WHAT COULD BE MY FEBRUARY STORY?

It takes time to crossover from one written piece to the other. Yes, it does take ample amount of time for the crossover to take place successfully. After having posted my last blog update on December 31, 2018, I couldn’t match pace with my restlessly thinking mind, vigorously browsing vision and self-imposed relaxing therapies. Thus, I am yet to figure out, ‘what could be my February story?’

My February story could be my second book. When I talk about my second book, eyebrows go up like mini parachutes, lips are left partly ajar. Surprises are always going to be welcome, when my first book was a self-published attempt, which eventually didn’t get caught in ugly thunderstorms of irrelevance or failure. The book made its silent debut and still sits on the desks, in the shelves, over wardrobes of innumerable friends and well-wishers. Poems and quotes from my first book still find mentions on some pages of social media. Coming back to my February story, it could be my second book for sure. The so called second book has an interesting character with an uncharacteristic name. This uncharacteristic name will remind everyone of something about themselves. I would have loved so much to reveal a little more about my second book and the characters in it; being selfish, I won’t!

Since winters have made a comeback, my February story could be the winters by themselves. But then, won’t that be a repeat of something I wrote and posted on this blog with the title of ‘holding on to winters’, dated December 18? Anyway the verb ‘repeat’ enjoys a healthy association in the bar, which serves top and low quality alcohol to insanely thirsty throats and egos. Thus, my February story needs to be different.

What if February being the month of love, my February story talks about love? Does that sound like a good idea, when 100s of websites are ready to bombard us with free bytes on love? No matter, how strange, it may sound; Valentine’s Day just missed the mark of being my February story.

Did I tell you that I watched URI-The Surgical Strike? I could easily have written about it. If I ever make a movie or shoot a documentary, which I would, someday (definitely a documentary), I would want to write it that way! Since I am a fan of bound scripts, I won’t make the film/documentary till I have a proper script in place. At this stage, the overall thought of wanting to shoot a documentary could be my February story. My only concern is, when I am talking about the February story, does a desire sound like a story? Does it really sound like a story? I think, this part is in need of some introspection. Yet, it lacks the gravity of becoming my February story.

And then, the other day I was traveling by train. Just one of those journeys when I wasn’t in a mood to pick up a fight with a fellow traveler. Little did I realize, first class compartments are filled with good, bad and ugly egos! Yes, these egos can grow immensely loud and can act like bloodhounds. Trust me, they can. From a single moment of me refusing to put a passenger’s bag on the rack, the situation catapulted itself to a warlike situation. To conclude, it was a bag it or die without it situation. Sounds interesting? Thus, it will always find a place in one of the other books of mine (soon to begin work upon). Therefore I chose to strike it out from the list of many things, which I think could have been my February story.

As I get ready to conclude this update and am left to decide upon my February story, I am trying to probe, why did I leave January alone? Well, January begins with a big bang of resolutions. And I think that is what my heart is still transfixed with. To keep it simple, I think I have stumbled upon my February story. Will I be writing it? If I could think about it, I can definitely write it too!

To end on a happy note, I think, I was busy seeking and searching for my February story. I found it.

- Virtuous Vociferous | February 11 | February Blog-1 | Never Settle | 2019

THE RAINY PREFACE

The first thought

10.45 PM – It is raining

10.45 AM – It was raining

I am seated in the farthest suburb of Mumbai, which according to residents of SoBo (South Bombay) can’t even stand eligible to be addressed as NoBo (North Bombay). I am seated in my very own corner, writing this piece; also thinking, how nothing has changed in a course of 12 hours. Not the people, not the conversations, not the conspiracies; nothing at all has changed. Neither do I expect them to change because it is me, who has to become the change.

Skipping work came naturally. I am happy I skipped making fool of myself as well. As the rains kept lashing, journalists of innumerable news channels turned into weather experts and kept reporting bullshit. But am I supposed to complain? Nah! Instead I kept staring at the rains, from the comfort of my dream home. Every drop of rain left me with these lines, which I call the rainy preface (also the title of this blog) –

TODAY IT RAINED

TODAY IT POURED

I STOOD DRENCHED

FOR A MOMENT, I FELT

ARE THESE RAINS CAPABLE ENOUGH

OF MELTING A MORTAL BEING LIKE ME?

ME… THE @#@*@#@*@#

The special characters form the name of my second book. For days, I’ve wanted to start working on my second book. I invested an entire year, thinking of it. I invested an entire year, trying to adjust to it. Interestingly, I invested two years extending my seva, my meva to a place, which in return has given me new lessons to learn from for a good life (this line is dedicated to the advisors, who will continue holding me wrong for all reasons and once again ask me to not get frustrated, stay diplomatic, decent).

The Final Thought

11.00 PM – It is raining

11.00 AM – It was raining

Away from the trappings of emotions, WhatsApp messages, birthday wishes, Facebook likes & dislikes; I lived through a peaceful day. This day was exactly the kind of day I wish to have a constant affair with. I drove in my car, walked below my umbrella and continued conversing with some intelligent minds. Some questions did come my way. I chose not to answer them. I am sure, some will come advising me again of being obsessed and being wrong. Having decided to follow what the heart prompts, I continued being myself and kept chanting a mantra for my well-wishers – My Foot, My Foot, Foot, Foot, Foot. They disappeared!

Concluding on a happy note by saying… Writing begins and continues every single day!

- Virtuous Vociferous | July 9 | July Blog-3 | Making of the beast | 2018