Long Gone

Long gone is he who picked me up every time I stumbled across the doorstep. His arms were strong enough for me, and the falls were never in the back of my mind when they happened anytime later. My fulcrum, I was never afraid of any stone that crossed my way. I was never wary of any stone either. It was like a smooth sail, as smooth as it can get. My sea was calm. My sea was blue. My air carried the smell of rain and my rain brought with it renewed freshness.

Long gone is he who was by me through all evenings. The dark evenings were not dark enough when he used to light me my candle. The evening tea never tasted better than when I had it with him. He was my partner in solitude. Solitude? I always knew loneliness. He made me understand solitude. To him, solitude was music. It became my favourite piece of music too. The breeze brought with it the notes and with it followed a knock at the door by somebody called "bliss".

Long gone is he who put me to sleep every time I toiled hard to close my eyes. His caress was my biggest stress buster and the world's most potent sedative. We used to chat away to sleep as he sat by me, looking into my eyes as they gradually went deep into the corners of slumber. His words were music, and it never mattered if the radio was blurting out some weird metal track. He could outdo any interference, could outwit any trick. He was my superhero, too strong for anybody to affect my sleep.

Long gone is he who woke me up to sunny mornings. Waking up to his call was never a pain, and days never went berserk as long as he had wished me luck. Tiredness was my antithesis and zeal was my best friend. Work worked wonders and I was happy. Looking forward to the evening was something I had developed into a habit. My days were not long as long as I got his calls. I knew he would be waiting at home, for me to come back.

It had been a wonderful day at work when I returned home that evening. I thought I would open the door and surprise him. But I stumbled as I tried opening the door. The evening tea was bitter and the air was calm. There was no music as I pushed the windows open, the notes absent. I tried sleeping early but I could not. I could not feel the caress as I desperately tried to sleep. I did not realise when I closed my eyes.

Now that the sun has a blanket of clouds on and the morning is not sunny, I try to wake up.

But I can't.

Won't Let Go

Autumn comes and you decide to
Come to me as I continue to flow;
The chill and the air befriend you,
As I unsuccessfully try to wait, try to go slow.

I envy the tree which bears you all the time
The tree is there to stay;
I wish time went static, once if at all
Then I could have you, for once have my way.

But as I contemplate, I mock the tree
It only sees you smile;
I share your sorrow as I lose myself
When we go together, go that extra mile.

I lose myself, I merge into
The greedy ocean does have no complaint;
You don't care, neither seem to
Thousand miles !!! Things really do get faint.

The spring sun shines as you smile back
From the tree I used to know
You are back with the tree, in all glory
As I wish I had not let you go....

"Dilli"-dallying (1)

Forget the spelling. Dilly-dallying it would be, but I would rather go with "i". Why ??

Because I will not say "Delhi". Dilli it is and Dilli it will be. Probably Indians will never understand what "romantic" is all about. But the photographer in me will never allow "Delhi" to replace "Dilli", or for that matter "Kolkata" to replace the love of my life "Calcutta".

A Calcutta lover visiting Delhi for the first time can never be apprehensive. He can just be biased. I was no exception either. Not being blessed with the macho manly guts that men so proudly flaunt, I could not, of course, verbally mutilate Dilli and its stories. What I could do, was blindly smother Calcutta with all my attention, all my praise and all my love. You realise you have a strong point against me here ? Yes, apprehension leads to bias :)

My poor sister, a big time "Delhi" lover (I decided to be gracious and not challenge her romance quotient), had to bear the brunt of all my Calcutta love for a little more than 24 hours. The practical human being in her was her only defence, as "you should not judge without having a look" remained her sole objection. And how mercilessly did I manage to "overrule" her objection !!!

Every argument was attacked with a verbal overflow of Calcuttan culture, sweetness of the people and photogenic brilliance of the city. The feminist in me had gone into hibernation as the poor girl was left shaking her head all the time.


...

If Life Could Be A Steam Engine

If melancholy whispered as it left you alone,
Seemingly musical so,
If strands of hair felt pensiveness caress;
Life sees off monotone...

If curvy trails did then smile back,
Grins spread over angles,
And voices rhymed back as they left;
Like bells ringing off ankles...

If tunnels seemed so special though,
As daylight sneaked in through..
Did worried thoughts get long their due,
With answers so very few...

If stations came and stations went,
As burden made its way..
If life could be a steam engine,
There would be no grey.

The Shore and the Waves

The crimson red horizon calls out, and I see you;
We hug, smiles unable to fake an excuse...
The warm sun shines down as we continue our banter
Tales, old tales, our tales, your tales, my tales.
The sunny morning when we met, and smiled,
That rainy afternoon when we had the time of our lives,
The breeze flowing by, wishing us good,
Tales of us, the beauty, the serenity and the peace...
"Peaceful beauty", and people think we make that;
Ask the greenery around, they will tell...
The evening sun is cool, as slumber does not disturb us
The breeze flows by, smiles and greets us.
The most splendid display of graciousness, the moon, makes us smile.
As you decide to retire, I think,
My existence cannot be static, I cannot exist without you,
You never leave me alone, and I know,
Ask your sand and he will tell.
I want to be a part of you, I yearn,
I reach out for you, you are there, yet I have to return.

The Unassuming Hypocrite (3)

It was half past seven when he reached home. It had not really been a happening day. It was not that "happening" was like the theme of his life. A sedate life, very few people around him, and he liked it being that way.

He switched on the radio, his sole companion since the very beginning. It almost sort of got his state of mind every time, and he believed in this.

"Kabhi dekho man nahi jaage, peechhe peechhe sapno ke bhaage..."


A rainy winter evening, and the hypocrite had just returned from a fortnight's vacation.

The Hypocrite: Hey.. What's up ?

She: Hello. Nothing much. You say...

The Hypocrite: [pause] I just landed. God, how I wanted these two weeks to get over.

She: But why ? Wasn't home good ? You so wanted to be back at home.

The Hypocrite: You will not understand sweetheart.. Hold on.. I have a call waiting.

[switches calls] hey Mom. I just reached... yeah... as in an hour back.... was unpacking, thought I'd give you a call once that was done.... Will do that mom...

9937948494

The Hypocrite: Hey, you disconnected ?

She: Yup, you had another call waiting for you right. You done with it ?

The Hypocrite: Yup. That was mom.

She: And you are done speaking with your mom in a minute ?? What ???

The Hypocrite: But I was talking with you right ? I can always call her back later.

She: You can always call me back later too. You are impossible.[disconnects]

[pause]


[phone rings] The hypocrite turns around, picks up his phone; "Yes mom. I just returned... Will call you back in a bit"

"Wahi chunkar khaamoshi yun chale jaaye akele kahaan".

He smiled.

...

The Unassuming Hypocrite (2)

"Bindiya lagati to, kampti thi palken maeeri...."

Lips moved and he tried to do a Palash Sen as he walked into the foggy streets of deserted Calcutta. Fog was generally not a very Calcuttan thing, but then, we always try to imitate others (most people would hate to admit that). It was as if Calcutta was imitating Dilli and trying to make Dilli lovers nostalgic.

"Whatever..", thought the hypocrite. This was his nemesis. He never had been his greatest supporter. Every thought of his had "REJECTED" written all over it and every explanation had "NO" stamped all over.

It was a rainy evening and the hypocrite had just shifted. A new session had already begun. 9937948494.

The Hypocrite: Hello

She: Hello. What happened?

The Hypocrite: You do not sound well. Everything alright ?

She: You are utterly impossible. It seems that the world ends for you every moment, right ?

The Hypocrite: I was just concerned.

She: Well, I was sleeping. You must think before thinking.

The Hypocrite: Alright. Did I wake you up ?

She: Not really. I would have woken up anyway.

"Whatever" !!! The hypocrite thought and continued walking.

"Ab kya karoon... kaase kahoon...e maeeri..."

He did not do a Palash Sen this time.

.....

The Unassuming Hypocrite (1)

The unassuming hypocrite looked out of the window towards the road which ran by his house. It was a small little pad which he had gotten built for himself, tidy, and just as he would have liked it. A wall adorned with photographs most people would look at and smirk. But then, he liked them.

As the radio blurted out, "a love that will never grow old", the unassuming hypocrite looked out again. A scooter passed by and he blinked slowly.

It was a cool summer evening when the phone rang;

The Hypocrite: Hello.

She: How have you been ?

The Hypocrite: Kinda good. What difference does it make when you are not around ? Every freaking day is as monotonous as it can be.

She: Okay. By the way, I had been to our college today.

The Hypocrite: [pauses][deep breath]. So ?

She: My scooter broke down and he dropped me at home.

The Hypocrite: Okay. And I thought I would have been the first one.

She: You are impossible.

Indeed, he was impossible. But then he was affectionate as well. It was a paradox that very few people liked him.

He shrugged and decided to go for a walk.

....