Beer, Music & Getting To Know Each Other

You must remember this?

Once upon a time there was a boy. Once upon a time there was a girl. Both were fond of beer. Beer was simple and easy - no commitments. Given so many types, there is always something for everyone. And you never drink beer to get drunk; you drink beer to drink beer. Of all the beer joints, in all the towns, in all the world, they walk into this one. Two tall glasses of foggy weiss in front of them, the concoction still retaining the character of the grain it was made from, and the continuous effervescence making it look like an abstract display piece with a hypnotic magical potion swirling inside. Smiles, sips, and a little chit-chat. All three of which serve little or nothing towards "getting to know each other."

It is a confused term, really. Getting to know each other. If they are getting to knowing each other, well, when are they going to get there? And what are they going to know after they get there? And what are they going to do after they know they got there? And if they have gotten to it, what happens when there is nothing else to know? The term suffers from an extra preposition and an extra verb. It should be distilled down to just... getting each other. There's nothing more, either they get it or they don't.

Once upon a time there was a boy. Once upon a time there was a girl. Both got this.

A kiss is still a kiss.
A sigh is just a sigh.
The fundamental things apply

Once upon a time there was a boy. Once upon a time there was a girl. Both were fond of music. The boy and the girl both collected music, making playlists as they swam through life. It was as if music gave a soundtrack to their lives - important events, people - in a life otherwise only filled with background noise. The songs aged and matured as their surrounding evolved, with them. And curating music with someone made it all the more special.

When this boy and this girl met, the boy asked if he could propose a song. The girl asked which one. The boy extended "As Time Goes By". The girl said, "I think it is the beginning of a great playlist."

And when two lovers woo
They still say I love you
Moonlight and lovesongs never out of date

Once upon a time there was a boy. Once upon a time there was a girl. Both got this.

Starry Night

Her hands were on his cheek, his hands around her waist, as they lay there facing each other.

She was gently slapping him on his cheek. He, smiling, gripped her hand and tried to shove it away. She burst out laughing. She managed to free her hand and once again, continued with her playful slapping, him giving up and playing along with her this time, she unable to contain her laughter.

Their baby, comfortably nestled between them, had his sleep broken. She shushed him hurriedly, and began to caress her child. She felt a little guilty now as they lay there silently. Their child fell asleep once more.

He murmured something, she listened intently. She re-assured him, and gently caressed his cheek. He smiled. He was happy. She was starting to fall asleep. He carefully adjusted her head-rest. He kept looking at her with his folded hands below his head, unable to fall asleep.

He will have to find someplace else for his family to sleep tomorrow.

Adjacent to the ledge they slept on, a person tried to squeeze his bike into the last remaining gap in the small parking area there. A car honked and zipped past, narrowly avoiding the person coming towards it on a bicycle. The last few shops began to pull their shutters down. A young professional, carrying a bag-pack after a long, tiring day at work, stopped at the corner paan-shop for a cup of tea and a smoke. A group of friends stood beside the shop as they laughed at each others' stories about their day, each holding a cup of tea in one hand and a cigarette in the other. There was a queue of annoyed people at the nearby A.T.M., waiting to withdraw money and go about their lives. Across the street, a fat middle-aged man alongwith his two spriteful children, followed by his wife and his old mother, slowly walked towards their car in the parking-lot to get back home after having a sumptuous dinner at the near-by gourmet restaurant. A street-light flickered. The leaves on the road-side trees rustled in the soft, gentle breeze. The sky was clear, but stars were not visible. They twinkled somewhere, silently, alone.

None of it mattered.


[Based on an eye-witness episode.]

lost

He hated midnight flights. On top of that, this was going to be a 16 hour long flight, straight to the other end of the world. Courtesy lost sleep and timezones, he would be miserable for days. He had been having nightmares about the journey. As they announced the call for boarding, he dragged himself towards the gate to be greeted by a mocking 'Enjoy your flight, sir.'. As if they knew.

He boarded the craft and walked towards his assigned seat. He had the middle one, the other two seats were unoccupied.

She made her way through the aisle, stopping near him. She struggled to put her luggage into the overhead bin. He tried to get up and help, but by then she had already managed it on her own. She pointed towards her window seat next to him, followed by a 2-minute awkward choreography of letting her get to her seat. As they took their seats, he turned to her and gave a well-do-we-have-any-other-choice smile, which she tried to acknowledge but pretty much ended up ignoring him. 'Alright, so be it.'

The safety announcements designed for 5-year-olds began. The craft taxied, sped along the runway, and took off. Entertainment was switched on, wine and dinner started being served, the air eased. He turned towards her to make a conversation. She was going to be next to him throughout the ordeal, so he might atleast make it not awkward.

'Hi.'
'Hi.'
'Do you fly along this route often?'
'Yes.'

It seemed to him as if she made too much effort to return a casual smile. 'Doesn't seem interested in a conversation', he thought. Fine.

The trolley stopped beside them. He asked for white wine to go along with the peanuts. She took red. He put on his headphones and turned his entertainment on. His pick was 'Wall·E'. She looked outside the window while they sipped their wine. 'Why do they make these peanut packets so difficult to open?!', he thought getting annoyed. Everytime! As he managed to open his after much struggle, he saw her beside him struggling too. He popped a peanut in, sipped his wine, and continued to watch his movie. After looking at her struggle some more, he took his headphones off.

'May I help you with that?'
She smiled sheepishly.
'There you go.'
'Thanks!'

Food was served soon. More wine was poured. As she started with the appetizers, she began...

'I love this movie.'
'Yes, it's an amazing movie! This is probably for the hundredth time that I am watching this.'
'Haha, really? I don't think I love it that much. Which is your favorite scene from the movie?'
'Dancing, surely. It's amazingly done.'
'Yes. For me it would be the last scene though. I swear I must have cried during that scene.'
'Haha. Well, for what it's worth, I didn't like how they ended the movie. Wall·E shouldn't have gotten his memory back. Sad endings are more real.'
'So, what are you? Clinically insane, or a sadistic psychopath?'
'Haha, c'mon! Firstly, neither. Secondly, I have a theory about movie endings...'
'...which is?'
'Most movies actually end about two or three scenes before they end the movie.'
'Uhuh.'
'See, for me this movie ends when we learn that Wall·E lost his memory. Everything after that is mostly appeasing the audience. This happens in so many movies!'
'Ah... I see. So you are a sadistic psychopath. Do you do it professionally or just as a hobby, being a psychopath?'
'It's a hobby.'
'I don't need to raise any alarms then. Yet.'
'Not at all! And if you needed to, you wouldn't have gotten the chance. I am that good.'
'Haha. Hey listen, I am sorry about earlier.'
'The peanuts?'
'No, before that. It wasn't nice of me.'
'I know. And the company of sadistic psychopaths doesn't help too much, does it?'
'Cut me some slack, will you?!'
'I will, if you stop taking it all too seriously.'

Both smiled. Paused. 'So...', they both began together. 'Please go on', he said.

'So...why do you hate flying so much?'
'How did you know that?!'
'It's hard not to know when it is written all over you.'
'16 hours in a metal tube being hurled across the sky, huddled like cattle and you can hardly sleep, with nowhere else to go. What is there to love about it?'
'How about the fact that you are going the reach the other end of the planet in less than a day, all the while dining, sipping wine, watching your favorite movie? And you're flying! Just look outside!' The moon followed them, the stars twinkled, and the clouds glistened.
'Haha, yes of course. Maybe travelling frequently makes you grumpy. Or maybe, the reason of the travel affects how you feel about the travel. You are right, I have no reason to complain. Do you travel a lot?'
'I do. I love travelling! More like, I like the journey as much, if not more, than the destination. Travelling gives you a lot of time to introspect. Sometimes you meet interesting people along the way.'
'I'll take it that you mean me (too) when you say that.'
'...and you had to ruin it. Bravo, monsieur!'
'Merci!'
'Haha. Alright, dinner's done. I'll see if I can sleep for a while.'
'Yes, the time-zone monster awaits us too.'



He finished the movie, and slept. Several hours passed before they woke up. He began...

'You know, I haven't slept with a girl before.'
'Wow, you did NOT just say that!'
'I did.'
'And it was a horrible pun.'
'I know.'
They both laughed. Paused.

'Do you love someone?', she asked.
'That is a little too personal, don't you think?'
'You did not think about that before sleeping with me?! And your reply makes me sure you don't.'
'I am not really sure what that means. Love. Everyone else seems to know.'
'Well, maybe you need to fall in love once to understand it.'

'...and that's exactly what everyone says! It's so pissing off! Do you? Love someone?'

'So it isn't personal if you ask?! Well, it's complicated. I don't think I would be able to explain.'

'Okay. Tell me, then, what do you think love is? Is there a definition? What is your definition of love?'
'Love is bottomless empathy, born out of the heart’s revelation that another person is every bit as real as you are. To love a specific person, and to identify with his or her struggles and joys as if they were your own, you have to surrender some of your self.' ^[link]

'It's like the way you feel about travelling.'
'Meaning?'
'That the journey is as much, if not more, important as the destination.'
'If you put it that way, yes.'

'That's what I feel about "Life".'
'As in?'
'As in, it's like a journey. People's paths cross with each other, and they become experiences for one another. I met you here, and I will remember this. But I don't know if we will ever meet again. In life we meet people who walk one-way with us. It's who comes back with you that counts. I think maybe that's love.'
'Then the movie doesn't really end there for you.'
'Meaning?'
'Two scenes before Wall·E ends, it doesn't end there for you. Wall·E comes back in the end, doesn't he?'
'I never thought about it like that before.'



He exited towards the terminal. It had been a long journey, but he felt surprisingly fresh. As he walked, suddenly, the airport was filled with piercing white light coming from a single source. He shut his eyes and almost knelt. The light began to fade, and when he could see again, he saw that he was alone there, and the airport deserted. He began to move hurriedly towards the exit, the place looked liked it had been ransacked. He came out from the exit, she stood in front of him. She was the only one there besides him. He didn't know what to do. She walked towards him, smiled, and gently said, 'Let's go back.'

loss

It's almost evening.

The river rages relentlessly, its water white, its roar deafening.  

It's a normal world not too far from here. 

People must have gone to work, worked hard throughout, tired by the end of the day. It must be someone's first day at work, and they must have been excited about it. Someone must have gotten their first salary, and they must have been ecstatic. Someone must have been fired from their jobs for no fault of theirs. Someone must have gotten a raise or a promotion, and they must have felt really proud.

But here, here was different. Time didn't seem to move so quickly as it did out there, in the normal world. I have been sitting here since morning. I like doing that.

Children must have gone to schools, and their teachers must have taught them, about the world. There must have been exams for some of them, and some must have done really well. Meanwhile, a few others have not cared about their results. They will show the world their potential one day. One day. Or at least that's what they would like to believe. 

I had never been here before, here, isolated, not a soul for as far as eye could see, except birds, trees, and the River.

Someone must have met someone and must have been bowled over. Someone must have told how they felt about the person they loved, for the first time. Someone must have had a big fight with their partner, and must have said things which cannot be unsaid, and it must have gone irreparably wrong. Someone must have asked their partners to marry them, and their partners must have said 'yes', overwhelmed.

Someone must have gotten married today, to someone they deeply care about, with a promise to be together for life. Someone must have filed for a divorce today because it just wouldn't work. Some happy couples must have had a baby today, and they must have been feeling joyous. They must be thinking about doing their best, and giving their children the best possible future. Someone must have died. Their loved ones must have mourned, and remembered their legacy.

It happened when the moon and the sun were in the sky together. I saw smoke rising from distance, that dragged me out of my stupor. I started walking towards it first, and then running. I started to feel out of breath soon but I keep going. It looked bad.

As I began approaching it, I saw a burning hut, engulfed in high flames. There was hardly anything I could have done to save it, it was too late. A middle-aged uncouth man stood beside it, looking at it, smiling, naked. I stood stunned for a while, then I went closer and I frantically asked, shouting at the top of my voice to make myself heard above the din, "What are you doing?"

He looked at me, hardly surprised at seeing another person there. He didn't need to shout to make himself heard, and calmly said, "I lived in this hut for several years. This, and everything inside, is all I had come to have over the years. I burnt it."

"Why?"

As if I didn't see the obvious, he replied, "Now I have nothing to lose. I am free."

I couldn't think of anything to say.

A stream of water rose from the river, and started flowing mid-air towards us with an intimidating force. I didn't have much time to react. The stream flowing along its serpentine path, drowned the hut and the man. I remained untouched by water, and could hardly see or make sense of anything in all the chaos. In a flash, the stream receded, the river flowed as usual, the hut and the man disappeared.

affection

"Beautiful!", She said, as dawn cracked. A thick sheet of clouds hid the ground beneath, and it had tears from the rising jagged hills waking up to their morning elegance. "Just look at the colors, you! It's like someone has thrown random hues at the sky, and they all mix in a specific way and present themselves to us such that all of it makes sense. Like there is some hidden order in all this chaos, a greater purpose. Isn't it overwhelming?", She asked innocently.

I could only smile. To me, She, with all her charm, looked more beautiful than nature's art collection on display in front of us. She caught me smiling mischievously.

"What now, mister?", She asked.

"Haha, yes, yes. Of course. It is really beautiful. I am only slightly amused at the deep affection with which you were describing it.", I said.

"Affection? What does that mean?", She said, with a quizzical look on her face.

"You know, affection. Like, love. Gentle, tender, warm, fuzzy. Or, any other adjective that you may prefer."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, mister. I have deep affection for the rising sun. More than I have for you, perhaps. Deal with it."

"I never really got how people use that word, you know. I have been thinking about it."

"Which word? Affection?"

"Uhuh."

"What is there to think about it? Like you said, it is like love."

"Well, yes. Maybe not the word affection, then. But the word that follows it in standard use - 'for'."

"For?! Now for what do you have a problem with for, now?"

The sun was up now, the morning brighter. It seemed like everything around us was getting off their beds, with ruffled hair, rubbing their eyes, in order to get ready to jump into action for a long, eventful day ahead. I took a deep breath, the fresh morning air acting like a stimulant.

"See", I began, with a demeanor of being about to say something really profound, "I think the word 'affection' is derived from 'to affect'. With that assumption, saying that one has affection for something, or someone, becomes grammatically incorrect. Because the effect of the affect is really on the self."

She turned to look away from me trying to hide her smile's genesis, into the far-away hills, which looked like they were getting all dressed up to leave for work.

I continued, "Whether I have affection for you or not, is really for you to decide. All I can know on my own really is whether I have affection from you, or, to put it reversely, whether you have affection for me. It works the other way round. So yes, when someone says that they have affection for someone, or something, they really mean that they have affection from them. You know, for that matter, every person I have met in my life, and each of my experiences with them has contributed to what I am at this moment, in however small, little way. All of that has led me to now. I have affection from all of them, really. There is no denying that."

She turned to look at me, smiling. After an extended pause, she said, "For once, you make some sense, mister."

"Haha, err, thank you?", I said casually.

"I think I understand now what you meant earlier."

I smiled. "I read a story some time ago. I want to recite a few lines from it which I really loved -

“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”

“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”

It got me thinking. We have everyone's affection, afterall. Without us, or them, knowing it all the time. There is so much love in the world, and we fail to acknowledge it."

The clouds had started to thin, and everything around us was wide awake, ready, raring to go.

She grinned, now. "I will acknowledge it for you, mister. I have deep affection from you."

I laughed.

We turned around to go back home.

Stranger than fiction

Before sunset.

Good morning. It's a wonderful life, jackass. High and low since you went away. Gone with the wind, the lady vanishes. Dazed and confused. That was then... this is now. Devil wears prada, following breakfast at Tiffany's. I'm not there. Wish you were here, the best years of our lives. Stand by me, life is beautiful.

My life as a dog. Coffee and cigarettes. Thank you for smoking up in the air. Kiss kiss bang bang. What's up, Tiger Lily? 'I know where I'm going!'. Whatever works.  Man on wire, walk on the wild side. Small time crooks take the money and run! Breathless chase. Speed. Snatch. Catch me if you can. Dirty rotten scoundrels. There will be blood. Kill! Carnage, pulp fiction. Extremely loud & incredibly close. Anatomy of a murder, blood simple. The act of seeing with one's own eyes, eyes wide shut. Shame, the killing. Anything else? Apocalypse now.




Before midnight.

Hunger. The unbearable lightness of being.

It happened one night, October sky, the Milky Way, city lights. Through a glass darkly, I saw the odd couple. The boy in blue, that girl in yellow boots. A beautiful mind, little miss sunshine - the dreamers. He said, she said - "I love you to death", "I love you too, like crazy." Stolen kisses. Night on Earth, stranger than paradise, bigger than life. Spellbound. And the ship sails on. Play it again, Sam.




Before sunrise.

A walk with Love and Death. The green mile. The long walk home. A night to remember.

Once. 2 or 3 things I know about her. Great expectations. Letter never sent, somewhere lost in translation. The silence, the prestige, unforgiven. Bad timing. Do the right thing. Make it right being there. Requiem for a dream. The pursuit of happyness, love, and other impossible pursuits. Finding Neverland. Inherit the wind, eternal sunshine of the spotless mind singin' in the rain. Dil chahta hai the road to El Dorado, days of Heaven, city of God. Good morning. It's a wonderful life.

Amour.
Hollywood ending.

most beautiful

I
-

I will say that you are the most beautiful girl in the world, and it will not be true.


In an absolute sense, that is. For one, to call you the most beautiful girl in the world, I would have to see (meet?) all the girls in this world. Not that I don't like this idea, but it would be an impossible thing to do. And that is not the only problem. I mean, you could easily dismiss it as me talking in hyperbole, not that you would have a problem with it, would you? And even otherwise, it could be dismissed as me being cheesy, albeit in a good way, cheesy still. Or, it could be challenged by anyone, no?


II
--

What songs, what words, sentences should I write?

She walks with unsaid words and unshed eyes;
A few steps behind me in the moonlight.
She knows, and that I know not, yet she shies.
Behind me, even the moonlight cries;
So her lips unseal, eyes weep, wrong made right.
She knows, and that I know not, yet she shies.
Doth mystery revealed make romance bright?
Her silence I hear and away I glide.
Romance be mystery, and mystery tries
the truth of my heart, healing from hurt pride.
The shadow remains still, the water dries...
Songs, words, sentences I could never write
A few steps behind me in the moonlight.

III

---

"I love you."

Heh, saying it even in front of the mirror is seeming so ridiculous, and I can only imagine how ridiculous it would be in front of her. Maybe I could put it differently.

"Jab se tumse milaa hoon, bas tumhaare hi khayaalo mai khoya rehta hoon. Tumhaare bina mera naa aar hai naa paar. Mai tumse aur sirf tumse pyaar kartaa hoon." Yeah, right. Bollywood would be such a perfect way to go. Damn you, Bollywood! Real cinema, please?


I have to get every expression, every gesture right. It has to be perfect. I will put on a smile first, give an elegant pause, look into her eyes, and just say it. If only I had some practice before! How, I know not, this mirror thing is surely not helping me.

I should also be prepared for everything that she could say. I have to play every scenario in my head, and have an appropriate response for her every response, so that I do not look like a fool after saying it. She could say "Huh?! What?!", and then maybe leave or something. I am a little scared of this scenario, I wouldn't know what to do or say. Well, I kind of know what to say.

I know that I have to tell her. She must know.

On an off-chance, she could also say, "I love you too." And that would make me the happiest person on this planet, not that it is going to happen. But if I am getting prepared for everything, I might as well do an exhaustive job.

We think that a number coming on a dice is a random event. It is not. It is a direct function of how a dice is thrown, and we could come up with a perfect model which could exactly predict the outcome on the dice. This, on the other hand, is a completely random event for me. For I have absolutely no control over it, nor am I in a position to predict the outcome. It has to be lived through to know.


I met her in the evening. She looked beautiful, like always. It is amazing how when I meet her even today, I still feel like how I felt when I met her for the first time. It is such an amazing feeling, something one would want to hold on to for life.

We ordered something to eat, while I was still trying to figure out the perfect time to pop the words. I was nervous. No matter how much prepared one is, when the time comes, it seems like an impossible thing to do. I decided to say it between the food and the dessert, that way, atleast the evening would surely end on a sweet note. And while I made this decision, a part of me hoped that the food never finishes.

Time passed quickly, as is always the case when I am with her, and we ordered dessert. I now had a small window within which I had to say it. How?! My heart was racing! I think I let my nervousness show, even. "I love you", I said. The world around me moved in slow motion, and it seemed like there she was, in front of me, in suspended animation.

Phew, here comes the dessert.


IV
----

When I met you for the first time, I remember the electricity. You looked beautiful. Enchanting, really. I don't really remember the major parts from that evening, what we talked about etc. But I remember such minor details that I amaze myself. Details which would never matter otherwise. I remember the sounds of your laughter. I remember the heating up of my ears when I embarrassed myself because of something really stupid I said, and you giggled still. And how I kept on going about something so obvious and trivial, and you looked and smiled. And how you kept going about something so obvious and trivial, while your hands rolled a chocolate-wrapper, which we had had then and there, before finishing up the whole box. I remember how you said that you needed to leave in another 5 minutes, and then stayed on for half-n-hour. And then before leaving, gently added, "So when do I see you again?". I remember how the entire evening felt like 2 minutes. The minor things about that encounter were the major parts of the evening, really.

And then so many other times.

People say that love is nothing more than a bunch of chemical reactions in our head. But isn't it amazing, that this other person could cause such strong feelings? I mean, if we were to dismiss love like this, then we should also dismiss having good food, coffee, chocolates, life, us, because even those are just a set of chemical reactions.


I remember when we met one afternoon, and we were just walking along the street. It was just you between me and the setting sun. The sun-rays trickled through your hair, glistening. I couldn't look away. It seemed like nothing else in the world really mattered in that moment. And in that moment, in that one, single moment, you were the most beautiful girl in the world, in an absolute sense. And then several such times, again.

I'll tell you every day of my life, that you are the most beautiful girl in the world. And when I do, I do not mean right then. I would really mean the moment in which you really were, and I would mean that because I have seen you in those moments, and so many such moments we would have spent together in which you would have been.


I will say that you are the most beautiful girl in the world, and it will be true.

Dil Chahta Hai

------------
Note 1: For those special few people.

Note 2: 'Dil Chahta Hai' is very dear to me. Its organic quality has led my movie's interpretation to evolve as have I. I doubt anything else comes even close.
------------

Agar mai tumse kahoon ki mai tumse pyaar karta hoon, tab bhi nahi?

Mai tum se aur sirf tumse pyaar karta hoon. Meri har saans, meri har dhadkan, mere har pal mai tum aur sirf tum ho.

Mujhe yakeen hai ki sirf isliye janma hoon ki tumse pyaar kar sakoon, aur tum sirf isliye ki ek din meri ban jao.

Tum meri ho, aur agar tum apne dil se poochogi to jaan logi ki mai sach keh raha hoon.

College was great. Sleepy days, crazy, sleepless nights. Nothing could stop us, and we could face everything. We were the world and we needed nothing else. It seemed complete. The balance had been achieved.

Mai kabhi soch bhi nahi sakta tha ki hum dono kahin aise baith ke baatein kar rahe honge.

We set out on our own individual paths, trying to make our own destiny, fighting our own fights, running our own races. Along the way, maybe we had left the things close to us far behind. Struggling, really. Without a clue about what hit us and when. Without realizing that time didn't run as slowly as it used to. And irreparably so, maybe. Maybe. Life happened?

It wasn't complete, and the balance wasn't perfect.

We all have, or eventually will, meet someone. And we will know we have met that someone when:

1) An 'I hate you' from her, to which you can reply with a smile, 'No you don't', comes second only to a 'I love you too' when you say 'I love you' to her.

Tum bhi naa, daraa diyaa naa bechaare ko.

I hate you.

Or, 2) 

Swarg ke darwaaze pe khadaa hai, magar andar nahi jaana chahta

Wo khuda se ek din maang raha hai, Cressida se aakhri baar milna chahta hai

Wo use bataana chahta hai ki wo usse kitna pyaar karta hai.

Agar use wo ek din mil jaaye, to use hazaar maut aur kabool hai.

Or, 3)

Agar wo mere saath hoti, aur kisi ne aisi waisi harkat ki hoti,

to mai use jaan se maar deta.

I would've killed him.

2), 3), must not be taken literally, of course, on account of it being too extreme. Anyway.

Imbalance, incompleteness, imperfection leads to balance, completeness, perfection. Full circle, if you may, stronger, surer than before. Imperfections made us complete. The sum was always greater than the parts, double, even more. Some, perfect, parts, not so much.

The beginning will be the end, the dream still kicking and wildly alive:

Agar mai kahoon ki mai tumse pyaar karta hoon

tab bhi nahi?

Mai tumse aur sirf tumse pyaar karta hoon

Meri har saas,

Meri har dhadkan

Mere har pal mai tum ho

Aur sirf tum ho

Mujhe yakeen hai ki mai sirf is liye janma hoon

ki tumse pyaar kar sakoon

Aur tum is liye ki ek din meri ban jao

Agar tum apne dil se poochogi

To jaan logi

Ki mai sach keh raha hoon

Dil Chahta Hai...

One things.

One TV. One comfy couch. One washing-machine. One fridge. One sofa. One dining table. One king-sized bed.

One high-end computer. One big screen. One projector. One fast internet connection. One great camera.

One nice house. One luxurious car. One stunning bike.

One more update. One more like.

One phone. One number on speed-dial.

One hobby. One quirk. One sport to be good at. One instrument you can play. One act which no-one else can.

One girl who made you nervous. One teacher you admired.

One movie that makes you cry. One song that makes you smile. One book that you never forget.

One restaurant where everyone knows you. One bistro where you know what is available off the menu.

One crazy adventure. One unforgettable ride. One journey that changes you.

One trip around-the-world. One dive into the sea. One climb over the mountains. One jump from the sky.

One place to call home.

One big family. One group of amazing friends.

One companion. One lover. One confidant. One partner. One love.

One extra mile to walk, together. One kiss, again. One more look, into your eyes.

One walk along the moon-lit beach. One photo, to cherish.

One moment of grief. One moment of despair. One dead-end. One failure.

One moment of faith. One moment of strength. One moment of weakness.

One opportunity. One instance of pure luck. One moment of success.

One dream realized. One dream that never came true. One dream that you held on to.

One moment of real accomplishment.

One second of fear. One minute that just didn't seem to pass. One hour of patiently waiting. One day that felt like eternity. One month away from everything. One year that didn't matter.

One memory to hold on to, for happiness. One memory to hold on to, to always remember how it felt to be sad.

One moment of forgiveness. One fault, forgiven.

One moment of joy. One moment of desire. One moment of bliss.

One moment of anger. One moment of pain.

One moment of feeling really tiny. One moment of feeling insignificant.

One moment of mystery. One moment of magic. One moment that takes your breath away. One moment of surprise. One moment of delight. One moment of disbelief. One moment of beauty.

One miracle.

One moment you can never forget. One moment of awe. One moment of grandeur.


One moment of truth.

One last drink. One last smoke.
One last glimpse. One last sigh.

One life.
One things.

II

I didn't know if that had been a dream; or if this was a nightmare. Whether it was U who kept him living; or whether it was I who kept her living in him. I thought I gets it. But I didn't.

I was so far away from home, far away from everything familiar. Too caught up with things that did not matter. Too caught up to get a moment to even think about home. And yet, I missed U. Every second. This, could never feel like home. Maybe because it was U who made it feel like home. I saw the world, I went places. I wished U was there with him. To share. Why it mattered so much to him, I did not know.

"Get over it. Big world.", they said. "One life.", I replied. The bigger challenge is not to find your princess.

It's been some time now. It seems like it was only yesterday when I felt on top of the world. How did this happen? Or maybe the better question was, when did this happen? I used to think, trying to understand why it meant so much to him. We are flesh and bones after-all and we will all perish one day. It is the inevitable truth. Does it really matter who you die with? Maybe it's about living with. Yes, I knew who I wanted to live with. That dream, to live in a beautiful house, with a sedan parked in the driveway, a lush green lawn with flowers in front and a kitchen-garden at the back of the house, raise kids, have a family, that dream, was still living. I had seen the dream more clearly now. I had seen who else was in the dream with him.

It's been a long stay away from home. It was time to go back. Home? I wasn't so sure. I sat by the window on the plane, with his earphones plugged in. It was night and the moon was full as he flew across the seas. A song started playing. It was U's favorite song. The clouds below seemed like an endless ocean, calm and serene, happily flowing, oblivious to what went on below. None of that mattered, it seemed. And just like the explosion of colors when the sun sets in the ocean, I saw the full moon in the starry night, and I could see the reflection of the moon in the clouds, in so many shades as he had never imagined, dazzling streaks of silver dancing across the scintillating sky. I was stunned as I witnessed this magical choreography. It looked angelic. And as I beheld this spectacular sight, and as I was listening to U's favorite song, I drowned. Drowned in thoughts, of what was, what is, and what could be. The only imperfection in this moment was that U wasn't there beside I to hold his hands and to whisper those words into his ears, again.

------------

As U walked out of the airport, oblivious to the life that was waiting for him, I stood there, waiting for him. U saw her standing, and didn't know what to do. He was stunned. U walked up to her. "I thought it wasn't a movie. It might have been afterall, and I still don't know it ends.", U said.

I gently smiled, and had a tear in her eyes. Her lips trembled. "I love you", I said.

I, U, became V. And V make us extraordinary.

I

I is a normal guy. I likes to watch his movies, play his games, read his books, you know, the whole shebang. I has a lot of friends too. I never felt alone. I's friends though, happy as they were, used to talk about the girls they saw and met, about how beautiful they were, and how the girls giggled during the dinners they took them to, and how their giggles made their hearts skip a beat. I was always amused when I heard these stories. They were fun. Both when the stories progressed beyond the first dinner, and when they didn't. I enjoyed the stories, but never understood them. Post-pubescent babble, I used to call it. It wasn't that I didn't want to be with a girl some day. Oh no, no. I always intended to get married, to an intelligent and mature girl, live in a beautiful house, with a sedan parked in the driveway, a lush green lawn with flowers in front and a kitchen-garden at the back of the house, raise kids, have a family, you know, the whole shebang. But, I found the all girls to be, alike. They lacked, you know, a character, a personality. And I thought his friends were lame when it came to girls (or, had an ulterior motive). Good for them, I thought. Until one day, I met U.

The ground beneath I's feet trembled, or maybe it was just I's legs. I had always believed that to know someone, one needs to talk to the person, spend time with the person, and if one is lucky, one will get to know the person. But I was surprised when just one glance felt like I knew U. And a split second later, I thought how lame it sounded even inside I's head, so I better not say it aloud. To anyone.

I decided to talk to U, spend time with U, you know, get to know U. I did that. I had thought that it was only a matter of time until everything would become normal again. On the contrary, I found that his first instinct got reinforced, his feelings, stronger. Weird, I thought. This had never happened to I before. I was baffled. I decided to talk to his friends about it. Of course they had experience with such situations, they might be able to help him figure it out.

I told his friends about how beautiful U was, how U's one smile lights up his day, how I cannot stop thinking about U every breathing moment, and how every time his phone rings, he excitedly looks at his phone to check if U had called, about how he eagerly waits and plans for the few hours I sometimes gets to spend with U, about how I could do just about anything if it made U happy. And after I had finished the monologue on how U is the most extraordinary person I has ever met, I heard what he had just said, and realized, I was turning into them.

Now, I found himself in a situation he never thought he would be in. I was lost. I thought about it. Now I gets it. Maybe he was wrong before, and his friends weren't lame to talk about girls that way. Maybe they really felt when they talked about them. I wanted to express his feelings.

"I love U", I said.

U smiled. I didn't know what to do. Kiss? That's how it happened in movies, I thought. But this wasn't a movie, I was sure. And the more time he spent thinking about what he should do next, the more awkward he knew it would become. His friends had warned him. "Are you sure about the 'I love you'-return?", they had asked. And I had replied that it didn't matter. What mattered was for him to be honest with his feelings. "Dreamer!", they had said. I did not let it get uncomfortable. I had expressed his feelings, and that is what mattered. Anyway, they went for a movie afterwards, and later had dinner. The noisy world suddenly started feeling disturbingly silent to him. When he was at her doorstep, bidding good night, U asked, "Why?". And I told her everything he had told his friends before. U smiled, and went inside. I went home. I could not sleep that night. I's friends told I that I was only a normal guy, and U was an extraordinary girl (from how I had described U, they said). It did not make sense to them. Why would she be with him? Seconds ticked away slowly, and the night passed.

 The next morning I's phone rang. It was U. I nervously took the call. "Why didn't you kiss me?", U asked. "Because I thought it wasn't a movie!", I blurted. They both laughed. "We make us extraordinary", U said.

"I love you.", she said.

He

He loved. And He believed it had one center. Like a circle. He had always thought of a 'circle' as perfect. And He, truly felt perfection.

The center of the universe He lived in had shifted. For the first time in life, He found, and discovered, He.

He loved.

Hit, He was wounded. Circle wasn't so perfect, after-all.

Perfection was in imperfection, two centers, not one. An ellipse. He learnt, He loved.

She

The first time; He saw, She was in the crowd. She wasn't a part of it. He smiled.

She.

She came and smiled. He froze. He stood stunned by the smile She wore.

She giggled. He felt safe, and extremely happy. Like She.

Like, after a long journey, He thought, "Now what?".

He had several questions. The answers, if anyone, She had. He never asked, She thought, "He isn't like the others!".

He gave in. She stared into the oblivion.

She.

Clean Slate

"Congratulations Class of '11!", the Board reads. It is from before the Summer. It has been that way since we had the Final Party in this class for the graduating batch. It has been that way for over two months now. And it has been sad. Dust. Cobwebs. I, too, a mere Duster, have been lying here, neglected. Until now. Now, is my favorite time of the year. Now, is the time I have been waiting for. Now, is exciting. Yay! Finally! Now, is here!

"What Now?", you ask? Wrong question! The correct question is, "Why Now?". Ah, and pardon my excitement, and pardon my not being brief, and pardon my being cryptic. I have had no-one to talk to over the Summer. It has been lonely. And you should know that I truly, with all my heart, appreciate your being here, and listening to me, a Nobody. I really do.

I will answer the question in two simple words. Clean Slate. You see, the cleaners will come in some time, and wipe the Board squeaky clean! Using me! And voila! Clean Slate. The Board will read, "Welcome, Class of '12!". And it makes me so proud that it is me, I, who will give this new Class, Clean Slate! Now, good Sir, is the time for me to answer your original question - "What Now?". Ha ha! I know it is obvious to you now, wise Sir. Let me still answer it.

Now, is a fresh beginning. New, bright, cheerful, curious faces, starting a new chapter in their lives. And it is poetic, that they do so with a Clean Slate in front of them. Over the coming year, they will learn new things, meet new people, discover themselves, and in the process, will be building themselves, and preparing themselves for the next chapters in their Lives. I have seen so many batches come and go, with similar anxieties, similar doubts, about life, about the world, and about themselves, and I have seen people growing, and facing failures, and maturing, and being sad, and falling in love, and being distressed, and being happy, and being miserable, and being successful, year after year. Ha! And, humble Sir, I must tell you, in the End, in the End, they will all turn out just fine. All of them. It's an exhilarating experience for me. Despite knowing that it will all fall into place in the End, the journey of each and every individual is full of surprises, and it amazes me! Everyone has their own story. Similar, yet different.

And you should see them ask questions! Valid, sometimes juvenile. But I think it's a part of growing up. You know, there was this Professor who used to teach here a few years back. He taught Philosophy to the students. A bright young kid asked him a most difficult, yet simple question - "What should I do to be Happy in Life?". I stared at the Professor in horror! Was there one definite, or even a right answer to this question?! But, kind Sir, I still remember how the Professor replied to that bright young kid, and it made me happy.

The Professor simply smiled, and with calm, replied to the bright young kid, "Look at this Board. This is your Life. You will write the chapters of your Life on this. Write as much as you can, knowing that...", and he walked over to the Board, and he wiped it, and he continued, "... that one day you will have to start all over again with a Clean Slate. When you do, embrace it. For you are lucky, for a fresh opportunity, for you to try something different-ly this time. Be strong. Persevere. Strive, to make every chapter of your Life a work of Art, a literary piece, and know no remorse when the time comes to wipe it all off. Do it with a smile, and you shall know Happiness.".

I don't know how true the Professor's words were, maybe they weren't. But that day, I truly felt proud of what I do. I offer them a Clean Slate. To make a new beginning, and write the next chapter of their own little Adventures. Thank you, gracious Sir, thank you for listening. Time flies, and before we know it, the Board will read, "Congratulations Class of '12!"...

Memory/memories

Thud. Whoosh. Sprinkle, sprinkle, sprinkle. Everyday. Every freakin' day. This gardener would turn on the tap, and I would go round and round and round, and sprinkle and sprinkle and sprinkle. You know, when I was young, I was happy, happy happy, every freakin' day. And then, I got bored of being happy happy, and then it was me, just me, sitting here, doing my routine job, and well, being bored.

Today is different. I don't know why. You know, there is something about today. It's bright, it's sunny, and there is lush green grass all around me. And, I know that the lush green grass would not have been there if it was not for me! Yeah! I should have been proud all this time. I don't know why, but I kind-of feel over-whelmed today. And, I am smiling!

You know, a thought struck me today. The water, the water that I sprinkle all around, they are so joyous. They have always been. Every single day. Without exception. They would gleefully fly through the air into the grass, and make it green, lush, and fresh! And then I got thinking, what made them so happy? Maybe, just maybe, it was their lack of memory. They would travel all over the world, in clouds, in rains, in bottles, in drains, what not! But these, the ones right here, they are here from God-knows-where, but now they are here, all fresh and sparkling, and, happy. Probably because they don't remember what they have gone through. But they know they are here right now, and that now is awesome, and that makes them happy. Ha, but they wouldn't remember this later. What's the point you ask? At least they are happy now. :)

I have had a long life. Yes, I was young and happy once. Every day was a joy. Now all there is are memories. Good and bad. Sometimes, I feel, it would be so nice if the bad memories went away, just like that. Sometimes I wish I don't remember anything at all. Then, I think, maybe that's what makes me me, thats what makes me unique. Maybe thats the way it was meant to be.

I think I know why I feel this way today. This girl, standing there amidst the crowd that never acknowledges me, she has been looking at me. And she is smiling :) Yeah, for the past half-an-hour, she has just been standing there, and has been looking at me. And she smiles when she feels that occasional spray on her face. She is enjoying it! Haha, let me play with her! It feels awesome. Yeah. You know, I can see the wonder on her face when she gets to see that occasional rainbow in the spray of the water. Awesome! Yeah, today is different. This girl made it different for me. Ah, a memory to cherish this shall be...

...there's such a lot of world to see.

Cars, etc.

I like cars. There are so many types of cars. Cars come in so many different colors. Some cars are brightly colored. Some cars are elegantly colored shiny black. Some cars are fast, very fast. Some cars are small, and cute. But then, who doesn't like cars? Everyone wants a nice ride! There are so many types of cars that a car can easily show what you are, a lot more about you than you'd imagine.

I got a job, like everyone else. I earned money, like everyone else. I wanted to buy a car, like everyone else. I didn't buy a car, unlike everyone else. Because, a car to me wasn't a convenience (conveyance), it was more of a dream. I will save lots of money and get the best car for myself, the car I wanted all my life. That was the dream. A cherished dream. Yes, everybody around me got a car for themselves. So what? Let the dream go? Peer pressure? First car. Its all about the first car. First car is special. In fact, first car is (should be) the car. Some of my friends keep changing their cars. They don't care about the cars they drive. They use them, sell them off, and then get a new car for themselves. Lifestyle, I say. One of my friends even offered me his car, that I buy it "second-hand". Ha! Second-hand? Is he out of his freakin' mind? Anyway, some have more than one car. Is it like, "I have 5 cars, but the blue one is my favorite car"? Though, some have more than one cars because - one, official use, one for the wife, one for the kids and so on. Some have rich dads, so that solved their problem of getting a fabulous car. I wouldn't take money from my dad to buy a car even if he could afford it, or even if he wanted me to. I will not (and should not) get my first car just like that! Some went abroad and got amazing cars for themselves. Boy, cars are cheap abroad! I sometimes wonder if I should get an imported car. But then, It'll cost me a fortune to get an imported car. (Earn more? Goddamit! >.< ) Oh, cars are so difficult to choose. Though, I think, once you really admire and like a particular car, there should not be much doubt. It is more like, 'the car chooses you', not the other way round.

Some, on the other hand, got really fat paychecks right from the start. Yes, they had worked hard for it and they deserved it. Yes, some among them shared my dream too, and they realized their dream of getting a car, a really good, nice car, early on in their lives. Oh! I still remember that day when my friend, my very close friend, showed me his red, shining brand-new car. Boy, was he happy! And that car, a mighty beast! The twinkle in his eyes. The sparkle. I will have that feeling one day. No, there was no envy. But the dream got more resolute, and I, stronger.

Some, on the other hand, bought a cheaper car. Yes they couldn't afford an expensive car, and compromised their dream somewhere along the road. Good for them, I say. Get what you can afford (deserve rather) rather than what you dream. Different priorities, I say. I am not like that though. Stubborn, you may say. "I will have this, nothing else". Ah what the hell, who cares? Get what you want and let me have what I want, how I want.

Oh, and yes, it has been long since I have been doing a job (not that long, but long enough). My current job has been paying me very well (I wouldn't boast, but heavy the paycheck is). Stick to the dream was all I did. And work for it. My bank balance is swelling. I think it is time that I get what I wanted all this while, I have waited long. Ah, and before leaving, might I add, that the dream was always rational. Of course I wouldn't have waited to be so old to buy a car that I wouldn't enjoy the thrill or not be able to drive it. That would have been a silly thing to do. Really.

The Skeptic and The Believer

Once, on the long winding road of Life, Skeptic and Believer met...

"What stops you from appreciating the beauty of Life?", asked Believer. "There is so much magnificence, such grandeur all around us!"

"How can you expect me to? I know there is Happiness, but then, there is Sorrow. How can you choose to see only the Happiness, and completely ignore Sorrow?", replied Skeptic.


"I know. But You and I are lucky to be able to feel and know the Beauty, that that is charming, that which not everyone is lucky to be able to see. If I make those few people around me see what I see, I have done my bit. And if everyone does his bit, all there will be left is happiness, and everything will be right."
...and suddenly, the Skeptic turned into Believer.


Believer went to visit Happiness. But today, there was an eerie silence, a frightening quiet in the atmosphere. Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl, Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl. The Joker and The Thief broke into the house, and they had brought powerful weapons - Fate and Destiny. They shot him with those, and killed Happiness, thinking the secret to his prosper lay in his Gold. "This must be the way out of here", said The Joker to the Thief. And all this while, Believer found himself incapable to do anything to prevent this.
...and suddenly, the Believer turned into Skeptic.


Once, on the long winding road of Life, Believer and Skeptic met...