Not Very Unlike You

I love life. Not that my life is any better than yours. I still love it. I do not judge my life against what it has in store me. It is neutral kind of love and it is constant. It is like breathing and will be so until it leave me wanting some day, for one more lungful of life.

Sometime I win, mostly lose. Some days I am happy, other days are sad, and like you, I do not remember most of the in-between days in my life.  I believe in God, and I love to fall in love. I respect those who love me for they are so wonderfully patient, I do not hate those who ignore me, I can't see things about me the way they do, hence, probably what they do to me is in someway right too. I am not sure if I could die for a cause, I am for sure too fickle to live by one. Some days I cry for my fellow human beings, most days I cry for myself. 

No, I don’t go ahead and take that plunge; I am yet to do those special things I always wanted to do in my life. I am sure I will never end up living those moments I wanted myself to live. In this un-living is the possibility of living… and this fuel my dreams and fires my love… for life. 

I will someday be all that I wanted to be, that someday is many days away, and I am thankful to keep it that way.

Little Lines


Ink In My Life

I am the eye of the storm, when you live in me, I am at peace; I am calm. When the dreams of living are tossed aside, the spirit of survival cranks up the muse. I pick my pen and put you to good use.

Winter of Discontent

Some day we will connect again. Pick up the fallen pieces and glue them up again. What shape the future holds I already know. The pieces that we left behind in the snow, someday, they will thaw.

Bengali Belles, Balle! Balle!

Just completed a two day stay at Kolkata, the so called “uber-conservative”, “stuck in time” capital of West Bengal (a state in eastern India). The city seemed lot cleaner that what I remember from a decade ago but retains the essential spirit of a market place that somehow got too big and had to be called a city!

I was coming into Kolkatta from a place that had below par road and rail connectivity and was quite tired from all the traveling through the labyrinthine intestines of India, but the belles of Kolkata changed it all. This is my tribute to some of the most beautiful women to populate this universe, the women of Kolkata!
Early into the day, I was waiting somewhere near a Metro (tube) station near Central Avenue for a business associate to pick me up when my eyes first popped out. There was this beautiful Goddess Durga-looking female crossing the crowded street full of rickshaws, yellow taxis and pot bellied traffic policemen. It was a typical freeze frame moment, every other vision crowded out and it was only her crossing the street with absolute nonchalance… in slow motion… eastman color. I kept gawking at her (I am sure I would have had my eyes popping out like you see in cartoons) as time crawled down to a micro seconds! Everything about her had a bounce (yeah! go on …  imagine!), the straight cut hair bounced, and so did the pallu (the free end of a saree) and I guess the eyelashes bounced too. The universe was in perfect harmony with the bounce in the gaits of this Bengali belle! But it is when she crossed me that the best part came! She crossed the street and moved into an alley full old Raj era mansions which had probably lost its plot in the ever changing script of time. My gaze involuntarily (I now know what being a zombie means!) followed her and then I knew that the best comes last. My lady was wearing a blouse that left nothing, I repeat, nothing to imagination from behind. A helicopter could have landed where the blouse should have been, and was not! Expensive lingerie in black ran riot with gay abandon on an awfully fair skin, and then she turned the corner…and was lost! I looked around to see if anybody else had caught me gawking at her all this while and the realization struck me cold! In any other part of the country, traffic would have come to a halt, and mobile phone conversations would have stopped until this lady crossed the street, but not in Kolkata. In Kolkata I formed the grand minority of one; I seemed to be the only guy interested in women, no one else even noticed. If Bengali men did not have time to enjoy this, pray tell me what they spend their time on… discussing politics!

Cheers to Bengali belles. Men… grow up! In this era of denim clad tomboys passing off as women, you have no clue what you are missing, living among the saree clad Bengali women!

And Then The Wind Blows...

The life that oozes out in small strips of minutes often gathers courage, braces up, chugs, and starts a soft run home... and then the wind blows. Time heals old wounds and makes ways for new ones to grow... and then the wind blows. In hurried glances, I look at those who chose to stay behind, ensuring that they stay there... and then wind blows. Every time I have a page inked, I turn a new leaf to begin anew, and the wind blows. Every time I keep the beads aside and chose to bury the dead, the wind blows!

Lessons from India

Today, one of my relatives sent me a presentationon Indian Spirituality. The messages are very simple and to the point. They are also universal. Here are the messages:

  1. “Whomsoever you encounter is the right one”
  2. “Whatever happened is the only thing that could have happened”
  3. “Each moment in which something begins is the right moment”
  4. “What is over, is over”
Wonderful and simple. Demystifies so many aspect of my personal life. Hope you folks also find something interesting in these.

The Dark of the Night

You would not have walked with me Had the nights been not so scary And your nightmares All so real for you. I would not have held your hands...