His hands froze as they reached the doorknob.His reluctance held him back,like a huge boulder tied to his back.Or maybe it was the weight of the bag slung over his shoulders,he couldn't decide which. A few worldly possessions were in that bag,clothes,an ipod,shoes,a camera... And yet,he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was leaving behind something. He mouthed a silent goodbye to Rover,nipping playfully at his feet.
He took a glance at the digital clock on the wall in the dark-2 AM, it said. It was time.
He turned the doorknob as silently as he could. One more step and he would begin his journey.
"Wait!", the words hit him with the force of an express train. "You forgot something", said the voice at the bedroom door he knew since before he was born. He turned back slowly and looked her in the eyes,questioningly. She crossed the short distance between them in three steps and held out a hand,dropping something shiny and silver into his hands.
"These are the house keys. You can always come back...".

"Goodbye",he said and turned before she could see the tears. And he stepped forward into the darkness.
He knew he would come back some day,but for now,his future beckoned,and he had to go...

Where there is a will, there is a way....

17 words... That was all he had in front of him at the moment. After 8 hours of hard work and countless coffees later, all he had were these 17 words.
He laughed out loud enough to scatter the pigeons on his window sill. These words would have to do. "The Last Will and Testament" was the heading for what would be the most explosive document to break his current society's spine and astonish everyone who knew about what was to come.
He had thought hard and long about it, spent countless nights wondering if it was the right thing to do.

"No, Mr W, how will you explain it to the superpower above, the one true God you believe in...? How will they ever learn? It is up to you to teach them. After that, it is up to them to apply what they have learnt. We can only hope they turn out well..."

came back these harsh words of his servant of forty years. That was enough to steel his resolve and make him sit on this computer today.

"I leave 400 million $ to charity. My sons are not my own.They belong to their vices".

"That would teach them",he hoped,nay,prayed.
As he signed the document, he could already see tomorrow's headlines,

"Millionaire leaves heirs penniless"

A smile came over his lips as he eyed the gun on his table. His last and final act would bring his sons together,at last.


--- Based on a story that could be true...

The End is near....

And so ends another year...2009! what did we see in this year that blew our hats away?
Nothing special, just the usual apathy, ignorance,indifference and even more interestingly, the same old boring routine that marks our everyday life for what it really is...an attempt to make something of ourselves that has gone horribly wrong, somewhere along the way...
As we gear up for another festive season around the corner(God, I'll miss them next year,all of them on weekends.....damn!) we do the usual introspection and come up with the usual suspects- Time and Money.There's not enough of both to last us our lifetime...
And so we end up rushing through our day, trying to save all the hours that we have saved up for what?So that we can rush some more?
And so, when this year ends, I have decided one thing.My resolution for next year is very simple. It is the end of my apathy, my ignorance of what truly matters - the time I give to myself and my family.
And so I say with full pride, the end is near... And there is going to be a new beginning. Happy New Year to everybody in advance!

He stood on the ledge overlooking the breakers and looked at the sky above.
It was a beautiful evening made even more beautiful by the fact that it was the beginning of a new life for him...
He'd been struggling for the past 3 months with a lot of things in life. And today, all that was about to change.All that suffering was about to end forever.He closed his eyes, feeling the cool breeze whip at his face.
He smiled and opened his arms wide.He could almost feel the embrace of hope that he had been carrying with him all these days.
"My first song", he thought. "All these years. All these years of hard work, and its finally here...".
As a struggling singer, he'd spent so many sleepless nights on this very ledge.Speaking to the sea.Crying his heart out when he couldn't take it anymore.
Today, his dream had come true.His first recording had just ended and the director's words rumbled loudly in his ears,"Dude, you are gonna rock this nation...".
He felt the temperature fall suddenly. The first drop of rain came rushing to his parched eyes. As he heard the faint strains of his song flow through his head, he finally felt free.This was it.His moment.

"Oye, kya kar rahai? baarish mein kyu khada hai?" asked the policeman with a mixture of suspicion that was hard to miss.
"Bheeg raha hu, sirji." He said with a smile. "Main star banne ja raha hu. Pata nahi shayad baadme kabhi aisa mauka mile na mile....."

His heart was beating wildly out of control and he knew there was nothing he could do about it.
He had waited, 28 long years for this day. God, he thought, has kept me alive just for this.

His forehead was burning hot, feverish with excitement. His eyes were unblinking, focussed and completely attuned to his target.
He had the feeling that there were a hundred horses in his stomach,racing for their life and he had the strangest feeling that he was enjoying it all the same.Muscles tensed, bunched,knotted and stretched,like bands of steel,he knew this couldn't go on for long. In a few moments, he knew it would all end.

He was a qualified doctor, and a good one. But today, all that had been forgotten.The hundreds of people awaiting him at the clinic would have to wait another day for him.This was far too important for such trivial matters as life and death.

And slowly, as the moment neared, he could feel the rest of his senses slipping away, oozing slowly from his body as only his sight remained.
He realised he was holding his breath. The man on the screen in from of him finally stepped forward and hit the ball out of the ground off the final ball.A SIX!!!
This was it!! India had won the World Cup!!!
He let his breath whoosh out of him.And he screamed.And screamed.

"Wake up Sid!!! what the hell is the matter with you??" he heard.

And he blinked.Suddenly, the colors changed.He was blinking furiously at his bedroom ceiling.
"Whew!!!" he said out loud.
"Mom, don't worry. It was just a dream.A dream that may never come true....."

Laughter club

There were gaping holes on both sides of him. There was also something about that emptiness that haunted him too badly to want to continue with his daily routine.
Mr Singh and Mr Malhotra.Both victims of age.And disease.And he knew it was not long before he too would walk the same path.
And yet, today here he was, at the foot of his building, laughing his guts out.Loudly.
"Fantasy Laughter club", he thought. "What a name! Fantastic.All I need is a pin and a name tag."

He looked around with quiet amusement.A pot-bellied gujju fellow he barely knew,who had just joined the club a few days back was laughing out the loudest.A few ladies trying hard to match the volume with their shrill laughter, but only managing to add to the general cacophony.
A hundred windows opened out to them, each cursing the club for the club's early morning incursion into their precious hours of sleep.And a few kids rushing around,on cycles, on skates, on rubber shoes,each pushed by an inner need to....
To what exactly?He didn't know.But he wished he did.

"Mr Purushottam, what's the matter? Why aren't you laughing?" asked the young man at the head of the group.
"I'm not happy", came the reply.And it surprised him.He didn't know he was capable of such lucidity. "None of us are.We only laugh because it beats stress."

And finally, it hit him. His laughter had now become part of his daily monotony.

A day in the life of Mumbai

I look out of my window on a dark and gloomy Friday evening, and it strikes me as amazing, how so suddenly the weather changes right in front of our eyes, and yet we do not notice it.

The evenings, they have always been theatrical, the riot of colors, the blue vistas and the oranges and grays, each competing for our attention, but sadly, none succeeding.
One day, the evening ends at seven, all happy and aglow, and over the next few days, it’s as if they are in a hurry to spread out the blue blankets. Six o’clock suddenly seems like seven used to, and seven, well, seven as always.

The evening walkers, in their daily attire, are amused at the lack of light, but nevertheless, carry on in their mission to cover their daily distances as usual. The kids are unhappy, for their hours of delight are woefully cut down, and for no fault of theirs too. The rains, as is usual during such days, bring with it a faint smell of melancholic sadness, as if nature herself rues the haziness, but is helpless against it. We all feel it in our bones, that moment when we wish we could all have spent a more profitable today in Switzerland or other places north.

But Mumbai in its inevitable madness never ceases to amaze me either. As has been said a thousand times before me, the city never sleeps. The trains, they rumble on, regardless of the rain and the light, or the lack thereof. The buses continue to hog the road and fight with rickshaws for supremacy, putting countless commuters through their daily grind.
And really, come to think of it, we all feel a bit let down if there is no harassment, no real incident that marks out the Mumbai city life for what it is. What is it with us? No one knows. It’s part of the mystery that is Mumbai. It is part of our existence, part of the mark on our foreheads that tells the devil leave them be, they have already gone through hell.

And when all is said and done, in the evenings, we all travel the same roads that lead to home, after what is a normal day for us, with another battle on our hands.
The roads(At least I assume that’s what they are called these days) continue to win the pockmarks contest hands down, and everybody gets home at the end of another harrowing day, too tired to notice that the weather has changed again.

Words...

all the words in the world,
are not enough when we are sad,
yet,a simple touch may take away
all the grief we ever had...
Some company,compassion, a little love,
are all we ever pine for,
Yet,these very things evade us,and how
it makes us wish for more...
Those little words, every man searches within,
To make peace,with himself,his soul
To find his place in this vast vast world,
To make his life seem whole...
Words that seek to justify his living,
To regale,reveal,reverberate,
With a story,of life,still unfulfilled,promising,
And words,asking him to wait...

Love

i've been in love with you,
every second,minute,hour that i knew
And now i keep lookin for you,
Can you feel it too,My love for you...
Its not so hard, to remember the day,
When your eyes met mine,
All i could ever do was pray,
That you'd be mine,that you'd be mine...
I'd love to see my love reflect in your eyes,
I'd love to hold you tight,to never let go...
I'd love to be with you,when you take to the skies,
I'd love to say i love you,how i'd love to let you know...

From behind a hooded veil,glowing,
Smiles a face, unknown to me,
With eyes,a million miles away, yet knowing,
Of secrets, that I couldn't see...

A silvery glow,so inviting,that veil,
Yet without cure,deathly pale,
I seek a treasure there,left behind,
That never ever was mine to find...

A thousand eyes have set upon that visage,
But now,she hides from sight,
As if to taunt,ridicule my plight,
Like an oasis,a desert mirage...

At last, the stars in my favor,descend upon the night,
Deciding to give me a chance,
To talk to the moon, to end our fight,
To have another moonlight dance...

A trip to Alibaug.....

Well...
Now what do i write? Three days of pure unadulterated fun, frolic and enjoyment... When I agreed to go along to Alibaug to escape the stress and frenzied life in Mumbai, I never knew I would end up having so much fun in the process.
There we were, the six of us, Ajayraj, Ameya, Me, Nikhil, Sandeep and Rohit at the break of dawn on the 1st of May at Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, ready to embark on a trip to Alibaug.
Day 1
The fun started in the line to get tickets for the boat to Alibaug. We saw a few trees that reminded us of something I cannot write here... And Ameya's Gym bag opened up a literal Pandora's box for him...Poor Ameya.Little did he know what would await him. Then there was the boat trip itself, with the other guys tripping over themselves to get a good seat (and an even better view...!! of what else...girls!)

Once at Alibaug, we kept all our 'saamaan'(enough for a small army, going by Ajay's standards) in our room, and left for Alibaug beach.
There we began walking thru water right in the middle of the sea towards the Alibaug fort... knee deep and steadily rising.We almost reached there.But alas! it was not to be. A failed attempt but success in that we were able to enjoy ourselves at the beach...
After a few replenishments and lunch at a good restaurant (Mumbai restaurants eat your hearts out!!! IT IS SO DAMN CHEAP), we went to Nagaon. Here poor Rohit and Ameya were being stalked by a lady while they were changing clothes...
We rode the "DUK DUK"s all the way and then went back home to a moderately good dinner.The best part came here... A night at the beach nearby...Moonlight and beautiful scenery..It was amazing!

Day 2
The next day we were off to a bit of history...Murud Janjira-The Impregnable fortress right in the middle of the sea.
2 Hrs in a rickety state transport bus did not dampen our spirits as we were sure we would have some fun here. The only sad part was we had to watch as a beautiful Kashid Beach went past us on our way.

We were amazed at the ability of the people 950 years ago, they took up the challenge of building an impregnable fortress and succeeded to a fair extent.
But, if you take a look at it now, it would rend your heart. Demolished, routed, rubbished and devastated, it looks forlon, forbidding and still holds within it the heart and soul of an era that has passed us by unheeded.

There was a guide who (mis)guided us about the history of the place.(22 Towers, 22 Years, 22 Acres, what rot!).

Rohit's compass decided to play truant at this point.
Well, for hundreds and thousands of years now, East is where the sun rise happens and West is where it sets. But Rohit's compass, for some strange reason unknown to us still, it decided otherwise! We spent quite a bit of time reasoning and arguing, but in the end, decided to stick to the traditional way of life and distrust his compass for the moment until providence proves us wrong.

There was some fantastic scenery on show there..(and for those in onto a little secret, I am not talking about turtles and 'Thigh'land...)

The return trip back home in ST bus was uneventful, followed by a mammoth dinner,(dirt cheap I might add..hey,this keeps coming up). There was some delightful Malai Pista Kulfi(kandi in local terms) to be had for dessert too.

Then comes the night when Sandeep pulled a fast one on Ameya by scaring him with a few ghostly sounds, good enough trick under the circumstances...We were awake till 2:30 am, talking and jibbering. All in all, it was a successful day, well spent.

Day 3

On the last day, everything went like clockwork. We were up and ready to go to Kihim Beach.We traded ghost stories at breakfast,(Ameya was too scared the previous night, thanks to Sandeep). We were lured into trying para-sailing, at 300 Rs a person, it felt like a good deal. Unfortunately, I and Ameya were not allowed to go at first owing to our girth. I think the guy was deranged or had a seriously bad sense of humor. Anyway, we came back later and did go para-sailing.
It was one of the most amazing things. To lift off the ground and look at the world from above is an experience every1 shud try atleast once.It was especially fun to see Ameya drag the jeep up with him as he flew!!

I soon realized that no journey carries one far unless, as it extends into the world around us, it goes an equal distance into the world within

Ajay,on his way out of the boat back on Mumbai somehow managed to rile an idiotic old man, who for some reason thought that Ajay was trying to molest his wife.(AS IF!!!). The scene that Ajay created was to be seen to be believed, and I think the old man fled fearing for his life, and that of his wife.

And finally, we caught the train back to Bhandup, back to our old lives, back to mundane existence and back to good old Mumbai..

No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow

This is the tale of our trip, a story I will remember until there comes a time when I can't remember it anymore.
If there is anything I've left out guys, its purely keeping your interests at heart, and I hope you will remember the juicier bits and reminisce together on our next outing... Adios Amigos...

A bus ride...

Verily a bus ride I try,
To remember,yet still
many many hours fly
In a bus,uncounted I fill...
As I watch,the window shows,
The rest of the world,its ebbs and flows;
These sights and sounds,they parody
A new yet familiar orchestra's melody...
As the wind blows in my face,
I suddenly feel the urge to race,
The exhilaration i feel,as it gobbles up the road,
There's never a moment left to feel bored...
Some old faces,I remember from everyday,
Some new ones i see too,that fade away;
Such is life, You'll find your destination one day,
What matters is the journey along the way...

Insignificance

Insignificance,my friend,Is a grave matter,Of putting your whole life,Out there on a platter.
You shout,you scream,you make yourself hoary.But does anybody listen,Now thats another story...
A second glance,a thought,thats all you vie for, But a snobbish world awaits,tat doesn't care anymore...
Your insignificance,your mind's devil,It burns up your soul
It blackens your heart,like ashes from coal...
Greet not my friend,these silences with tears,
But face them instead,and banish your fears
then within you,you'll find,what was always there,
Then you'll give your true worth, for the whole world to share...

Goodbyes...

These are hard words to say,these goodbyes,
for they only bring tears to the eyes...
They evoke a picture,lush green,a smile they bring,
And of a tomorrow unknown, no longer seen,no longer spring...
Hath but in thy hands,other words to speak, To elucidate thine sorrow, yet lesser bleak...
A future,where our hands are no longer clasped together, All alive but in memories,that we spent in fine weather...
Call it lady luck,cruel fate,or just destiny
For there must come a day,when we must part ways,
And choose our own path,to life,to harmony,
For there must come a day,when we choose what stays...
Though rivulets may flow,through eyes,unbidden
It doth remind us of some love,still hidden
We all die a little,inside us,somewhere,
These wounds never heal,but we pretend not to care...

What is FAITH?
Its a question that often haunts me on those lonely nights when I have nothing better to do than thinking about such mundane topics that were once the reason for many great minds to disintegrate...
According to wikipedia(I have a lot of faith in Wikipedia by the way...!)Faith is the confident belief in the truth of or trustworthiness of a person,idea,or thing. But what if what we believe in is not really known to be the truth but something we wish were true?Where does that leave our faith? We believe that the truth will set us free (Veritas vos liberabit...), but then, what is the truth except for someone somewhere interpreting some event as being part of his idea of right or wrong and documenting it for the sake of the generations to follow? It is succeeding generations that will remember this message and bear the imprint in their hearts.
No wonder many great minds over the centuries have pondered over such thoughts and, well, gone crazy!
There is no particular reason for my posing such a question, but when the time comes for man to make peace with his own mind, I guess no question is a better one than this. The answer to that is not easily obtained... but then what is life if we do not pose the right questions?

Every time....

Every time i think of you,
I shed a little tear,
Every time i remember you,
I can feel you near,
I can see your smiling face,
Every time i close my eyes,
Everything else just is a haze,
and my world just feels so nice...
I could find no words to say,
What i feel in my soul today,
And every day,henceforth i will,
Regret being quiet,but still...
Every time my eyes will bleed,
I will say to myself,Be strong,
'Cos to you my heart will lead,
'Cos one day We'll meet, it won't be long...

Last Day on the Project

It was an intensely emotional day today...
It was my last day working on the Amex Project in Accenture... been working here since September 2007... so quite a long time actually!! Made quite a few close friends and nearly came to tears when the time came to bid goodbye..
I somehow felt strange that i will never get to sit in that familiar seat again, never get to play a prank on my neighbour or any of the other hundred routine things that i have come to take for granted as part of my life...
Now i have a new beginning to look forward to.... Sometimes waiting for the unseen and the unexpected brings another dimension to an otherwise mundane life...

FEEL...

You cannot feel, the night so beautiful
As she calls me to her, from afar
You cannot feel the angel of peace; 
As she passes you by, resplendent, surreal.

You do not see the army of stars
They beckon to me so, and ask me to be
One with the earth, one with the sea; 
One with the purity that you cannot see

I ask you to be, more than a human, 
And open your soul, to the power above
I ask you to be, just like the miracle, 
That you really were meant to be

I need you to feel, the cold chilly wind
And hear the stories, she wants you to know.
I want you to care, for the brooks and the streams, 
I want you to be in my dreams…

And I wish you return every night, again
To show me how beautiful this world is; 
To rid me of suffering, to ease my pain
To sooth my soul, with a single kiss… 

Season of Love

Spare a thought,this season of love,
For that poor little loveless soul,
Who spends the days in morbidity,and how,
For him the bell does toll...
For everywhere he turns,are twain entwined,
Doth sing out to him,the robins and jays,
But he alone is alone,says his mind,
Deliverance,for deliverance he prays...
With flowers abloom,birds in the air,
When lovers meet without a care;
Solitude envelops him,like clear blue bubbles,
And remind him so of his troubles...
For a kindred soul,he looks around,
But emptiness replies,without even a sound...
Spare him his misery,leave him be...
For his mangled heart has hurt and bled so,
The depth of his pain, for lack of a love,
Is for everyone to see,he has nowhere to go...