I know you need time....

So I’m waiting…..still waiting
It’s been days, and weeks,
Weeks, that have turned to months.
Waiting for you to open up
Waiting for you to return.

How long will it take
For you to muster the courage
And take those steps
Towards me again.

How long will it be
Before you find an excuse
To tease me, to make me blush,
To make me laugh again.

How long will it take
For you to get over the past,
To forget those last moments
Spent beneath the stars,
And to laugh over those last words we shared.

How long will it be
Before we share,
Our “crappy” chats again,
Before you message me,
Twenty times a day, again.

How long will it take
For you to return,
To be your usual self,
How long will it be
Before we meet again.

I’ve grown weary of the stolen glances,
The hidden smiles, the expectant looks.

How long will it be,
Before you smile at me again
How long will it be,
Before you talk to me again.

I want you to know—
I’ll be waiting,
Waiting for the coldness to pass,
Waiting to feel the bliss that once was.
I’ll be waiting,
Waiting for us to be friends again.

Spring of 2008

Time: Feb…Around 1 week to go for V- day.

There’s something magical in the air- almost stifling in its intensity yet refreshingly light. Misery bordering on maniacal depression and yet intertwined with indelible joy. A sense of euphoria, yet tinged with pain.

As I sit in front of my much abused machine, life that has changed and the lives that I have discovered in the last couple of months, each with one common thread, come to mind…

The heart has its reasons which reason knows not of- Blaise Pascal

It didn’t take long for what started off as an innocent school romance to grow into an abusive, monstrous relationship for Anu. Everytime she ended up with a bruised eye or a bleeding upper lip, she would resolve never to get back with him again. But all would be forgotten everytime he came back with those tear-filled eyes, pleading forgiveness.

Three years and nothing much had changed in their relationship. Fortunately, she realised that she must end it and has stuck to that resolution for some time now.

Last week, one of her friends, someone who, by Anu’s admission has the reputation of being a playboy and who she more than likes, proposed to her in true filmy style- in front of his parents, on one knee.

Anu is on Cloud 9 now. Having known Anu as a person who gets carried away by the ups in life, and also knowing that Love is blind, her friend Priya hopes that this time round, she is in a truly happy and long-lasting relationship.

Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love– Albert Einstein

Priya was once asked a question by a person she regarded as her friend, philosopher and guide, “ Don’t you have any boyfriends?”. To which she replied, “ No, not boyfriends, but I have many good friends who happen to be boys.” Touché. That was a long time ago.
Priya is still the kind of person you want to pour your heart out to, just after a couple of meetings.

More than once, Anu has asked her if she is it was just friendship that she shared with her friend Rahul. Priya, always knew that the answer was a “No” but also wondered if she would ever meet anyone who would regard her more than just as a friend.

After going through a harrowing time of her life, during which both Siddharth and Rahul proved to be the best of friends that one could ever have, and literally being given a new lease of life, Priya met him. Just when she felt she couldn’t be happier in life, she was embarking on the best and the most magical time of her life.

It hardly took a week or so for them to become close friends. He began to trust her to such an extent that he began to seek her advice on many personal matters. Together, they were the recipe for total fun and madness. People who Priya when she was with him, felt she transformed into a totally new person- crazy, demented and so very different from the old, grandmotherly Priya that they had come to know.

Priya didn’t realize what it was during those couple of months when she came to know him.
It was only when she moved away, that she began to realize what it was that she felt for him. Some of you may raise an eyebrow at the thought of somebody falling for someone in just 2 months and may even label it as a mere crush. But sometimes you know what it is when you meet the right person. You really don’t need more time and nor do you need to know anything more about the person. You just know and the more you ignore it or try to talk yourself out of it, the more you are just deluding yourself.

Now that Priya accepted that it was no more friendship, at least on her end, she felt she had to tell him the truth in the hope that if nothing at all, it might atleast put an end to the thoughts in her mind which seemed to get directed to him all the time. She was surprised with herself and almost shocked but she had to admit that she was getting crazy about him.

Every minute that she spent with him, there was something that kept accusing her of being dishonest with him. She couldn’t bear the thought of him telling her about his latest blind date and asking her advice on how he must proceed, knowing that he was daft when it came to women. Priya decided that the only way to end this was to come clean with him. After pouring out her predicament to the (thankfully much saner) Ghaza, who gave her the required dose of courage, she told him one evening.

His reaction was close to what Priya had expected. The first reaction was one of shock and helplessness. Priya told him immediately that she understands if the feeling is not mutual and if they could still be friends. The poor chap, totally overcome with this sudden turn of events, blurted that yes, of course, they could still be friends.

Over the next couple of days, his reaction turned to anger, than to a “it-happens-in-life” attitude and then finally into indifference. He began to avoid her and had somehow convinced himself that the best way to deal with this would be to consider her as nothing more than a stranger.

Priya was heartbroken for a while. She had her fair share of sudden bursts of tears at times and places that would have embarrassed her under any other circumstances. Other times, she went through a daily routine like a zombie. At times, she had a mad urge to throttle him and couldn’t even bear to hear his voice. One morning, she just woke up and decided that this cannot go an forever and that it is high time she moved on.

Today, both of them still become a little conscious when they are around each other. Their interactions, which often used to last for hours, are now limited to a perfunctory “Hi” and “How are you”.

Priya knows that one day she will look back and laugh at what has happened but right now, all that she wants is to be friends with him again. Priya is a smart girl. Friendship or not, she knows it is best to move on.

There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief.—Aeschylus

It would be an understatement to say that Rahul is a hybrid version of Jim Carrey . Among other things, he is a flirt of the first order and has more than one funny bone. Naturally, he has always been a “Hit” with the girls. People ( note, it is not just women) love spending time with him and would agree that the best way to do so is to listen to him narrate his infamous (mis)adventures with girls, the pranks he has played on them and the punishments he has had to suffer, in return.

As the No. 1 prankster of the group, he has often made Riya the butt of his jokes. Soon after Rahul met Riya, he realised that Riya wasn’t just one of the several other girls that he had played pranks upon. After going through the rigmarole of “She’s just a sweet (not to mention, stunning!) girl”, and “ We’re just friends”, and “It’s just a crush maybe- just a passing phase”, he acknowledged that he couldn’t keep deceiving himself forever.

Strangely (so he thought), once he admitted to himself to that he had feelings for her, he found it harder to speak candidly to her as he once did. He tried ignoring her. At times, he pretended she was a stranger to him, in the hope that his “extra” feelings for her would evaporate, leaving behind the friendship which started it all.

Some of their mutual friends began to notice this change in Rahul whenever Riya was around. He would behave coldly towards her, not even acknowledging her presence and at other times, realizing it was stupid of him to treat her that way, would go back to being friendly with her, only to keep oscillating between these two sets of behaviour. Needless to say, this oddity still confuses the poor girl.

It has been close to 2 years since then and Rahul has still not told Riya how he feels about her. Yes, he is a chicken-hearted, as you can expect all love-struck guys to be when it comes to expressing their love.

At the age of 16, Rahul secretly opened the bag of a girl who happened to be his classmate and got a burning, red cheek as the reward for this very enterprising task. He once slapped his dance partner on a Dandiya night (she went on to become his sister-in-law, but let’s keep that story for another time) with broken spectacles and another swollen red cheek ( which fast became his trademark feature) to show for it.

You would think that for someone like him, 2 years is more than enough time to come clean with his girl. The only thing preventing him is that he feels Riya would never say “yes” to him even if she did have any feelings for him. Rahul is aware that in the past, when Riya liked another fellow, she still had to break off with him coz her parents wouldn’t agree to their relationship. Rahul has realized that Riya would never say “yes” to him as her parents would never accept anyone outside their community.

Rahul has sobered a lot in these 2 years. People attribute it to the “effect of tides of time”, but they will probably never get to know how an incredibly mature, sensitive and sensible person has grown inside the carefree, ever-joking, “life-is-a-play” attitude Rahul.

Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction - Antoine De Saint-Exupery

Ghaza is someone you would call a “classic, traditional, no-nonsense belle”. A very down-to-earth person who has been a pillar of support for her family – a working mother, a brother who is yet to come out of his teens and a father who has had to retire from his once active life due to his ailing health.

Ghaza met Praveer around 5 years ago. Praveer was the one who approached her and tried to get her to accept him. He waited long for Ghaza, who, knowing the implications of a cross-community, cross-cultural relationship very well, felt it was best to give it time and not to rush into things. But his patience and perseverance finally won over Ghaza.

For the past 3 years, Ghaza has been trying to get her parents’, especially her iron-willed Mother’s approval for the relationship. Her mother has almost disowned her and Ghaza cannot even remember when was the last time her she had a heart-to-heart talk with her Mom. Her ailing father still nurtures hopes of his first-born returning to them and of being wedded to a nice obedient chap hailing from their community. But too much time has passed and too many things have been said and done.

Ghaza and Praveer have decided that, as waiting is not taking them anywhere, it is best for them to tie the knot.

Ghaza still has many unanswered questions about how life would be after the marriage.
The religious and cultural gap between the world that she was raised in and the world that she will be living in after wedding is too wide and it unsettles her. Knowing that she would never have her family’s support once she takes the final step, she is scared to ask herself if what she will do if she is unable to adjust herself to her new world. These and many other questions have risen of late but Ghaza knows that tying the knot is the only step ahead. Turning back was never and is still not an option.

Ghaza has told Priya that she hopes to get married to Praveer in the next couple of months. Priya can only hope that the love that has thrown Ghaza into this whirlpool shows her the way to navigate out of it successfully.

*************

……Change is in the air. The harshness has melted into a soothing warmth. The leaves have fallen and new ones are waiting to take their place. Times are no longer as we had known them to be. Lives are changing and so are the people.

……..Buds and flowers are beginning to adorn the skeletal trees. Long before you know it, these withered, bare branches will be crowded with flowers.

The lives of these 4 individuals will never be the same again. Many more springs will come and so will the winters. It is only the most blessed of us who find their true love and who have the courage and gumption to proceed with it. To the less fortunate, as somebody once said, “ First, all relationships are with yourself – and sometimes they involve other people. Second, the most important relationship in your life – the one you have, like it or not, until the day you die- is with yourself”.

Crystals on the Window

The growing rustle of the windswept leaves,
The soothening chill of the strengthening breeze,
The threatening weight of the nimbus sheets,
The expectant calm, the vanishing heat.

The roar, the rumble, the celestial drumroll
The spears of lightening that escape from the heavens

The patter coming down from the skies
The sweet fragrance that has begun to rise,
The dust that has begun to settle
The freshness that has begun to emerge.

The wetness of the raindrops on the cheek
The nip in the air that excites you, that covers you whole.

And then they appear
Before you know,
A thousand in a second
And then some more,

Quivering with every breath you take
Shining like translucent pearls,
Almost dancing to the rhythm of the rain,
They show you a thousand images,
Varied colours, in their tiny spheres.

They shine, they shimmer, in all their glory
For the moment is theirs
And they might be gone too soon
But it is always worth the wait,
In my solitary state
To look up and see
The shimmering, the ethereal,
The wondrous Crystals on the window.

"Love doesn't make the world go 'round; love is what makes the ride worthwhile." What can I say, Franklin P. Jones stole my words.

Disclaimer: The characters, thoughts and feelings expressed in this piece are definitely not fictional and any resemblane to any living person(s) is purely intentional. If the reader has never been madly in love with anyone before, it is strongly advised that he/she does not read anything further.

Was it love at first sight? Naah—certainly not that. But perhaps within the first month of meeting him, I knew; I was in love-perhaps my first true love.

I think he was a bit surprised when I first said “Hi” to him. It was the jaunty kind of “Hi”, definitely not one that you would expect when meeting someone for the first time. Given the fact that I have starting trouble, especially when it comes to breaking the ice, I was surprised at myself for the way the first words came out—so unhibited, like I had known him forever. And the first time I saw him—the face that stays with me every night before I drift into sleep, the face that I see the first thing in the morning, the face that is with me in all my living moments, a face that I want to have before my eyes for the rest of my life…

….That shy smile, those big, bright eyes, the almost-formed dimples, the broad brow and the a-little-too prominent nose. I have became a slave to this image -one that binds me and enslaves me by re-appearing not just in my dreams but also in my waking hours. My eyes seem to be seeking and finding him everywhere—beside me in the cab when I am returning home, when I see the colour red(his favourite), when I am eating a pastry(his favourite too)-there he is giving me the smile of his which makes me wish that time stops andl all the mundane activity of life freezes in time…so that he can take me out of the cab by my hand, splash a bit of the colour red on me and whisk away the cherry topping on the pastry…..

In the beginning, I wrote it off as a crush but it grew and as much as I tried to ignore it, the deeper and the more special it grew. Every gesture of his is so very endearing. His disorderliness, his goofiness, his child-like appreciation for things which excite him, his pretence of superiority whenever he is proved wrong in any matter, his wise-cracks….We are poles apart in may things—he cries seeing emotional stuff in the theatres. He runs away from classics in Eng. Literature, as much as I love them. He is a fan of the s(h)elf-improvement books and I couldn’t detest them any more than I do now. He does zany things and would make every effort to amlify the efforts he puts into them, just to annoy me—he will blow loudly through the straw into the juice-filled container so that it makes a ripping oaring sound. He will try to floss with any sharp object that he can lay his hands on. But these things just don’t seem to irritate me as much as they would if anyone else was doing them.

All this M&B prattle would make one wonder if this love thing was happening both ways. The answer is –I don’t know! I’ve been a coward everytime it came to making aware of his aware for me. It is not the fear of rejection. Rather, it is the uncertainty of how things might work out if at all we discover our feelings for each other. Where does it go from there? Am I ready for a relationship? Is he ready for someone like me in his life? I come with a lot of baggage and my life is certainly not what you would call ordinary. Would he be able to make the changes in his life that any person who wants to have any kind of intimate relationship with me would have to make? Thousands of answered questions like these logging my brain which make me want to chicken out from telling him how I feel about him every time I decide to come out in the open.

Perhaps, slowly, I ‘ve begun to realise that true love doesn’t require acceptance or acknowledgement of any kind- not from society or even own’s own ever-rationalising-mind. It never demands receiving anything at all. It’s not necssary for the peron whom you fall n love with, loves you back…

The magic of love is that it creates a heaven for you on earth, a feeling that makes you fall in love with the air around you and the wind blowing in your hair. Suddenly, everything from the tiniest of the flowers to the early morning sunray that beams in through your bedroom window, and all the zillions of particles in it, seem to be dancing away to the tune of your love. Suddenly, all those lyrics in romantic songs-one’s that you once brushed away calling them silly, mushy, seem to make sense.

The truth is that I love him and this is something that nobody can take away from me। I love him with all my heart and soul and will love him forever. This love will remain with me- perhaps for as long as I continue to breathe or until cupid strikes again- if at all there is an “again”.

I know, “forever” is long time। But I also know that Love Conquers All. Even Time.

Sports is not sporting any more

Do you remember the days when as a kid, you got together with the other kids from the neighborhood and spent hours playing games like hopscotch, lagori, cricket or kho-kho. If anyone cheated or called each other names (which we often did), it was soon forgotten and everyone including the defaulter would be back in the game, enjoying every moment of it with un-ending passion.

Cut to the present day where we are no longer children. Many of us still indulge in sports- some professionally and others as spectators – but all with the same, if not greater, un-ending passion. The one big difference is something that we exhibited in our childhood but seldom do so now- sportsmanship.

Sportsmanship in sports has never been in lesser display than in recent times. The latest racial abuse row that kicked off during the India-Australia Cricket series, is ample evidence of this fact, where a referral to the word “monkey” snow-balled to a racist issue.

What is it that we have lost over the years, that makes seasoned players like Zidane to head-butt a payer of the opposite team in a world-cup soccer game? Why is it that even extremely talented sportspersons like Marion Jones feel the need to succumb to doping? What has gone so grievously wrong in sports today that has prompted Anil Kumble to make the statement, “ ..only one team was playing in the spirit of the game…”?

Agreed that the scenario is not the same today as it was years ago. All major sports tournaments involve min-boggling amounts of money- one of the repercussions of which, is the mounting pressure on players to outperform their opponents, many a time, comprising the spirit of the game.

Sports has become such a cash-rich venture that the endorsements of sportspersons piggyback their performance. In such a scenario, it is but natural for any human being, leave alone our celebrity-status sportspersons, to get carried away by the competition. The trappings of all this wealth and fame have made us forget that the mark of a true sportsperson is the spirit with which he/she plays the game.

The heightened media-scrutiny is another major factor that has led to this paradigm. It not only relays an amplified version of the behaviour of the players (both on and of the field), but also defines their actions into slots like “mild” or “offensive”.

The media is also responsible for sending out wrong signals by publicizing and at times even “glorifying” the display of un-called for aggressiveness on the field. It is indeed a sorry state of affairs that virtues like patience and respect for fellow-players are no longer as saleable as “offensiveness” or “boorish” behaviour is.

Sledging and other such un-gentlemanly activities are no longer scoffed at but are becoming increasingly accepted as game-playing tactics. Competition has been driven to such dizzying heights that players no longer feel secure nor do they have any faith in their hard-honed talent but are taught to rely on strategies such as “intimidation” and mental degradation of their opponents to gain an edge over them. But has anyone ever thought of coaching or merely advising our sportspersons on how to play the game with sportsmanship?

It is the need of our generation, as well as those to come, to revive long forgotten virtues like showing respect for the opposition, cultivating love of competition (as against love of winning), the value of trying ones’ best and most importantly, how to lose and win graciously.

It is high time we thought about where, the increasing intolerance and un-provoked aggression on the playing field, is taking us to. For this, we only need to look back into history to the time of the ancient Greeks who began the first Olympics with a view to celebrate the cultures of the people of various lands. Their custom of crowning the victor with an olive branch is symbolic of their faith in sports as a hope for a peaceful and better future. The great Pierre Fredy, Baron de Coubertin, father of the modern Olympics, sought sports as the way to bring nations and the youth of the world together and thereby dissuade them from fighting each other in war.

Fred Perry, the legendary Tennis player, once said, “Tactics, fitness, stroke ability, acceptability, experience and sportsmanship are all necessary for winning”. This is what we need to stress upon today where we no longer see the spirit of chivalry and the glory of sport on the field.

To quote Grantland Rice, the American sports columnist and author,

“ For when the one great scorer comes
To write against your name,
He writes not that you won or lost,
But how you played the game”

A light of hope has been blown away

Date: 27th Dec., 2007

Today is undoubtedly, one of the saddest days in the history of the world. A day, when a bright beacon of hope called “Benazir Bhutto”, has been extinguished forever.

It is said that Benazir wrote about her entry into politics, in her autobiography as- “ I did not choose this. Rather, this chose me” . Today, after being regarded as a hope for a safer and saner future to millions of Pakistanis, hope for a more stable South-East Asia, and above all, hope for peace in today’s war-driven world, she lies bullet-ridden, sharing the fate of so many of the best thinkers, politicians and statesmen that the world has seen in the last 50 years.

The single-most attribute for which she will be remembered is definitely her courage. Raw courage that made her return to her country when many others, more experienced than her, shuddered to set foot in the living hell that Pakistan has become today.

There are not many men, leave alone women, who have the mental strength to make a heroic, historic speech, holding back tears, and vowing to root out terror and dictorship just 24 hrs after seeing ones’s closest aides being blasted to pieces, knowing well that the scattered limbs on the blood-soaked street could have easily been theirs. Benazir was one such exceptional lady.

A brave woman, who went through a lot of personal and public tragedy but who never failed to channelize the pain and loss into a force to reckon with, when it comes to the anti-terror war or the pro-democracy rebellion in Pakistan.

A role model for not just the millions of relegated Muslim women across the world, but also a leading light for each and every conscientious citizen of the world to fight against what one believes to be wrong.

A braveheart who came out of exile because her love for her homeland and concern for its future, far outweighed her fear of assassins. Benazir was the rightful heir of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto and a commendable bearer of the Bhutto legacy. Indeed, an era has gone with the death of the Daughter of the East.

I feel like Forrest Gump sometimes…….

…when I stop at a traffic-signal sometimes and I see those malnourished girls aged 3-12, begging, being shooed by every motorist. And badly wanting to improve their plight, but all I do is thrust in their hands, the toffee that I find in my pocket.

… when I go to the meeting after lunch, having relished chicken kababs, a nice, juicy sliver of which, is stuck between my buck teeth and I wonder why everyone’s got a ‘I’m –gonna-get sick-any-moment’ look on their face once I start talking.

… when I saw my one-time best friend get in the front of the mike at the elocution competition, holding my speech in hand, when in fact I was the one chosen by a forum of teachers and students to represent my class.

… when people just refuse to see the wise, matured-beyond-the-years me that is held captive in a body of a teenager.

… when I’m lying sick in the hospital, not knowing whether I will survive the next 48 hrs and I hear that a healthy, young person ended her life because she was wasn’t well-prepared for her 12th Std. exams.

… when I look at someone who’s made it to the IAS and wonder if I threw away my true calling by chucking my IAS dream at 21—a dream that I had nourished since the age of 7.

… when I look back at my school-days, when so many girls treated me as more than a confidante and wonder why I never considered them as best friend material, and why on earth I had that blinkered attitude when it came to friendships.

…. When I look at my school and college mates now, all happy, some settled in their dream jobs, some married and some even with twin babies, if I ever have it in my destiny to enjoy the same.

Yes, there will be many more times when I will feel just like Gump. I hope that the little good that I have ever done in my life, knowingly or unknowingly, will pay off in the end, just as it did for Gump-myHero.