Ending?

And so, one by one the list is being ticked off... But when you have been to your farewell party, then you have just hit the rock bottom... there’s no beyond, isn’t it?

The two years, play out in front of my eyes, like a movie on a giant screen... You watch, sometimes from outside, and at other times, may be you are one of the characters inside the celluloid. All the light, noise, conversation, smell, sound, song, colour fuse to create what we call memories. Not that one remembers all of it. More like snatches put together, to make it look like a real movie.

Snatches.

• The yellow door of my room at d-hostel. The corridor.
• Room No- 834. Roomies.
• Room No- 833. Pseudo Roomies.
• Prahlad, beginning to warm up at 12 in the night.
• The door of Room no. 306 closing... Shit, I’m gonna miss my attendance.
• Statistics lecture- what is that?
• The ‘lifecycle stages’ class.
• Someone stole the library register?
• Sitting for the Economics FCQ, wondering why life is so unfair.
• Sitting at Legends with friends, drinking Old Monk, thinking, may be life is not so unfair!
• WAQ submissions.
• Is there a fire in the building?- no placement season is on!
• Is there a carnival on campus? – Well, sort of, it’s called NEEV!
• The e-mail ‘The French FCQ has been cancelled’.
• The singing in the bus on the way to the city.
• The definition of qualitative research.
• Chai, Vadapao, and smokes at Shivaji.
• Is it time for our evening tea yet?

Snatches.

Sounds.
• ‘Hello Hello... yes yes... Good evening everyone’.
• In the corridor ‘Papa topper hai!’.
• ‘Is batch ke G mein D nahi hai!’.
• Friends talking.
• The alarm clock going off at 6 in the morning- sound of the impending FCQ.
• ‘Operations and marketing batch to apply for this job’.
• ‘Tonight’s gonna be a good night’- batch party.
• Friends talking.
• ‘mujhko ranaji maaf karna’ -Legends.
• The bat hitting the ball, the crowd erupting into joyous cheer- Symbi-olympics.
• ‘Last Kiss’- ‘90% on the rocks’ on stage.
• ‘Sutta na mila’- Milaap.
• Random songs on mobile phone at the water cooler- stoned.
• Friends Talking.
• Late night arguments with the long distance counterpart.
• Very late night conversations with campus counterpart.
• ‘Did you see the two of them together taking late night walks?’- Gossip.
• Friends talking.
Sounds.

But coming back. When you have been to your farewell party, then you have just hit the rock bottom... there’s no beyond, isn’t it?
Well, I disagree. Farewell parties are just a way of saying, that it has been an absolute pleasure- these last two years, and I’ll carry these memories forever. Carry these sights and sounds and will remember all of you. For the good reasons. It’s just a way of saying- Good Bye and Good luck, till the next time we meet....

Spaces

The red and blue neon sign read SPACES. Not that it had much space around it. A shop bang in the middle of the city... on one of the busiest streets.

The boy and the girl walked past the sign. She pointed it out and smiled at him. They had been talking about it. Spaces. And how important it was to them... Their own private, personal space, where they wouldn’t let anyone else in... Not even each other.

They shared a cigarette and walked into the bakery, for dessert. It had been a lovely summer evening so far... A visit to a couple of art galleries... Dinner and drinks at their favourite place and now they had walked into the famous old bakery for dessert.

The evening was drawing to a close though. They walked out, walked towards the station, perhaps a little silent than usual. Their destinations were in opposite directions. So, they would take different trains. The girl walked over to the other platform. The boy stood and watched the space growing between them. The train hurled in, like a giant metallic earthworm. She got in. It picked up speed, and then vanished into the dark tunnel.

The boy’s phone beeped. A text. He looked at it, smiled and nodded. It read “May be its over rated after all... Spaces”.

Not, Not

I think it was a bad idea, and I refuse to stick to bad ideas. So, I’m giving it up. This whole ‘non-blogging’ thing --- bad idea. So, I’m starting NOT to NOT blog again.

I realise that I’ve never really spoken about my everyday life, in these last two years... And I think that was a good idea. I’m all for sticking to good ideas. So, I’m not going to talk about my everyday life.

But I can tell you some of the things that are crossing my mind right now... good and bad ideas... therefore I’m not sure whether to hold on to them or let them go...

Anyway, so I’m thinking:

• I’d like to go to Tokyo during spring, sometimes.

• Have you had the feeling when you want to leave something badly and hold on it as well?

• Schrodinger’s cat

• This song called ‘If there is something that I might find / Look around corners’

• Why is my roomie snoring so much?

• Lamp shades

• About the last two years: My takeaways.

• I should buy a new phone...

• About the next two years.

• Home.

• Friendships. About the spaces between them.

• A wooden bench in the middle of a lush green field.

• Whether I can hold on to the ‘not- smoking’ stand.

• Deep strong brave soulful guitar strumming.

• If I go insane, please don’t put your words in my brain...

Conclusion.

Do you wish to continue on this blog?
-May be...

Have you run out of things to say?
-Quite on the contrary. I have so much to say, that I don’t know where to start from.

So are you saying, you are going to write, not going to write... which one is it, I’m confused!
-Well, I guess I am just saying that I’m not going to write for sometime... But I guess I’ll come back...

-But why this hiatus?
a) Well, the hiatus, started quite some time back... so this is just a formal declaration
b) I’m busy... genuinely, really, really busy
c) Nobody visits my blog anymore, what’s the point :(

-Are you unhappy?
Why do you say that? No, I’m not. Don’t go by my puppy face. :) I’m happy. Yes, not excitedly happy, but very calmly happy.

-Any reason for this formal declaration?
Well, I didn’t want, my last post to be called ‘Confusion to Conclusion’... I wanted it to be called ‘Conclusion’. So here it is...

The conclusion. (Shuts the laptop, walks to the window, and lights a cigarette)

Confusion and Conclusion

The Kirghiz tribe believes that as the moon completes a cycle- one from full moon to darkness, from completeness to nothingness- its dying parts waft away into the sky... like sawdust... giving birth to stars...

As I stand here today, looking at the moonless blue and at the plentiful stars dotting the summer sky, I wish I could pick up each one of them, carefully and vigilantly, and put it back, sawdust by sawdust to spot the moon again... travel the other way round...

My mind is flooded with thoughts... not worries... thoughts... like the night... where the stars gleam through sinisterly, etching strange patterns on the mossy walls of ols buildings. You wish you could see things more plainly, see them how they are. But all that is visible is the shadow on the wall. Shadows from your past... shadows of the future... and you are stranded wondering about your present. You try and chase the shadow... but all that you are left with is the cold feeling on your hand from the wet mossy wall.

But somewhere deep down, you know, that it's not far away... the reversal... when the moon will start to materialise into the sky... and before you know it, it will be a full moon night... and you'll see things clearly... not in the glare of the white sun, but in the gentle silverweed of the moon... You'll feel the summer breeze caressing your face... and you'll know... just know...

By then you would have completed the cycle... the cycle from confusion to conclusion...

Fooled by Randomness...

15th Jan 2009. I was 25. She was 23. Coldplay. Lenny Kravitz was kravitzing. The statement. It’s really hot. My body.

You might be a big fish in a little pond, doesn’t mean you’ve won.

Now the words have died. It’s just the mumbled music and the guitar playing... And a finger... Random Names... Stupid Laughter... I love this song... Mine made you laugh... Make it nice.

And were stoned good... Good stoned. Stone. Why stone? Rock. Were rocked.

And so I picked it up... no, not it. Them. I picked up two stones... rubbed them together, intending to light a fire. A stone fire.

Everybody wants a happy ending

For so long you type, and this is what you come up with? A happy ending!

What do you think of yourself?

The end.

It’s not, it can’t be...

A Little High

A little high is how I like it. A little high like now. High enough to forget, but little enough to remember. High enough to live, little enough to end it. High enough to let it go, little enough to hold it back.

And so I stand at the pub, alone. A little high. The band plays my favourite song- wish you were here... The woman in red dress sits on a high stool at the bar, slender fingers tapping the rim of the tall glass... the man in stripped shirt, loosens his tie and orders for one more scotch on the rocks... the head bangers in the front row, their beer bottles held high, long hair following the rhythmic pattern of the music... I stand, and watch memories playing out in my head. Memories of happier times... when people smoked in the pub... when the heavy scent of tobacco, mingled with the fragrance of expensive perfume and wafted away, creating a heavy concoction... times when I would stand in the front row, chant out the lyrics and bang my head to the beat of the song... times when I would hold a woman close to me... Her hair touching my face... my arms around her waist... swaying slowly to some old love song... And then the memories dissolve... Only the lights remain... blue and yellow and green... and shadows... and reality... and the little ‘highness’... and the little loneliness...

They say that parallel universe exists... and therefore a man exists in parallel dimensions... Different copies of him... Like photocopies... and out of those multiple existences, only one of them is happy. The rest of them stand at the bar, taking swigs at their rum and coke... a little high...

They also say, your blog is like your diary... Well, I disagree... how I wish, it would BE like a diary... how I wish, I could write EVERYTHING I wish to write... how I wish, I knew, how to say, what I WANT to say... how I wish... But, I’m just a little high. High enough to forget, but little enough to remember. High enough to live, little enough to end it. High enough to let it go, little enough to hold it back....