of uncertainty,

In abeyance of her thoughts,

Eager for the day to surface,

Entangled in the memories of the past,

She hopes to begin the present

Searching for a future,

Uncertain about the certainty of this very
thought,

She locks herself more into the past,

Although she struggles for herself, she is in
vain

Denying the reality that she cannot accept,

Watching her hopes wither away

Concluding her faith with each day,

It’s hard to make her realize

That her faith is futile,

She does live her life, heard her say she is
fine

But thinks it hurts only when she breathes

Years pass but
she freezes herself in the past

With nothing to hope nothing to fear

She clings on the very thought of her dear

Continuing the journey now all alone

Unable to contain the ache,

Aging with the pain,

She finds it easier to give up

Watching the death as it nears,

Embracing it to seek refuge,

From the pain she carried all these years,

We watch her moving to a different world

Eagerly waiting to meet the one whom she loved

She waited for an entire journey to end,

Only to begin a new . . ..

                                                _shashi

Humne dekhi hai un aankhon ki mehakti khushboo

Haath se choo ke isse rishton ka ilzaam na do

Sirf ehsaas hai yeh, rooh se mehsoos karo

Pyar ko pyar hi rehne do, koi naam na do

Humne dekhi hai un aankhon ki mehakti khushboo

Haath se choo ke isse rishton ka ilzaam na do

Humne dekhi hai…



Pyar koi bol nahin, pyar awaaz nahin

Ek khamoshi hai, sunti hai kaha karti hai

Na yeh bujhti hai, na rukti hai, na thehri hai kahin

Noor ki boond hai sadiyon se baha karti hai

Sirf ehsaas hai yeh, rooh se mehsoos karo

Pyar ko pyar hi rehne do, koi naam na do

Humne dekhi hai un aankhon ki mehakti khushboo

Haath se choo ke isse rishton ka ilzaam na do

Humne dekhi hai…

Muskurahat si khili rehti hai aankhon mein kahin

Aur palkon pe ujaale se jhuke rehte hain

Honth kuch kehte nahin, kaanpte honthon pe magar

Kitne khamosh se afsane ruke rehte hain

Sirf ehsaas hai yeh, rooh se mehsoos karo

Pyar ko pyar hi rehne do, koi naam na do



Humne dekhi hai un aankhon ki mehakti khushboo

Haath se choo ke isse rishton ka ilzaam na do

Humne dekhi hai…

[This
is one of the mails I received thought of sharing it with you]

                    Romancing the
Harbour line

The
7.45 a.m. local train, Andheri-Victoria terminus, had its regular passengers.
This was on the Harbour line. At that time in the morning, passengers in the
first class compartment had various ex-pressions on their faces, registering
that another day had begun.

The train looked the same, so did the faces. The
12-year old boy recognized many of them but none of them spoke to him. He kept
to himself, observing but never interfering in the private worlds others lived
in.

The train dragged it into and out of stations,
throwing out but also admitting people to occupy the rexine padded green bench
seats.

The boy jumped into the train at Andheri alighting
at King’s circle station to make his way to don Bosco School. He carried a
khaki satchel containing books, which had many correction marks and remarks
that he should improve in his studies.

Once inside the train, he would see a girl just
about 20 or so.. she was pleasant to look at, simple attired through the week
in three different floral printed salwar kameezes, her dupattas would be
crumpled, just like her smile once in a while when she looked into a book and
presumably found the words amusing.

The
boy could not make out what she read because the slim books were always covered
with brown paper. These were perhaps romantic novels, which were a very popular
read in those days, lent out by circulating libraries with those brown paper
covers to keep them crisp. This was in vain, as they passed from one new hand
to another everyday.

The books could have been Mills & Boons, they
could have been Gulshan Nanda stories about a hero, heroine, villain and
horrible circumstances. The girl..the woman ..was always alone, friendless. At
times in the train, the don bosco boy imagined that sha gave a nod to him but
he did not respond. What if she did not smile back at him after he did?

The boy was in seventh standard, not crazy about
studies. Like many other boys he preferred to spend time in school’s compound,
playing volleyball and tennis ball cricket.

The khaki satchel that he carried was a burden. He
wished he could throw it away on the railway tracks as the train carried him to
and fro from school.

Seventh standard meant several subjects that he
could not figure: mathematics, geography, history, everything. He did not care
if he had not studied and would be pulled up. He scowled to himself that the
girl in floral salwar kameez just kept reading.

Then it was June, July may be. He does not remember
the exact moment but he can recall it was raining as if heavena had opened to
shed tears. He was in his plastic raincoat.

The young woman had a blue and
pink umbrella next to her. As always, she got off at Bandra station that day
but forgot her umbrella. Before she could get off he train, another passenger-
a man about 25 leapt to pick up the umbrella. He patted her on the shoulder and
said, “excuse me, you have forgotten something..i don’t want you to get wet.”

She
broke into the sunniest smile on the cloudy day and said “Thank You.”

The man returned to his seat. The boy had seen him
before but his gaze had never lingered on him- just another office worker
perhaps. But he had done something so gallant. He returned to his seat, he was
hero of the day.

Others
looked at him, returning to their newspapers, prayers beads or just looking
here and there, anxious about what the pouring rain would do to them when they
alighted. The young woman, I was sure reached wherever she had to safe and dry.

Next day the rain continued. She occupied the same
seat, so id he, looking way at nothing in particular. But when she alighted at
bandra so did he.The next day, they were sitting next to each other. Next
month, their bodies touched each other’s. She was carrying the umbrella even
though it was dry. When she got off the train, he would pick up the pink and
blue thing and hand it over with a flourish.

This ritual continued for a month or more. The boy
missed the romance….then he forgot them…till they returned, looking comfortable
with each other .

The boy imagined that they had married. Actually,
they had, going by the rings on their fingers, the sindoor in her maang. They
looked good together. She wore floral saris now, he was still in his dark
shirts , dark trousers and briefcase. Two working people going their own ways,
in love. The boy was now in ninth standard. The couple smiled at him and asked,
“How was school?” he nodded shyly.

Two years passed, a couple who met in the train,
liked each other and married. Maybe something like this couple could happen to
him too, the boy thought. Till it rained again …furiously.

The
couple were in the same train, same time but looked like strangers, moving
robotically. The school boy’s raincoat had changed to a casual windcheater as
if to defy the rain gods.

The woman’s umbrella was now white with festive
ribbons. She took care to take it along with her when she alighted at bandra
station.

She would not mechanically at her man with the
briefcase; he would nod back, and return to her crossword puzzle. Or he would
smoke a cigarette, dragging on it deeply.

The boy was worried; something was going wrong the
couple did not look the same. The man was now wearing a tie and often jabbed a
calculator. The boy still did not ask him anything. Every one has problems, the
boy thought.., the boy had his.. how to pass exams, how to keep his father an
accountant with UNICEF happy. Dad had a meager pay packet. So who cares, what
this man wearing a tie is facing with his woman in a floral sari…and just a
speck of sindoor.

It is okay, the boy thought. Everything works out
till it rained heavily again the next day. The woman forgot her umbrella when
she alighted at Bandra station.

And the man did not do a thing. He lit a cigarette;
let her go out into the rain without any protection.

When the man got off at King’s circle station, like
the boy did, the gallant one left the umbrella remain where it was.. on the
green rexin seat.. a disowned white nylon umbrella with red rose buds.

The
Don Bosco boy picked up the umbrella. He took it away with him, hiding it like
a stolen jewel in his khaki satchel.

Then
like the a July cloud he cried and cried.

Is this the what they call love?

 Here I have two of my fav poems that I learned
somewhere during my school days and I still treasure both of them.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know,

His house is in the village though.

He will not see me stopping here,

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer,

To stop without a farmhouse near,

Between the woods and frozen lake,

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake,

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep,

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.