Time Travel

A whiff is all it takes. Not a fraction more and she was there. Back where she never wanted to go again. For the same reason you hate looking at plastic chocolates when you are hungry.

Begging the memory to last a moment more...begging the aroma to linger a fragment more. Long enough to take it all in. But it never does, does it?

What exasperated Albert and led him to a point of no hope, the Olefactory senses did. Time travel.

The stinging aroma of a Clove flavoured facewash.

The smell of the water there, as she splashed it on her face..erasing the signs of a late night.

The bathroom and its memory of the disinfectant.

White bedsheets. The smell of them. The smell of them when she hid underneath. They were never meant to smell so good...

The artificial room freshener, and it stirs a brilliant image.

The curtains long out of use. Unmoved, dusty, memorable.

Damp towels and they smell of him. They were never meant to smell so good...

And a jolt from the dream. Lather on my hands. Of the Clove flavoured facewash.

Time Capsule

Happiness with a backward ticking clock can be a real pain in the ***. Nevertheless, if it is happiness like you've seldom experienced before, you can't but thank the lord!

Looking at him waiting for me at the station, and I knew in a moment that my lone journey for 17 hours was worth it. Worth the time and worth the lies.

Humans though, tend to focus almost involuntarily on something dperessing even in the most blissful of moments. And so did i. 'Only 38 hours and this will be over' kept playing in a morbid tune in my head even as i hugged him at what was only the beginning of the best 38 hours of my life.

What followed can be best described as surreal. An eerie time warp. The moments seemed to move slowly, sometimes even stopping and suddenly out of nowhere, a day had passed.

*Think about the glass half full...half full...half full*

Endless laughs, priceless smiles, a tear here n' there and a content soul.

Blink of an eye and its already 37 hours. Last minute dinner at the same place as the breakfast when I arrived. The cycle is completed.

Anyone who has said goodbye from the window of a moving vehicle knows that there is no greater sorrow...

Love in the afterlife

Raindrops on my face,

I drank them yesterday,

The raindrops made me smile all day.

They mask my tears now.

I hate the rain today.

It smells like a monsoon 6 years back... the high, oh the high of happiness! The indescribable joy of innocent love.

The memory of a loving look and a gentle caress is all it takes to make the world come crashing down. The thought of that warm embrace...and it will kill me today.

And crashing down it came..the world.

Check my pulse. I'm dead.

I hate the rain today.

The Benevolent Pain

Destiny is a bratty child with a twisted mind. You know, the ones that give you the creeps in horror movies, twisting their dolls' heads and performing amputations on Bambi.

Game plan #1 of twisted child destiny (not to be confused here with destiny's child): Not giving you a thing you really wish for and then throwing it in your lap when you are in the process of getting a lap dance; who wants wishes on their laps then!

2000: It is a childhood crush. Strong enough that had she been 22, she would have mistaken it for love (not very unlike most people that age). But she is 13 and sensible enough to recognize it as a mirage. Nevertheless, it hurts. (The hurt part is the side dish of twisted child destiny's 7 course meal)
One wish of that phase of her life, "I want to talk to him". Twisted child makes sure she doesn't. She pines and dreams until there is no line between the real and the virtual. She has built up endless conversations with him in her head. That keeps her happy until she is past the mirage. Chapter over.

2009: She is sitting across him on a couch, laughing with him, content in knowing that he is one of the closest friends she has today. Without realising, she has started walking down the famed memory lane, thinking back to the day she was standing in the canteen, waiting for him to talk to her. "I can't find anything to watch on t.v. and now I've finished surfin-- Hey, are you even listening? I am talking to you!" he says.
Talking! Twisted child sure has a sense of humour!

But she is in love today with someone else, and happier than she could ever expect. Would she have found this love then, had he talked to her in the canteen back then?

"Why am I hated so?" wept the poor child destiny, "when all I want, is to do good?"

Rufus the Stubborn

"NO, NO, NO, you don't understand! The Earth is round! R.O.U.N.D.!" said Christopher Baba Columbus to his friend Rufus the Stubborn. "I know because I've been around it!"
"Hogwash!" said our Rufus [here, Mister Christopher suffered a mild heart attack]. "So long as my porridge doesn't spill from its bowl, i will believe the Earth is flat, thank you." And he continued munching on his apple pie.
Until the day he decided to take a night-time stroll to the edge of the earth after a particularly heavy meal. That day changed everything for Rufus the Stubborn and he went to being called Rufus the Scared for the rest of his life.

But this story is about Rufus the Stubborn and not Rufus the Scared.

"Never invest too much of affection and hope in any relationship. You are not strong enough to grapple with the debris, lest it falls." Rufus was told by a person much beloved to him. Incidentally, since he was stubborn, he just pooh-poohed the advice and went on loving unconditionally, his friends.
Medulus was a new friend Rufus made one day. Days changed to months and years and Rufus did not realise how Medulus became his best friend. He shared all his secrets with Medulus [whom he called Meduloo, when he was tipsy with all the ale]. Ale, and girls and his favourite apple pie, they bonded over. Medulus was the person who understood him the best, he said to his beloved advisor. "Why, i think he is my closest friend. And so it shall be forever!"

A year later, Rufus was sitting at his mahogany desk, his nib shivering, as he wrote about the wounds of his heart. The advisor was silent. Medulus no longer drank ale with Rufus. He went horse riding with Thomas, who claimed to care about Medulus the most. 'Med' and 'Tom' enjoyed a lot. Rufus never bothered to argue, because he knew nothing would affect his companionship with dear ol' Med.

His dear ol' Med.
Like his dear ol' Earth.

How wrong he was then. How wrong he is now.
He is Rufus the Scared.

I am Rufus the Scared.

Dark Alleys

Confessions are weird things. You unravel yourself, little knowing that you are getting tied up with that person.

It was 4.00 am. [No I do not have an obsession with that time, but it happens so that the most interesting of events tend to occur then].

A dim passage. It smelled of old bedsheets. A dizzy head. There is noise in the background. But it gets muffled by the high spirits. It is almost soothing. She leans on the wall opposite mine and slides down to the floor. I sit too. Words are not hurried. [Those in hurry, after all, do not lean against walls of dim passages smelling like bedsheets.]

Like an avalanche, the words cascaded; unexpected, cruel. Anger, shame, guilt. Darkness like none other. Digging into graves. A disgust no language can dare to convey. "You are the only person who knows this". That sealed it. The bond between us. There was no language for comfort either.

Just silence in the dim passage.

The pain was hers, not mine. Why was it then, that i fought to remove shards of glass from my chest?

wrong clock

there's something about waking up in the evening after a good day's sleep.. more of a mellowed morning for you there. very mellowed.
get up... no wait,change mind... under the blanket again. *ahh, the bliss* one of the many perks waking up in the morning doesn't afford u.

blinding silence [no nightjars here]. a voice. NEVER in the day. ALWAYS at night. uninterrupted work, uninterrupted reading, uninterrupted eating. and i wonder why the world is sleeping.[oh that rhymed :D]

perk no.587: no NIGHTMARES in the day.

Chaos theory

[a confession before i start. i am not going to bother with the capitals. its mildly distracting to have one finger on the shift key everytime you begin a sentence.; strongly distracting stuff i can handle, like mothers yelling in the background, a phone no one is willing to answer, shreds of mango stuck in the infinitesimal gap between my teeth. yes, that i can manage. it is the mild distractions that eat me out.]

saw 'the butterfly effect' yesterday. i wasnt a movie buff until recently. but a persistent cinema-crazy boyfriend finally managed to coax me into watching a few movies. so glad he did.
the opening line of this movies goes : "it has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world". it's called the chaos theory.
kept wriggling in bed after watching it. a dialogue stuck from it. "you could be killing your dear mother in the future just by sitting in this room right now." SO TRUE *shudders*

we live life as a permutations and combinations of CHOICES....none of which make much sense or bear any importance when they are made, which is the eeriest part of the whole thing. it is unimaginable, the impact they have on our lives in the future! how then can you make the 'right' choice if you dont even KNOW you are making a choice! chaos it really is then.

apt example: me being in a relationship with prathamesh is because one fine afternoon in 2003, i decided to step out of the house to buy a gift for my parents' wedding anniversary. because it is there that we met after our 10th std classes had ended. and from then on, there was no looking back.
but it is not just that one choice, you know. it also depended on trump's [the mtnl network] server being crashed. it failed to charge any money for smses that you sent in those days. voila! we chatted away via smses to glory! brought us so close that eventually we had fallen straight into the famed love-ditch before we could realise.

oh well, come to think of it, my relationship depends entirely on a WINDOW in my bedroom being open on a fateful day when a gush of wind made a loose page from a paper fly, catching my mother's attention. it advertised the chate classes [i know,im ashamed of being in them, but what the heck, it made my life anyway!]. otherwise, i'd never have known a prathamesh mhatre.


REAL SPOOKY.

4 o'clock musings

Ok..phew! The 'phew' at the beginning because there's far from 'few' stuff (ok, sorry for the lame pun) crammed in my brain right now... it feels like a muddled cocktail. But before i can sort any of that, i believe i must give some proper "good morning judges, teachers and my dear friends" type of introduction.

Let me begin by saying that i am...or rather was an anti-blog person. I'm much of an anti-'anything-that's-popular' person too, come to think of it. [Btw, it takes herculean efforts to type in the "propah" Queen's English after years of mindless LOLing on the net.]
Although I must also mention this extremely important fact about me that you MUST know.. I am a highly unpredictable person. I love change.

And so it goes to say that but naturally i changed my opinion on blogs suddenly, one fine night-morning (a rather ungodly hour) while readin the paper.[i do all sorts of unexpected and unconventional activities at night, so overlook the fact that i was reading a newspaper at 4:00] The 4th anniversary of Mumbai Mirror. Really good stories of people from diverse walks of life. It stirred something in me to write too. -Decided against it *nah, its too common*.
-Convinced myself into writing one nevertheless but decided to push it till tomorrow. *it's fuckin 4 o'clock and you have the first day of your final yr tomorrow at 7:30. Blogging at 4 is the last thing you should be doing*
-Gave up, got up and got writing. [Left my much cozy bed and sat on a ridiculously uncomfortable stool...need to buy a good chair for the computer]


Enough with the silly introduction. I'm bored already.