Tuesday, May 31, 2011

In life and in DEATH



My Dear Beloved Dead,

So far this has been the most seductive affair. I’ve never found someone so committed, dedicated and addicted to me. Moreover, I believe it has lasted so long because you had started so early with me! It is said, the first time is a moment etched deep in our memory cells. This is a very special moment which can never be erased, forgotten and disagreed upon.

I am really thankful to your friend, who coaxed you hard in making me your own. I still remember it was his fifteenth birthday, a good three months later than you. He started by teasing you that you are not man enough. You were clueless, whether this is really a man thing. Torn apart between ideals instilled in you by your parents and ideals you were getting introduced to in the company of your so called progressive friends. Your mind was at war with your soul.

It was not just your friend alone but also the others present at the party who insisted you need to experiment once. You were immensely shy and reluctant about how to and where to start from, you demanded to be left in solitude. You were therefore pushed into a room, the door locked and in complete darkness you were both excited and exasperated to lose what you had held so precious.

You drew me closer. From top to bottom, your eyes preyed on me. The movement of your tongue was something; I could still not get off my mind. I’ve been a muse to many. But you were the best of all. You held me against you like one of those Hollywood stars who don’t waste a moment to turn romantic at the sight of a revealing fairer sex. I realised the indulgence had begun. Finally I was touched by the warmth of your red as cherry lips. You were no more untouched. Your friends had finally succeeded in making you do the man thing. You put your machismo in full display. Driven by the attitude of having achieved something that was so far forbidden, you threw open the door. You stepped out in style, looked at your friends and brushed your lips against me. I still can’t tell you the sensation that ran through within me. You had made me yours. Whatever happened inside was far more interesting than what you were planning to do outside. Everyone in the party could smell the experience; you have had in that locked room and in solitude, only with me around.

I was enjoying this inseparability. I appreciate the time, you gave me and to be with me. I still remember when your parents had gone out for a wedding somewhere out of the town. They had informed you of their two day stay there. You dialled up your friends and called them over for a night of passion, patriarchy and pleasure. Slowly in the middle of night, you threw open the window and pulled me so close that for a moment, I thought you will gulp me off. Caressed by the blowing breeze and pampered by the cool moonlight, you romanced me incessantly. Not once but you chose to have a good time at least thrice in one night. Your friends were red with envy. It was they, who had introduced me to you and now I had become an integral part of everything you did.

You put me first every time you had to make a decision. Your life had changed. The romance was in full bloom. Your academic performance kept deteriorating and you were completely smitten by me. You had no issues having anyone else in life because you were proud of my presence in your life. For every date that you made so special for me, you even mustered the courage to steal money from your dad’s lockers. But I grew your biggest fan and my love for you grew, when you blatantly lied to your mother while helping me sneak into your bathroom. You had always cherished the memory of having me in your bathroom. Finally that day, you did the unthinkable in the presence of your parents. You were unstoppable. The door was closed. I knew nothing could deter you from staying mine. I did hear the bang on the door. It was your dad. But you were lost in me. You didn’t really care about who was on the door or what the purpose of that bang was.

In your final year of college, the academic reports were not at all impressive. The principal called up your parents to tell them how miserably you had failed in three subjects. It was your principal, whom I still consider my biggest enemy. He never spoke about my presence in your life, while you were in his chamber. That bald headed gentle thwarter only spoke about you and me, when you stepped out of his chamber. I knew something was just not right. Whatever we had between us, seemed to end soon.

On our way back home, when you helped me hide quite intelligently in the car; I heard your father say something like, “I am ashamed of you being my son, my only child, my only pride. I gave you everything that you demanded or desired. And in return, you gave us disgrace. How could you do something so bloody frustrating? Not only have you performed below expectancy but you have ruined your future. You have to bid goodbye or you will have to face dire consequences.” More disheartening was your mother’s comment who said, “You are not the son I had given birth to.”

I was so shaken by these comments; I committed the mistake of making an opinion against you. My views started changing about you. At a time when I should have supported you by being cooperative; I started hatching a revenge plan. Those beautiful moments of togetherness in the past had started pricking me hard. I decided to make a rebel out of you. I am extremely proud of that moment, when some relatives had come to your place. Your father informed you that he is trying to find you a suitable match. From your bedroom, I could see how beautiful this prospective bride of yours was. Your eyes ignited. I started sulking. But I knew you so well by now that I was sure you will do something, which will jeopardise the situation. After shamelessly smiling at your so called fiancée, you rushed back to your bedroom and brought me out. Your father was stunned by my presence. Your mother closed her eyes. And the so called relatives were miffed to see you with me. I loved to break the girl’s heart with stars in her eyes. I was not ready to part you with her. And neither were you able to arrive at terms to sacrifice me for someone else. But that girl had something in her. You started seeing her quite often and left me sulking and craving for you. My feelings of avenging your ignorance of me started getting intense. One night, you arrived late. You were feeling proud that you had joined your father’s business and had a lovely girl by your side to be your wife. You looked at me and maybe for once you might have revived every moment you spent with me.

I am thankful to you that you didn’t abandon me completely. Every alternate night, you were the usual passionate self and performed the best with me. I was enjoying this ambiguity. You were still dedicated to me.

Finally my day of triumph arrived. Without letting me know, how sharply you got your engagement planned and organised. I was amused to see the same group of friends who had made us come together, now congratulating you on your so called animosity against me. Little did they know that I was going to play a major role in your downfall. Rings were exchanged, cake was cut, pleasantries exchanged and near & dear one’s hugged. I couldn’t have imagined a better moment to strike hard than this one. After dinner you bid adieu to your fiancée and her family. How romantic it was to see you murmur in her ears and promise her of making a call in the midnight. After they were gone, you turned to your friends and decided that you will take advantage of me for one last time. This time, it was not going to be in solitude but in public and in their presence. I waited patiently with deep breath. This was the last time; I was going to be with you. This was the last time; I will see you smile. The future that you were envisioning was going to transform into something so dark, it would only make me proud. You took me out of your bedroom and like a beast; bit my back by your sharp teeth. You seemed to be in no mood to have mercy on me. Rather than being gentle, you were harsh, heartless and horrible in pulling me close to you. Once again your lips touched me and before you could feel me pleasantly, I retaliated.

I triumphed by getting to see you fall breathlessly. You were feeling choked. I could hear the eerie noise of a cough that ejected out of your mouth. I was watching with pride the way you were trembling. Your eyeballs rolled and you cried for help. You kept screaming about a severe pain in your throat. You were gasping for breath. You were clueless and so were your friends. You couldn’t speak. You kept coughing. Your phone rang. It was your bloody fiancée. One of your friends answered the call and informed her that you have to be immediately rushed to a hospital. You were in pain. A pain that gave me joy! I wanted to see you die. I silently said to you, “How does it feel you idiot to shatter my dreams of a life of togetherness with you?” You didn’t even have the time to give me an angry stare. At the reception itself, I think the doctor must have made out what the problem was. As you were taken inside, I looked at you; how helplessly you were staring at me. Because this time, I was not with you but with a close friend of yours.

After a turbulent night, the doctor allowed your parents to enter your room. Luckily it was your friend, with whom I managed an entry into your hospital room. In one night, you had turned into my most helpless victim. When you saw me with your friend, you wanted to scream against what I had done to you. But did you even have the voice to do so? It was not me, who wanted to be in your life, but it was you who made me come to your life. I was kicked to see you lose your voice. You will no more be able to talk to that beautiful girl. And after what you have done to me, I will see to it that I keep you alive no more. I was thrilled to hear your doctor say, “He has developed throat cancer and his hope of staying alive is extremely next to impossible.”

Oh yes! Before I depart, let me tell you, “You are not my first victim. Millions of people around the world are my victims. And they will continue to be so, till the time they take a stand against me. But don’t worry; I’ve a strong lobby that will never let me die. So happy dying you bloody smoker!”

With lots of love and sweet betrayal,
Yours forever in life and definitely in death,
Cigarette

On account of NO TOBACCO DAY, I dedicate this blog post to the many victims who fall prey to the ill-habit of smoking cigarettes. Nothing to gain from this habit, cancer is something that is the only definitive cure in helping them get rid of this habit.

-vociferous
(Inspired by a an experimental piece of writing, which I had co-written with my creative buddy)

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

(S)tumbling back ;)

My last post on my own blog was on January 10, 2011 at 2.10 am in the morning with a title very close to my heart - LOVE (Part 2: A feeling that leaves you incomplete). Today it is May 25, 2011 and it is sharp 1.10 am that I’ve started writing my new post. Four months is long time enough, to make the followers of my blog; believe or rather grow convinced about a ‘not-so-burning’ reality that I might be lethargic or disinterested in reactivating my most passionate habit/hobby of blogging.

The wait has not been easier. I was on pursuit of the right kind of inspiration. I just did not want to start writing all over again without a specific purpose or subject in consideration. In between the two posts, a lot has happened!

I traveled twice to my home town. I met with an accident that rendered me immobile for one whole month. I visited two most beautiful coastal towns of India. I watched movies – some insensible and some definitely sensible. I drove long miles on my bike. I reconnected with friends. I disconnected with my unknown self. I revived my passion of writing my favorite diary every night (no matter, how tired I am). Discontinuation of long hand writing has made me realize that I take a little more time to write with an ink pen in my hand. I made new friends. I danced all night with someone I met for the first time. I sung. I jumped. I drank. I swam. I dreamt. I read. I did everything that was good enough to act as a trigger to make me write again for my personal blog.

I would still say this momentary interval is far more less than the one I had taken between March 2008 and October 2008. Till date, I am unaware what had gone wrong with me? Thanks to my mom and my friends and definitely followers of my blog, who shook me up and made me reboot my mind. There I was writing again. But this recent gap of four months was a bit self imposed one and also a bit helpless one. A lot was happening around me. I also developed a new kind of addiction for facebook. Ever since I’ve subscribed to sms updates for uploading my status on facebook, it has been a joyride of sorts for me. One of my Delhi based friend rightly commented on my facebook wall – “one of the most avid facebookers that i've known”! I too realized how much I had grown an addict of the social networking phenomenon. Not only did this comment set the pace for my thinking process but it also made me wake up to the fact that its been long I had given up blogging or rather sacrificed blogging for facebooking.

I had also stopped visiting twitter. Some of my friends once again inquired – Where are the tweety days? To which, I had no reply. Thereafter began my pursuit for inspiration. The biggest bank of inspiration has been the Indian Railways. Traveling by the train has been my most enjoyable experience ever since my childhood days. But those were the dreamy days of traveling well-protected with my mother or father. Having attended adulthood and to earn my livelihood when I started traveling alone, my perceptions shattered. The travelers no more seemed friendly. It was painful to revive good old memories of being called by an uncle to be on the window. Now the window seat or a vacant space near the window had suddenly become a reason of everyday wars/battles/conflicts. A reason to board the train while in motion. A reason to badmouth a newcomer. A reason to wake up early and rush… It is almost thirteen years of continuous travel and evolving experiences. The latest threat I issued to an irritating passenger was - "Itna berehami se todunga tujhe ke tere purzo ka judna bhee mushkil ho jayega...” In the past 13 years, I have also turned into a keen observer of my fellow passengers. That keenness came handy recently when I needed inspiration to start rewriting posts for my blog. I have fifteen odd stories that are real and evolved during train journeys. The characters are real and extremely interesting to be known. I did overhear some conversations a bit to add realism to my writing. I am simply dying to present the bouquet of (now) 15 stories. So far the count is restricted to 15. Maybe the number might increase but not decrease.

Coming back to blogging seems like homecoming from a distant destination after a long time. I also am looking forward to reactivate my sleeper blogs on travel, story telling and creativity. They have been lying unattended to such an extent that at times even I forget to have created them for personal creative satisfaction.

Reading too has helped to a major extent. Daily editions of Hindustan Times, monthly subscription copies of OPEN Magazine, Sunday MidDay and E-Books have enriched my mind, my soul and my vision to restart blogging. And also a big thank you to the Internet for being my bed partner. I was missing blogging so much that I even wrote a status - Don't ask me who I am... Maybe I've become someone else. Someone who seems to be a complete stranger, even to me! Comments to which were simply interesting!

I know even though my desire is to end up writing at least one post for my blog every day. It is close to being impossible. Other than blogging, I’ve to travel to office every day to again get my mind indulged in the art of thinking, writing and creating.

The tentative topics that I shall be soon readying for release online are as follows:

TRAINSPOTTING – 15 (or more) human stories of train travelers

TO MY MOTHER… Not on Mother’s Day! But every day.

A TALE OF TWO SISTERS – A professor and an ad executive

THE DRAWER OF SUBDUED MEMORIES – Personal something’s

AN OLD HABITAT REVISITED – Neighbors who always cared for

TWO LIVES – Kool Kappy & Avatar

Finally…
Sitting by the banks of River Ganges in Kolkata
Walking alone on the Marine Drive in Mumbai
Visiting the Jehangir Art Gallery with a very special friend
Driving through the Bandra-Worli sea link
Silence of a creative buddy

Has paid off well. I am back to the bloody old good habit of BLOGGING.

See you soon...

- vociferous