Imagine if..!

After 10 years of mastering the art of being a student, I was finally going to play the role of a responsible professional. This change brought along with it a move. New York to Chicago. New York had nurtured me into an individual filled with strength, confidence, character, maturity and yet let me keep the child within alive. It was Chicago that was to test the quality of the individual that New York had produced. 

The first step in a move is to find a roof over your head. Internet being the best self help available, I looked up the various sites for suggestions on a good roof . I realized quickly that there were many facets to that- a good roof over a good spacious room, a kitchen that was if not anything else, minimally furnished, an in built A/C/ heater ( Chicago being famous for it's winters);if multistory- an elevator in the building; a laundromat preferably within the building, if not, nearby; good security; decent neighborhood; a supermarket or grocery shop within walking distance; close by to the train station that had the trains I needed to get to work running through it and off course the afford ability! When I finally found the one that seemed to have it all and be at a reasonable distance from my work place, it was still the picture on the internet I was seeing, sitting by the window in my NY apartment that I had to vacate in a month's time. So, Chicago-NY one day round trip was searched, a decent deal found and ticket booked. Picked up a bag with some extra clothes and essentials (just in case), some instant edibles, an umbrella, travel documents and papers I might need, if I decide to rent the place I was going to check out. 

I took the early morning flight and landed safely into a bright morning in Chicago. I figured out the directions I needed to get to&fro between the place and airport, the latest I could leave from the place to still fly back in time and the route to &fro my workplace and the apartment.

As I reached the place and checked in at the rental office, the receptionist asked me coldly to come back in an hour for my 'tour'. I looked at my watch and refuted that I had an appointment and I was on time. She checked back at her monitor, gave me an exasperated look and said "your appointment is for 11am, it is 10 am now". I looked back at my watch and it read 11am. It then struck me that I had just entered into a different time zone. Living all my life in countries whose length and breadth were in one time zone, that adjustment of thought takes a while.I decided to utilize the time and check out the neighborhood. Not taking a chance by walking too far and getting lost, I looked around, but could register nothing. I just marveled at the buildings around me, not one of them looked similar and they all had stunning architecture.The other thought was that the streets were empty at 10 am on a weekday, which in NY is peak hour and for a city with Chicago's reputation should also be peak hour. But, the streets here did not have the rush hour that I have experienced before. It gave me 2 ideas- one that the city was not as vibrant as NY ( of course no city could be!) second- the neighborhood is not in a busy downtown area, which questions it's safety late evenings, the most likely time of my return from work.

I finally got back to the building, took my tour, liked what I saw, consulted with a trusted friend and ended up confused. Took a minute, rationalized my thought, randomly asked how safe it was at 9pm, got a satisfied answer, trusted the answer coz it was coming from another woman, put in a demand to move in at a certain date and no later and signed the necessary papers. I took a chance by not checking out any of the other buildings nearby and signing into the first one I set foot in. But, life is about taking calculated chances and facing the consequence of it all.

I did complete everything on my agenda that day and still had sometime to spare. After signing the papers, took my trip to the office and decided the travel was as feasible as feasible can get!Considering the options I had, I preferred to hang out at my center point and soak in the surroundings instead of getting to the airport and breathing artificial air. Soon, it was getting dark and cloudy and I decided that it must be closer to evening and my time to head back to the airport. As I made a turn to get to the train station that would take me to the airport, a gust of wind held me stationary. No matter how much force I moved with, I did not move an inch. Before I could realize, I was drenched wet- the same way as seen in most bollywood movies, you have the shower turned on at the director's signal and there is instant heavy downpour. With all my might, I ran as quickly as I could to the nearest building and stood against the glass watching anything that was not rooted to the ground flying and wet.The little trees that if, were to be compared to a stage of human growth, would best suit teenage, were bent in half and yet did not snap. It was as if they had taken yoga lessons.

As, I stood, engrossed in thought and wondering how to get to the airport, a stranger standing next to me, chatted me up. He made light conversation on the unpredictable weather, the apartment complex I was planning to stay in, what the best part of the neighborhood is, Chicago as a city etc. In fact,I gathered a lot of information, something only an insider of the city can tell you.He then asked me where I was headed to and offered to drop me. I hesitated and declined the offer. He was a stranger after all! I decided to wait for the storm to end, the skies to finish their outburst and then head home. He left with a 'bye' and a 'good luck' while I continued staring at the outside. A half hour later, a red 2 seater Lexus car pulls up in front of the building, the driver honks until I turn recognizing him to be the same stranger. He waves out for me to come out and offers to drop me. I looked around nervous, picked up my bag, said a silent prayer and ran into the car. He smiled, asked me not to worry and said he would get me to the airport in time. I looked at my phone, sent a text to my friend upraising her of my situation and instantly heard her frantic voice instructing me to note down the licence plate number, take a picture of the guy through my phone and send it back to her, in case I went missing.

All through the drive, I sat still, with every sense of mine at the height of awareness. He was still chatting up and all I could hear was my heart thumping loudly. My hands were on the call button of my phone with 911 pre-dialled. After an hour of wondering how my parents would react when they were told I had gone missing or worse, who would actually be able to contact them as I don't remember giving my friend their contact information, realizing that she could obtain that from the college records, I reached the airport.My worst fears had not come true. I was safe and sound. As the thumping of my heart came down to normal little beats, another bye and good luck and off he drove. I checked myself in and while I waited to board, tried to soak in, the events of the past 2 hours. Do I feel relieved that I was safe despite the risk I took, calm my nerves that were overworked or just marvel at the timing of the bad weather, my good luck with safety and my first ever ride in a 2 seater Lexus?! What an unbelievable day this had turned out to be. Adventure at it's best!!

We boarded, announcements made, seat belt fastened- nothing moved. There was a further announcement explaining air traffic situation and that we were waiting in line to take off. As we taxied towards the run way, I could see more flights in close vicinity which gave me the idea that the line was a long one. After 4 hours of taxiing and 25 flights taking off before us, we braced ourselves to head home. Suddenly the skies lit up- incessant lightening and thunder, but no rain. The pilots waited for clearance and there was silence. My instincts told me that we probably will taxi back to the gate and deplane. That tonight, O'Hare would just have to be home.My instincts are never wrong about anything happening against my wishes! 

So, night at O'Hare it was. I spent those 6 hours crouched and folded in the most painfully awkward position possible, between 2 chairs, jacket to cover me, dozing on and off. Woke up early morning, stood in line in front of the airline counter,coffee in hand and fought for a seat in the first flight out to NY. Considering that most of my life, my Mom would wonder,what she could intravenously inject into me, so I would not run away from a situation that demanded me to fight for my right-  I did a great job, pushing, nagging and arguing till I found myself sandwiched between two obese men in the last row of the flight, right next to the washroom! 

As, I drove from La Guardia back home and saw the sky line of NY, I realized that I had lived a day of adventure- the kind you conjure up in one of those weird conversations one has with friends, lazily sipping on tea, under a plastic table with an umbrella for shade, taking a break between two classes, starting with the words - "Imagine if.."

Where does the day off go?

It hasn't been very long since I turned into a working professional.The one seen every morning on the streets, wearing mostly attires consisting of something in black, a potable coffee mug in hand, white Apple ear phones on the sides,with the face suggesting that whatever they are listening to is unimportant, briskly walking as if the entire system of the world is running smooth coz of him/her, an air of responsibility and a vain attempt at hiding their frustration of getting to work every morning. There was a time when I believed that my student days would never be over and the professional world will never have me as I would die getting chiseled and refined to become that diamond that all the schools I attended were trying to make of me. But here I am! 

A five day-a-week job, with most days that end with my blood pressure raised and heart banging against my chest cavity is what I signed up for. I belong to one of the most feared profession, one that people associate with pain and would rather avoid having to ever come in need of! That makes me sound like I belong to the mafia, but Dentist is all I am! 

Most of my working days, I eat,sleep and breathe my office space,In fact, I dream of my office as well for the few hours that I do get to be home! So, days off are a welcome respite. My 5 days are spread out as 2 days, a holiday and then 3 days. When I do get a few minutes in between patients at work, I always have a task to add to my to-do list. This list then goes up on my bed side or my refrigerator and remain there for the longest time as a constant reminder of my excellent quality of procrastination. Each week my lists either get longer or more in number, but not one task on any of them every gets canceled out! SO, what then do I do on my days off, that keeps me so busy that my world does not move.

I did some self-observation and realized , I have a pattern. As my 'weekend'(s) comes up, the night before, a movie happens, then sleep late happens, then get up late happens which results in half my holiday being spent on a  beach cafe with Ranbir Kapoor or  more recently Ranveer Singh! When reality does strike and the eyes open to the sight of a clear sky with commercial flights flying like little darts, getting to the vertical stance from the incredibly relaxing horizontal stance is a task. A cup of coffee, served hot, bedside, would be perfect, but one of the disadvantages of flying out of home nest is not having this wish fulfilled. It's the time of the day when Mom is missed the most! Then comes catching up with the happenings of the world through my 14" laptop monitor that invariably leads to me 'googling' for lateral knowledge on everything that caught my interest on the news- US and Indian version! This on a Sunday is usually followed by a limitless phone call to Mom and on a weekday by my stomach speaking it's hunger language till the constant nagging can not be ignored.In either case, it's time to fix lunch. I decide that the one day I get to eat lunch at home, it cannot be yesterday's left over. SO, the whole cooking drama ensues. I further decide that while at it, might as well make dinner. Now, for those born with great culinary skills, you cannot imagine the effort that goes into people with less than ordinary culinary skills to make a decent meal! Over the course of years, I have come to a point where I can make good tasty dishes, as long as I don't tell you what I had planned to make in the first place! Once that is done, the kitchen is in a mess. One of Mom's million lectures automatically starts playing in my head, the one she has made me listen to since the age of 6, the contents of which summarize to how unladylike it is to leave behind a dirty kitchen. Hence the head and hands without much of my involvement turn into dishwasher, scrubber and vacuum cleaner.With so much multi-tasking, tiredness sets in and I decide that since it is a day off, a day of rest, rest is what I shall get. So, I get back to the beach cafe with Ranveer Singh. 

The next thing I know, I wake up to darkness. The digital clock blinks a 6.30pm and I realize I have 4 hours before I absolutely have to hit my beach cafe, so I can wake up on time the next morning and avoid an Olympic level sprint to the train station. A shower is what i decide to get to freshen myself up so I can actually get some of the tasks to disappear on the list. As I sit and stare at the list and try to figure out which one to go for, I realize that every one of them has a preparatory task, which takes away the momentary will of doing the actual task. As, I invest my energy into talking to myself and finding a diplomatic solution between both parties of my mind, the phone buzzes, a friend I haven't spoken to in a long time, so off course I get engrossed in the happening of her world and give her a sneak peek into mine. The familiar language and tone of the stomach keeps increasing in the background noise,until I have to abruptly end my conversation. Dinner is heated and the stomach smiles. The smile, as if to taunt every other cell in my body, reminds all of them how I've used and abused them the whole week and they all collectively protest, threatening to go on strike if I do not heed to their request. That takes me instantly back to my beach cafe!

So, you see, my day off goes on its day off thanks to my sheer laziness disguised as being tired, my procrastination disguised in multiple inexcusable excuses and my disgusting inability to prioritize tasks!

In the hope that change might walk in on my day off and kick my butt, I shall get cozy under my comforter and head back to the beach cafe!

A Decade

It's been a decade. A decade of changing from a girl to a woman, a student to a professional, dependent to independent - simply put - of growing up,of lessons learnt, of struggle to make something of me, of successes, of failures, of special moments, of inspiration, desperation, of creating, destroying, of smiles and laughter, of tears and frustration ....a decade of living life to it's fullest!

It started as a young teenager who walked into a world riddled with mystery, armed with innocence. It was her biggest weapon, as it brought freshness and innovation to solving the puzzles that unfolded. Everyday was a surprise. Everyday revealed a new corner with new characters, new emotions, new struggle that required new skills or constant improvisation of existing ones. Each of those days was about surviving,until one day, it dawned that in the midst of this struggle, this transformation, a new person was emerging - one that suddenly had different ideas of LIFE.

I realised soon, that it was a journey I had to take by myself. The falls were mine but so was the progress I made, so were the miracles I unraveled. It was my journey, I was in the driver's seat. This little piece of information did not dawn in my head until very recently. I was chained in my own handcuffs. It was as if I drove but the navigation was someone else's. So, it felt as if the destination was someone else's too. But, milestone after milestone, I recognized that the destination is the same. The motivation to reach the destination is also the same.

There have been so many special moments, so many special achievements. Not many of these fall into the usual category that encompass a summary of who you are and what you made of yourself. In fact most of these are personal accomplishments, of surprising myself, surpassing my own expectations, of being better than who I envisaged myself to be.Where I stand today in the road map of life is a very good place to be. When I think about it, it just makes me feel lucky. Although there have been a million times, when I would have gladly traded lives with a stranger that had a happy glint in his eyes, today, I wouldn't trade for anything.

My life isn't perfect at all and to think that at some point it might be, is foolishness. But in this imperfection, lies the very essence of life- the feeling of being alive. The hope for a dream to come true, a dream that arises from sheer greed of wanting more of those flashes of life, when the world comes to a stand still and all you hear is your heart beat, all you feel is the wind against your face,your mind ceases to think and lets life rush into your blood. It is that flash of life that fuels you through the dark times.The times when you have let yourself down, when you have whipped yourself the hardest.

I have shut doors on the face of opportunity.I have chosen to be blind to inspiration when it came unsought. I have lost important people who until the point of loss, I did not recognize, brought pragmatism to my sojourn. I have refused to accept change when change was the only course of rescue. I have made poor choices. But in the end, despite the bitterness, LIFE,  still seems sweet. Pain has that quality about it- it opens your eyes to the comfort of not feeling pain and the sheer joy of feeling positive.

The decade that went by, opportunities that went by, people that went by, places that went by, moments that went by- thank you! Because of your brief presence, there are more colors on my canvas.

To the coming decade, coming opportunities, coming inspiration, coming moments- may I recognize you in time and make the most of you!

Here is to more colors on my canvas!

To Life...

Some dreams are simple every day wishes and yet so rare. A desire to breathe cool, fresh air, sit under bright blue skies, soak in the warmth of the sun, gentle breeze blowing, a display of nature at it's best, blending into subtleties of human existence, eyes closed, mind at rest. A sense of calm, peace, of a spotless mind that can absorb the surroundings and appreciate every element of it. A simple wish of feeling light enough to float in air.

This wish of mine was fulfilled by accomplishment. An achievement of making something out of myself. Of coloring my canvas with my favorite scheme of colors and loving the image that the random splashes and strokes finally created. A feeling of content. This feeling opened up the pair of invisible eyes that nest within the mind. The pair that truly lets you unfold life in it's vigor and savor it. Content came to me with accomplishment. But, the enigma of content is such, that for each one, it accompanies a different element. 

It's funny how infinitesimal changes in the story of your life determine your ability to fulfill your own wishes and empower you to breathe life into your very own dreams. 

New York

New York. A city of dreams. Dreams that come alive, that flourish. Never had I come to imagine my life being entwined with the life of this city. Three years. Smiles galore, showers of joy, moments of peace, success, satisfaction- color scheme of life- happy.

Hot espresso on a cold morning,walking on the streets like there is no tomorrow, sun shining bright, chilly winds making it difficult to keep the head up. Streets filled with people in shades of black, grey or the like. Enter into a frenzy of people callously falling into two groups, one that get off the subway and one that get on. Not one of them looking up at another, each one running, finding their way through the crowd. For 3 years I fell into either of these groups. And then a month ago, realization dawned. The city where I learnt to live life, had let me progress so much that it was time to move and leave it behind. I progressed into a third group. The group where man took time off a hectic day to marvel at an integral part of life. I believe my experience of college life would not be what it has been if not for this city.

The streets explored, small shops with exquisite pieces adorning the parapets,the tall buildings some relics of a culturally rich past and some signs of a chic present, numerous parks- small and big, bang in the middle of a busy business area, the many restaurants with the entire world's cuisines, the aristocratic professionals, the punk with piercings all over, the fashion conscious 'brands-only' woman walking past another that has all the colors of a rainbow on her, a young mother pulling away her curious son to avoid a homeless guy at the entrance to a subway, a tired tax payer walking out of a bar after dousing his weariness at the end a hectic day, while a 20 something couple walk in to celebrate a special day - New York. A city where two extremes of a spectrum exist in comfort, equality and freedom. A city I fell in love with.

When life brought me here the first time, it was a cloudy,wet,cold evening. The bus from Boston brought me from the north end of the city and all I saw were brick red buildings, walls tainted with signatures of people who got to seemingly unreachable portions of it, blaring sound of heavy traffic, bright lights, unconcerned people, huge buildings and public spaces, "May I help you?" counter with curt officials. I was scared. The place felt unwelcoming and therefore depressing. Life hadn't been the best for the past few months and nothing seemed to go right. I wasn't prepared for the winter and hence could not lift my head up in the wind or think straight. All I felt was cold.

It took an interview, a fight to get back what I deserved and a month of mere survival to realize this city is what you make of it. You can love it or hate it, but you cannot ignore it.

After three years of figuring out the way to live and make the most of this place, praying half the time that I achieve my goal, so life gets simpler and I can move on, here I am, wanting to share more of my life with this city. I've lived every minute here. Fast paced, stressed,timeless, selfish, immense competition for survival, yet accepting of new people, freedom of thought,expression,action; culturally vibrant, lively, fun and serene. A city of sky scrappers, constant traffic, lights, frequent blaring sirens of ambulances and police cars, loud music, sleepless, yet, at 2am when you sit by the East Hudson, watching a full moon on a clear night....New York radiates it's innocence. Of being a place that wants to exude peace and provide an opportunity for a better tomorrow.

New York.. you will always have a special place in my heart. Wishing you a future that keeps your innocence safe and your spirit untainted and a secret desire to have our paths cross again!

If only...

He sat by her side, not sparing a word. She had left him alone despite promises galore. In silence, he walked away, not a glance in her direction as he let her be from that day on. Tears welled up, but he threatened them against flowing down. He knew he had to get away, just didn't know where to go. He made a call and geared up his bike. He always knew his destination, this time he just let his bike decide.

There was his friend, one that has always been by his side. He stopped right in front of her and let the tears roll. The evening was spent in silence, just letting emotions flow out. With days that went by, he spent his every free moment with her. He needed the distraction, coz life and an empty head reminded him of his pain. It reminded him of unfulfilled promises and shattered dreams of a life that could be. He would talk to her, tell her all about the dreams, the person he shared a very recent part of his life, moments between them and somehow it never hurt to talk about it to her. It in fact had a calming effect. Soon, they would meet, but the talks were no more about shattered dreams and what could be, they were about things happening around them, of incidents and random talk. He liked her company. He liked the comfort and ease she would put him in. Life didn't seem all that bad while he was with her.

With time the openness and comfort improved. The broken promises and all the pain with it were forgotten. He was ready to move on. She was a miracle worker. He had never imagined that life could get rosy again. But she had worked her magic yet again and like each time, she had wielded her magic wand and wiped away the pain. He knew he needed her for life and he offered her his love. She accepted. She knew not when, how or why her fondness for him had grown. But does love ever need a reason? She knew he made her happy. She looked forward to the part of the day that she spent with him. She just felt lucky that he reciprocated the same.

Life went on. Days were now more about the other than just themselves. It mattered to know if the other was happy. It mattered to make the other's day a little easier if not more beautiful. There was happiness all around.

On one another evening, over a cup of tea, they sat just talking, like they always did. He very animatedly described his opinion on a recent happening and told her of a similar incident in the past. As he addressed her as part of his conversation, he took a name. She had heard the name a million times through out the time she knew him. But the name wasn't hers. She let it slide by and did not appraise him of his doing. After a few hours, it happened again. She kept quiet again. It bothered her. She just didn't know if she was overtly reacting to some genuine mistake or was it genuine to react coz this meant more than just a mistake. A few months later, it happened again. She knew there was more to it than just being a mistake each time. But, it happened rarely and on a very random note. His every action told her he cared for her immensely.Was she right in letting it bother her?

Was it just out of habit, of being in a relationship that had lasted a while, that he called out with a name that wasn't hers? or was there a recent event, may be a recent conversation with someone form the past or a conversation with her? Had she ever really had a place of her own in him or was it just a mere filling of a void that was left inside of him? Did he in the years that she was with him, for one day seen her for who she was and not for who she was filling in for?
For replacing or filling in she would never be able to do. She knew that she would never be loved the way he had once upon a time and she was ok with it. She had enough confidence in herself to evoke enough love and care over a period of time, as much as she deserved.

Was it fair to continue being seen as someone she was not? She loved him and cared for him immensely. He had seen broken promises before, should she be cruel and make him go through another episode of broken promises?

He sat beside her, in silence as she told him of other dreams she had..ones that did not have a place for him. He knew it was coming. He knew it had something to do with the times his tongue had slipped and she had said nothing. He now thought of how he should have explained it to her then and apologized. How he had thought of doing so, but just couldn't come up with a credible excuse. That it was a mere confusion of mind and sheer habit and meant nothing more to him. That she was all that mattered.It was because she was in his life that he had had the courage to move on. But, he hadn't told her and it was too late now. A decision was made and one that she was convinced was right. He knew she deserved more. He loved her and that is all the more why he should let her go. He held her hand, wished her the best in life, sunk her face in his memory and walked away.

She sat there alone watching him walk away. Could he not now have accepted it as a mistake and told her that she meant his life to him? May be, he did not coz after all, she did not really have her unique place in him. She probably merely filled the void and numbed the pain. She after all was not strong enough to help him move on.

A Perfect Morning!

Overlooking the tall buildings and the span of an entire city out of my window, the morning sun finally seen after months of cloudy,wet,cold winter mornings, new born leaves just sprouting on little branches that were lifeless just yesterday, the sky looking calm like it was at peace after a long time, a warm cup of coffee in hand, Pt. Shiv kumar Sharma's santoor playing in the back ground.... a perfect morning!

I've had many such perfect mornings and somehow all of them remind me of these mornings that came by at home. Lazy Sunday, wake up late, mom and dad on the porch outside, tea pot and the whole set laid out on the little round table in front, dad with the newspaper sprawled in front of his face, mom sipping slowly on a boiling hot cup of tea..quiet..just enjoying the fact that such a morning exists. Little drops of rain resting on the leaves, the earth with the typical fragrance of rain, the sun shy behind the clouds, yet radiant. An 8 yr old me...eyes half open, squinting to avoid the sudden brightness of the morning, sleepily walking, rubbing my eyes, oblivious to every thing around except the final destination of my mother's lap. Cradled in her arms, oblivious to demands of brushing my teeth and freshening up, drink milk and all other sundry, just feeling her heart beat against my cheek, smell the rain filled air, an obscure yellow orange ball ..an image of the sun with my eyes closed... it's heat soothing... in the background Pt Shiv kumar Sharma's santoor floating in the air from a cassette that has lived life for a while now.

Through all the perfect mornings that came my way, I realise that the 8yr old in me never grew up. She still rubs her eyes, walks sleepily oblivious to everythign around in search of the final destination of her mother's lap.

Moment

There were times as a 6 year old, I thought my world ended at whether I could swing higher each time without my heart racing as fast as it did. It was about whether this evening would be about playing hide and seek, run and catch or just a day at the swings and all the other bars that I loved hanging from and practice my budding gymnast skills.

Then I grew..taller for sure..mental development still under question! Life at 12 stopped at whether the teacher would be impressed with my homework, if my uniform was looking smart on me, if my friends thought I was cool to hang out with..and somehow the answer to that question didn't matter as much. There was a level of confidence that I would still have someone to go cycling with or play badminton with!

Come 17, life revolved around getting a good score at the boards, cracking the numerous entrance exams, getting into some fancy college and being the success story everybody around expected of me. Conversations with friends were always about what strategic step they had taken to live their success story..what career to choose, which tuitions to join, what exams to give. When the success story did happen and it was time to rejoice..we were all strewn apart. Life beckoned.

Then came College! We were adults now. Just that the elders at home didn't think so. There was a power struggle at all times. It made sense to decide little things about my life coz, I was grown up and yet there was always this lurking fear if the decisions made would be approved of or not. Somehow there still was always this necessity to ask before acting on the decision..be it small or big. Life now revolved around looking good, darting looks at the opposite sex, enjoying hostel life and all the freedom it threw at us..chuckling and gossiping with late night coffees as the rain poured down on the roofs, fluttering pages of the thick anatomy text book with a definite confidence in flunking the exam the next day, the little cups of tea between classes, the canteen-owner-claimed fried rice, zooming on the roads with a brash arrogance of playing the lead role in the film about one's own life! Life was lived by the day. Every moment gave a thrill.

Then came post graduation. Things got a little more serious. Life was about career and direction. The friends that had coffee and tea were carving their own niche. Jobs, wedding, further studies..the care free days were gone..buried in sand. Invitations in dozens came my way..."It would be a pleasure to have your gracious presence at my wedding with ...." Friends I had fun with were now playing more responsible roles. My life had taken it's own route. Further studies took me away from all these moments. Not one invitation I could honour, coz life happened.

New friends came along. Old friends not forgotten. New lives intertwined. I wondered if I would ever be part of any of my friends' biggest moments..be it graduation, wedding, first b'day of their little ones..just any occasion that means a lot to them.

And a day arrives, 11pm in the night, in the middle of a b'day celebration of a close friend, there comes a call. The other end says.." 4 pm tomorrow..I am getting married." " I have a mandatory class...you can't get married." " But..I am. I would love for you to be there with me. Please make it" A moment's thought. " Gimme the address. I'll be there" Address given. Mandatory class forgotten. It took me the entire night to digest the information. An excitement at finally being a part of his big day. Sheer happiness that he had found his. An inexplicable feeling that I can only describe as a happy state! The next morning went in a frenzy as I attended to the daily routine called life. Come noon, all excited about getting dressed in ethnic attire, caught the train and landed at the court room. There he was. There she was. Looking gorgeous and beaming at each other and everyone around. Hugs exchanged, unspoken words somehow spoken. The group of friends that made it to the moment and it's celebrations along with the couple could no more wait to have it all happen. And finally it did. Papers were signed..witnesses, bride, groom and the mayor. A piece of paper was handed over to them with the words " by law, you are now husband and wife". They were made to stand, hold each other's hands, look into each other's eyes and take the vows of marriage..of being there for each other until death did them apart. As I handled the video camera, trying to capture every moment until posterity, I noticed a gleam in my friend's eye, as the face smiles away. Focus on the others around them and every body's eye had the same gleam. After a while I realized I no more knew what I was recording through the blur of my own eyes. Swallowing the big knot in the throat and flapping the eyelids to push back tears, I rushed to congratulate the couple.

There I was staring at my friend on his big day, floating in happiness realizing that even if life beckons, it's up to us sometimes to grab these moments and cherish them. It felt special to be part of his cherished moment and nothing else in the world could make me feel that way! I also realized, that a lot of the moments I have collected over years have always been with someone or the other...friends...and my life is the way it is coz of these very friends.

Getting it just right!

If you are a sloppy cook like me, you would probably relate to this post a little more on a personal level. By sloppy, I do not mean the messy kitchen you leave behind, I mean the I-will-be-there-but-just-not-yet stage your dish ends up in!

There are many ways in which my food doesn't exactly end up tasting as good as it should...or at least smells! Gran ma would say, make sure the onions are fried till they turn golden brown. I will get them to turn golden and impatiently put the next seasoning in, and then wonder why my food doesn't taste like gran ma's! You see, the magic taste was in the onion turning that slight tinge of brown! Problem no.1- diagnosed as impatience!

Then there are times when I carefully note down every step in a certain recipe, including cut bell peppers lengthwise or cut them into square pieces. Recipes collected from known and experienced sources like gran ma and unknown, inexperienced sources like acquaintances in a party! I do exactly what I write down, to the punctuation mark..and yet it turns out either a disaster or a shade brighter than a disaster! When I discussed this with mom..she said, cooking is not in getting things perfectly, sometimes it is the imperfection that gives that extra tease to the palate! problem no.2-diagnosed as perfectionist! But..the last time I din't turn the onion to golden brown,it was imperfection. But that din't amuse my taste buds at all!

I always seem to add less of the seasoning than too much. So, now no one who eats my dish can figure what I had tried to make....n that includes me. Considering my extraordinary culinary skills, there aren't many who venture trying out anything I dish out!

But then..there come some days when you do everything just the way you are used to doing...sloppily, and the dish comes out as perfect as you had imagined. That one day...actually..the only one day was today for me! Tried making one of my favourite dishes with mom telling me the stepwise recipe a hundred times over phone and me having it written from the scriptures of cooking..my gran ma! Have attempted this particular project umpteen number of times before, but have never until today got it right! When, I finally garnished it and it looked, felt and tasted exactly like what I am used to seeing,feeling and eating it as, there is just nothing that can express my ecstasy! It was purely exhilarating. I mailed mom.(she would freak out if I had called her this excited in the middle of her night). I told my friends of my great achievement, which they very casually let go.You see they are not as sloppy.

You know it's the sloppiness that actually lets you feel this extreme pride and joy of that achievement! If you are the kinds that gets just about every dish perfect, i know you feel the pride too, but you wouldn't understand the extent of thrill that comes with getting it just right!

Powerless

I am one of those type of gals who has everything any other gal would die to have and yet feel powerless. I cannot reveal everything i have, coz in simple terms they call it boasting and if you understand complexities more than I do, you'll probably understand teh phrase 'blowing your own trumpet'. But, why do I feel powerless?

1. Every time in school, teacher asked us to write an essay on my favorite festival, the gal who read hers out just before I did, wrote and read out so beautifully, that the whole class and my teacher would still be drowning in her voice while I finished reading mine. N thus, noone heard.So, whether it was good or bad, it was not registered.

2. Maths is not every gal's forte and neither is it mine. The gals that could juggle with numbers better than Ronaldo can juggle with the soccer ball were more popular.

3. The day I wore that pink frilly dress most boys claim to despise but secretly like to see gals in, another gal would wear pink frilly dress with pink ribbons and lace lined socks.

Basically, there was someone always better than me. Now you'll tell me, why do you look at who is better than whom and who is not? Every individual has his own niche or creates one. Now tell me..do you remember that gal with the skirt that was just above her knee and sat right at her tiny waist, wore a crisp shirt, rose her creamy hand in air every time the chemistry prof asked to solve an equation, smartly walked up to the black board, elegantly picked up a chalk and wrote with the most beautiful handwriting you have ever seen the entire equation completely balanced? You do? Great..your memory is something I tell you! But that was not me. I was that healthy gal sitting next to her,engrossed inside the notebook trying to solve the equation before I confidently can raise my hand and write it on the blackboard. Now do you remember me? NO!!!!! But I thought your memory was good!

Now...if you are that tall,dark, handsome, broad shouldered,chiseled mandible guy every gal in the entire school drooled on, I am appalled that you don't remember me. But can't expect much from you, you were dumb to begin with. Now you'll ask me if I remember that tiny scrawny fellow that shared the desk with you and for the most part was engrossed in his notebook as much as i was and my answer would be yes..i do. Today he is in that MNC drawing a handsome salary and we still keep in touch.
I know, I was in a better position than the gal who was baffled just looking at the equation. At least I knew how to attempt it, so what if i was not quick enough.

My late granpa always told my mom that not all fingers on your hand are of the same size, but not one of them can undermine the importance of the other. And mom passed this saying on to me. But Granpa also said, always compare yourself with the person better than you. He said that so mom could better herself. But granpa.... that comparison thing makes me feel like a hapless baby turtle held by it's shell, frantically flapping it's paddles in air trying to move ahead.

How and Why?

It's amazing how everything you do everyday in life grabs your attention and excites you only when you are preparing for this life and death deciding exam.. I know most people after having lived 50 years of post exam phase think there is no exam that can be life defining and death defying. But, with all due respect, right now my entire universe depends on that exam I have on Monday morning. Forget the cliche of "i don't know why exams exist?" and all that. I just want to ask myself a few questions....

How come you find every single atom of dust on yourself when you take a bath the day before your exam and hence spend an extra half an hour, despite knowing that time is a crucial commodity?
How come that speck of dust escapes your vision other days?

How come Mamta Banerjee's strike in Singur strikes so much interest in you on the Saturday when bleeding disorders is going to be on the exam on Monday and the answer to those questions will not involve any of the blood, shed from beating up the security guard of the nano factory?

How come some of the most interesting blogs pop up on a blog hopping spree just before the exam?

Why do you get sudden hunger pangs that involve a certain craving for paani puris, aloo tikki and the likes....basically stuff that was available with mom around and right now only in your dreams?

Why does the dusk and the view of the financial district with the fading sun fancy your interest and lure your thoughts in the direction of the special someone you had, have or are waiting for? He is not going to help you answer any questions on chest pains and failing hearts. Oh..yes..that topic is also on the exam for monday....CVS..(student term)

How come you suddenly remember the entire list of songs,that you wanted to download onto your i-pod in the order that you wrote them on the back of that grocery bill that you accidentally threw into the dustbin...all before the exam?

Why does the irritation of sitting in a moderately messy room annoy the wits out of you and you set upon mission wipe-out-every square mm and do a neater job than your immune system does trying to wipe out the virus you caught, coz you did not listen to mom and went out in the cold without a sweater?

And when you know, that all your achieving by writing this post is losing another few precious minutes..the minutes that would writhe you with pain when a question from that one slide you could not read, just as you were entering the hall ,coz the proctor snatched away your ppt appears and decides whether you pass or fail .....why are you still at it?

So..lesson learnt...action planned..execution still under contemplation..but soon to be implemented.

relation...with an expiry date!

When two hearts connect as much as the minds do, the magic of it all is indescribable. And when the snap happens, the pain and the sunken feeling is...... indescribable!

They hit it off together, the moment they were introduced at a friend's birthday bash. She smiled with a silent "i thought so too" to everything her new friend said. Somehow it seemed like one of them was a mouth piece for the other. They met often after that and grew to be fast friends. They had as much fun as two gals would have when they identify with each other. Every outing was guaranteed fun. Every little hello would turn into a chat that would last till some part of the conversation would remind either of them that they met by chance and this chat was not planned, that the purpose was different from what was being achieved! A party plan would first start with filling each other with the day's or week's details that included things as shallow as who stood where while saying what to everything that hit the heart and din't! Yes, they were friends..they were soul mates.

Years went by, life went by...and they lived every minute to it's full. Life threw the dice in different ways and each climbed a different ladder. Yet at the end of the journey, they still found each other. Time and physical distance din't matter, till on one instance both dimensions got too big. It's surprising how we stop trusting the connection, how we doubt the thought of the very person who we claim to be a reflection, how unsure we get about the other person's perception of a certain act just coz time and distance got in the way. That is just what happened. Suddenly, there were silent thoughts on both sides that went on the lines of " do i really know her?". It's amazing how the connection and the snap occur with the same speed, same ease and without parameters. They just do.

Now an uncomfortable silence fills the space on the phone. The mind makes an effort to come up with things that can be shared with the surity that the other will perceive it in the same way as being said. Worse, the list of things would just get shorter with every call. Eventually the frequency of calls fall. Time and distance between the minds, just got bigger...enough to let the connection be a part of posterity. Each would remember the bygone days and pray the other is leading a life peacefully. And that thought was the only thing that stayed constant from the past to the present.

Life and it's ways. The friend is not lost, yet the thought of the person brings an uncomfortable feeling that relates to pain that comes with a loss. Why?

musing...

Life sometimes teaches you the big lessons in a small way and the small lessons in a big way! I've always wondered how life comes up with a methodology of teaching the various lessons to it's own creation in a quest to make it perfect and balanced!

I wondered why it was so important to come close to perfection? I wondered what was the picture of perfection? I wondered why these lessons need to be learnt? I wondered if every creation really wanted to meet perfection,or was it just the libran in me. How does it matter to be balanced?

I do not know the picture of perfection,but I do know what picture of me I seek to be. I do not know how it matters to be close to perfection, but I know I will be at peace if I am that picture I seek to be.I've reached this perfection many times in life and then a sudden act snatches that peace away. Life's lessons are about reflecting on how delicate perfection is, on how minute and intricate it's boundaries are and what inside of one needs to change to make those boundaries stronger. The balance is about attaining the picture one wants to be by maintaining the lines n strokes that are part of the perfect picture and changing the ones that aren't. For refraining from doing either can destroy the image.

Perfection I thus thought was about being at peace with oneself, about being happy with who you are and reflect to the world around you.

In awe...

How many times has it happened to you,that you come across glimpses of another being's personality and it stuns you? It's the experiences that shape a personality is what I've heard most times, but isn't it also what you make of the experiences that shape you? Isn't that the reason why some people grow with experience while most others either stagnate or worse, undo their growth thus far.

In the past few weeks, significant experiences have left me feeling like the lesser mortal, when I suddenly was made aware of the vast expanse of growth that my being is hungry for. I wondered what it was about the personality that got them so ahead on the face of the same earth that I share too! Age,accomplishments or much more?

Sitting in a classroom of 100 odd students, in the middle of a regular tiring day,with an exam following that lecture, isn't the setting I would expect to be jolted out of my senses! But I guess, the impact of something is maximum when you least expect it to happen. As we all sat, catching up with each other on the week that had gone by, in walked a tall,well-built man in a suit. The first thing you would notice about him is his mop of silver. As he walked around the podium trying to set up for his lecture, I caught his eye. Not thinking much, I continued to contribute to the din. After what felt like just a second later, one of our familiar professors walked up and took the liberty of introducing the man with the silver mop! He was an alumnus of the college, a pioneer in one of the subjects in dentistry(Cosmetic dentistry) that has now become the face of dentistry to the common man, currently one of the most successful practitioners in the city with high profile clients. A man whose works I have read as a student getting introduced to a new subject and as a curious learner wanting to know more. Someone I had associated a face to with the name on the cover page of the book,with not even the slightest imagination that one day I would actually see the real face to the name! The feeling of sharing the same breathing space with a legend,seeing him from a distance of 5 feet, getting an eye contact which to him would have been just another moment,but to me was a defining one, gave me a heightened feeling. It was definitely inspiring to say the least!! The simplicity with which this figure walked in,unannounced,no pompousness, no VIP treatment, just another regular guy coming to teach a classroom half of which is filled with students who were living a parallel life mentally while physically being here, was what touched me the most. That act to me defined his growth as an individual.

...left me wondering, if there ever would be a student who would be as awed, by my existence...
..left me also wondering if I would ever utilise the opportunities I get, to grow so much as an individual..

The extra day!!

The first leap year ever since I started my blog..n I just had to make an entry! This may be an amalgam of utterly incoherent set of sentences..but then..as I said..it was all about making an entry on this day!!

I love the idea of getting an extra day to live! We all say, life is so short and there is so much to see. So. I plan to make the most of this extra day! But what all can I do today? How many things can I actually give the extra special touch to? If it was up to me, ti would be to everything I routinely do n a lot more!

Sometimes I wonder, why I get so excited about little things like this? The other day, as I watched the sunset over the skyline from my window, I wondered if there were any two sunsets I had seen that were the same! That means the sunset my eyes are soaking in right now,will never happen again! So,isn't this one-time wonder special? To think that in my lifetime again, this signature of the sun to signal the end of another tiring yet beautiful day,will never be seen again, just made me hold on to that moment a little longer.

With all due respect to every relation I am in, the beauty of staying with myself,having those moments of solitude,to appreciate every little thing around me,may be the buildings around or just the little rose that is probably breathing it's last today in that small vase, the dying flame of the candle with it's unique existence adding to the beauty of the ambience, inspite of the magnificent radiance of the morning sun, is something that is absolutely invaluable to me! The freedom to stop a moment before flying through the door in a hurry to get to work on time, to just check how the little snowflake trickled down my window pane, is amazing! Most people find it crazy. I have a heard a lot of people tell me that I should be more practical and realistic and less of the romantic! But everybody lives life. Everybody wakes up in the morning, gets about doing the daily chores,gets to work,comes back from work,,watch TV, have a dinner,hang out with friends,watch a movie and crash into bed again. Yes,these things have their own joy associated. But, Have you ever wondered, what the flower that just bloomed outside looks like when it shies away from the early morning sun? What an aeroplane traversing the vastness of the sky looks like at the touch of dawn? The feel of watching the building in front of you, that you have seen every day,every moment that you have been home, reveal itself as the late night mist clears away? or may be, the antics of the little boy living downstairs,as he has an encounter with the first snow of the year?

Yes,these are little things..magical in themselves.They replenish the vigour in me,fill me with a sense of being alive and soaking in life! I love being a romantic. After all, what matters is the eagerness to live each day to it's fullest.Who cares what sets that eagerness?

So, here is that extra day and I am all set to soak it in!

What now?

They met at a mutual friend's annual party. She spotted him first. He was dancing and she noticed him coz she hadn't seen a man look majestic as he danced! Through the party her eyes kept drifiting in his direction...not that she wanted to catch more glimpses of him! She retired that night with the content of having had an enjoyable evening. After all, these parties were about "meeting new and interesting people" as they say!

As with other parties, present took over past....reality took over fresh memories. The struggle and routine of life kept her busy and as with many other interesting people she had met, this one was forgotten too!

She was workign for a well-established firm as human resource officer. Recruitment was something she had to deal with everyday. Thus, meeting new people, tactfully letting them reveal their dreams and ambitions and assessing whether their relationship with the firm would be mutually beneficial was her forte. After all, we all do this assessment of eachother in any relation we make in this world. Whether we go ahead inspite of the confliciting dreams or part ways inspite of having the same goal is a different deal all together!

As she made her preparations to go through another session of appraisal, she was called for by her head.They had found her some help and wanted her to familiarise the office and work ethics to the fresh member in the work force. As she was introduced to him, a sudden wave of familiarity hit her, but she just couldn't place him. She categorised it as one of those 'deja-vu' incidents and let it pass.

Over the next few days she found him adept and amicable, two minimum qualities that one needs a co-worker to have for peaceful co-existence. Their equation was strictly professional. Neither had made an attempt to get friendly beyond what was minimum necessary. But there was an enigmatic angle to that equation..something that seemed to fit the description of admiration,respect or mebbe venture into the realm of attraction. It was ambigious...neither of them could describe it but both if asked would definitely not deny it's existence.

She was an introvert. Though she was a very affable person and a great conversationalist, there was just so much you could make her reveal. Some people would unanimously rate her the winner of a talkathon while others would swear by her patience at being a listener.She was outspoken enough to get what she wanted. This quality of hers along with the bit of being a conversationalist would throw people off the idea of her being an introvert. But can't this combination exist? Aren't there people who can talk the world to another person but be reticent when it comes to laying their heart bare,no matter how close the listener may be?

The affable side of her once broke the ice or rather crossed the line that the enigmatic angle of their equation had drawn. He perceived it as making the first 'move'. She realised that perception and made a mental note at being more careful about maintaining the line. Did she truly want to cross that line? Did she really want to add another definite angle to the existing equation? Something din't let her answer those questions with credible positivity.

She traced her steps very carefully the next few days. His actions were met with luke warm enthusiasm. He found it difficult to pierce through her defence,there was something about her that was very gaurded. Her careful tread was now perceived by him as arrogance. After all she had made the first 'move'. He decided to step back too. She was not the end of the world!

It was the start of another year. The past year seemed to go by in a jify and the present year seemed to come by in a jiffy! As she waded into the sea of people enjoying the celeberations, she critiqued the decor and ambience of the venue, the fashion sense of people her eyes fell on, the couples that floated around and various such observations. As her eyes went scanning the room, they fell on a pair of broad shoulders that floated on the dance floor with exemplary ease. there was somethign very familiar about that majestic look. As the shoulders turned to reveal the face, a flash from a distant past seemed to culminate with her recent past and the present.

Yes,it was him..the majestic dancer who also is her colleague. What now?

Valentine's day!

Valentine's day....a day that celeberates the thumping hearts, the language of the eyes, the unspoken words, the talking silence....a day when most people make an effort and take some time out to let some of the most important people know, what and how much they mean to them.
While most of the world is divided among two groups...one that believes in celeberating this day and the other that doesn't, I guess I belong to a completely different group. To me, this day is about celeberating myself! Coz..when you love someone ( be it mom,dad,friend or a lover) you somehow unwittingly give a part of yourself to them to keep for life and that part of you now belongs to them. So, when I acknowledge their importance in my life, I am acknowledging the fact that I belong to them. From experience I can say..that the feeling of belonging to someone is beautiful, one that puts in a lot of responsibility but one that gives you a purpose and celeberates your existence.

So, when do I celeberate the others' being? Every other day...coz every other day,everything I do depends on the amount and quality of ripples my action will create in their lives. Everything I do is thoughtfully considered,planned,replayed a thousand times, before it is actually carried out to weigh the consequences. So, don't I ever do anything on an impulse? I do..infact most often...and those impulsive acts are ones that come with instant gratification,sometimes positive and many a times negative. But these acts are all the small ones, ones that are inconsequential in the larger frame, ones that bring the thrill in living, the feeling of adventure... n irrespective of the consequence are very enjoyable.

So, yes..to me Valentine's Day is important, it's a day when I pamper myself by telling the people I love that it feels invigorating to belong to them!

Standing

What he feared the most had happened. Life had intervened and he had to take a step back. They had been together for 4 years now,4 years worth of time with friendship worth a lifetime. Cupid never struck them. Their friendship was simple. It was ideal...no expectations what so ever,both ready to only give and keep giving.

As he looked at her for the last time that day, he saw a face that held itself strong,minimal expressions, a pair of eyes that had lost it's glitter and was probably the only tell tale sign of despair. She was smiling as she heard him say goodbye. He never understood why.

It's been 20 years to that incident.They have both travelled down the roads of life oblivious to each other. As he seats himself and waits for the flight to take off, his mind envisions that young,strong face....a face that while smiling, cried in agony with no tears shed. He wondered how much must have changed in that face...if at all it had changed.He relived moments they had spent together...randomly.With each episode,he writhed in pain of not letting her be part of the journey he had taken hence. There was nothing he could do,she had asked for it. She was moving on with life and could not take him along.It was time to part she had told him. But do friends part by merely an end to communication, an ignorance of geographic location, a lapse of time and all the events it brought along? Doesn't friendship live on with a silent prayer for each other, a moment of thought in all those special moments, in the feeling of missing that person in the most beautiful times of life? Aren't friends soul mates?

A complete stop to communication and a request to step out and never make an effort to return had chained him from sending the prayers across in words..said or written, of acknowledging the influence of her existence and the effect of it. It took him an effort to hold back the happiness, the pain, the purity of a simple thought going across to her. But he did it, coz he respected her wishes. Was this friendship?

He wondered if he would ever see her again. And if he did....what would he do? Would he go up to her,talk to her? What would he say? Where would he start from? It wasn't the first time that these questions had plagued him. They were there from the time he had said goodbye.
Just as they plagued him one more time, He saw her. He knew it the moment he set his eyes on her. She was just the same inspite of evidence of all the years that had gone by. He just sat still,soaking into her face.It had been a while since he had seen the glitter in her eyes.It was there right now...the shimmer of eyes that have been soaked in happiness. It filled him with a serene feeling...a feeling of content knowing that she was fine and just as happy as he had wanted her to be. Could he break the rule for a minute and exchange a few words with her or should he honour her words and fall silent? He decided to do the latter.
After all she must have had a reason to do what she did,so what if he doesn't know anything about it. He had learnt to trust her decisions blindly, unquestioned....for friendship was all about trust.

pondering...

It's been a while since I have played with words and relied on them to reveal the feel of every experience I have had. Life kept running and left me tryign to catch up with it's pace. Most times, I was successful..but everytime I failed, it just pushed me to try harder.

This country has taught me a lot in a matter of a very short time. It has taught me, that life doesn't stop at any point. When things don't happen the way you expect them to, you try to make them happen...not now, not then..but definitely sometime. An experience of living life in your own terms, the freedom of decision, the entireity of harvesting on the perks of a right one and the responsibility of bearing the consequence of the wrong one. The sheer independent effort at trying to solve the small puzzles of life that have a bigger impact in this materialistic world.

Yes,I have been a pampered soul..pampered with the love of parents and friends, pampered with comfort and security, shielded from the effects of the dark side of the world, a protective veil that let me see and learn from,but not face painful experiences. The pampering was not indulgent, so it let me make my own opinion on experiences, let me believe in the lessons I had learnt the way I did. And they all came in handy when I fiinally flew out of the comfort zone to find my own niche.

What the experience of being on the roads on my own revealed, was the power of healing, that was deep in me..so deep that I was unaware of it's existence. A strength that I seem to so often call upon to propel me forward, towards a goal I seem so passionate to reach..a goal that was unidimensional a little while ago, but is now multidimensional with obscure edges.

All this for a dream I dream and so want to see it come alive!

:-)

Sitting on the window sill of a high rise building....good music.....a view of the city on the banks of the Hudson....a mix of nature,it's mysteries slowly revealing....and the sophisticated signs of human inhabitation.....friends over...dinner cooking.....movie on....chatter all over....eve of an exam....i am blogging!!

A weekend in New York!!