Unrequited Love

It takes all I have and yet isn't mine, has never been and will never be. It demands that all my senses be devoted to it completely and yet eludes me. It demands my best front but projects my worst front before the others; and with the right to do so. It is my thorn and yet the only one for me; but it is the nectar to many other bees.

Writing definitely is my true but unrequited love. And now the pain of a lover makes sense and isn't too dramatic for real life.

They are fools who think love takes responsibility, commitment and the ability to sustain in the face of reality. Love takes much more than that.
It takes madness! Yes! Madness! Ask someone who truly loves and neither rationalizes nor is afraid of what it takes.

Ask someone who knows no other way but to give his all, whether or not he heals every time he is wounded. Writing, I find no solace in return of your slavery and yet in only your slavery lies my solace...And so goes love..

SAC-RO-SANCT - /ˈsakrōˌsaNG(k)t/ : too important or valued to be interfered with!

"The meeting is Sacrosanct!" "Yes Ma'am! We are extremely sorry." The apologies streamed as if by rote. The word Sacrosanct hung like a heavy lazy cloud on their dazed minds. They filed out of the (sacrosanct!) meeting, that didn't end up happening.

Ah! Lets just scamper back quietly and sink behind the horizon of our computers. Nope? Not yet? Another morally offended face to deal with coming our way? okay...fine... "Yes? Where were you? Guys, this meeting is sacrosanct!" SACROSANCT? Again? OH GOOD HEAVENS! What have we done? Why do we feel like we might have committed some contemporary of demolishing a mosque? SACROSANCT! what a word!
We have disobeyed SACROSANCT. The sound of that word perches atop their neck and weighs them down, until they can look no higher than their toes. It follows them like grim punishment following sin.
"You guys missed the meeting? But this meeting is..." 'Wait for it!' "SACROSANCT! This meeting is Sacrosanct."

Again? By now they are dragging their feet back to their desks, like bulls ploughing a field. Then someone occasionally tightens the yoke and cracks the whip on them - SACROSANCT; and their backs hunch a little further and they scurry a bit faster towards the first available computer, like mice towards their hole.

Three writers sit before GOOGLE and direly pray for their turmoil to be answered. 'What is the meaning of Sacrosanct?' For shame! Guys, commenting on this post is SACROSANCT btw!

Accidental Wisdom

Why are crucial moments of life always signified via slow motion in movies? In the moment, when I was hurled off a scooter, toppling in the air and struggling to reach ground, I knew why.
On the way back from Majorda beach to Palolem beach in Goa, my friend lost balance, while riding at a turning on the highway. The most aware I have been of each passing second in my life, those few moments! And yet in twenty one years, it was the first time I realised love in its true sense. I got up, found my friend alive; then removed the grime from my teeth and hair, and checked for wounds. She got up, found me alive; then came close to passing out. Two other friends jumped off a moving scooter to hold us as we fell.

Our mothers generally bring girls up, conditioning them to not ask men for help;always go to women! Men see women in either a derogatory or lustful manner and could look to take advantage of you. Women always understand other women. That night, 'purple' oblivion was clouding my friend's eyes. Colour drained from our eyes, but she couldn't see them or anything else. A crowd of men instantly rushed to our side to help.Our upbringing taught us to fear them and we asked them to go ahead, lying that we would be able to manage. Would we? We would never know. They wouldn't hear of it, as they took our broken scooter back to our hotel and rushed us to the hospital. Here the nurses took us in to tend to us. Tend to us they did, while mumbling away in Konkani (the local language), their disapproval of our clothes and thereby the values of our generation.
I was reminded of the times when we talk in English before our household help, so s/he doesn't understand. So today we were treated as illiterates!
Finally, we returned to the men, who had been waiting outside to reach us back to our hotel.

Judge all, Trust Few, Love fewer they teach us. That day I learnt to Love all, trust few, Judge fewer!

Cheese

Has anything else
So white
so golden, so pure
been known to seduce
the rats of the town
With it's holes?

Oblations

The Dragon spat mantra after insulted mantra. The fire glowered. One of the pale white beings with bloodshot eyes prodded the Child awake. The Child looked terrified at the Dragon, his eyes pleading forgiveness. Did all dragons braid their mane? Haw! He just thought all paap! Will God punish him?
He reluctantly fed the rice to the fire; then the fruits, the ghee, the milk...oh! How his stomach growled deeply! Was that growl like the lion's in National Park? More ghee into the fire! The fire crackled, content. White Mummy with red eyes stroked the Child's head.
"Mummy, just one banana? Please, no? I am hungry!!!" "Shh! God will get angry. I have made puri-sheera and chana for later." Puri and sheera? GROWL! No! No! God will get angry.
The fire burped. Sparks arose and thick black smoke meandered through the house. The Child choked. His eyes started streaming. He began to get up. White Pappa widens his red eyes angrily and holds the Child down. It is holy smoke.It is supposed to enter you and purify your soul. It is good that you are coughing and your eyes are watering. Your paap is being cleaned. Paap? Like lying to your Mummy Pappa, not obeying them, 'back-answering' them, all the things that make you a bad boy.
Cough cough..have I already..cough cough...done a lot of paap? "Not praying to God or thinking about other things while praying or doing puja.." the Dragon was saying. "Is also paap!" White Mummy says getting up. "Then God won't make everything happen all nice-nice for you." She says entering the room with a plate of puri-sheera and chana.
GROWL! GROWL! GROWL!
"Isn't it Panditji?" Ghost Mummy asks. The Dragon smiles and takes the plate from her. They all nod their head as if they secretly know some joke about the Child. The Child rubs his tearing eyes and watches all of them. Then he watches the plate going on the other side of the fire. The fire roars in evil amusement. Cough cough! Eyes still didn't stop burning. Stomach just growled again. Yawn! Oops! Will God get angry now? But..cough cough.. I am sleepy!!! Haw! I am a bad boy! Now God won't make everything happen all nice-nice for me? Cough cough cough cough!
Water is sprinkled on the child and his thoughts have gone poof! He sees the sacred Dragon taking a big bite of the puri and sheera. His eyes are welling up. Not because of the holy smoke this time, is it? Om Shanti Shanti Shanti!

An(na)Shun!

"So I heard you're in love?" One friend asked me, while I was holding open the pallu of my hypothetical sari, on phone, for him to drop a job into.
Evergreen Hindi Cinema being such a constant source of inspiration in my life, I could hardly resist. "Jab garibi darwaze par dastak deti hai, na? Tab pyaar Khidki se koodkar bahar nikal jaata hai!" I sighed heavily. Not one to be left behind, he shot back " Don't talk to me about garibi! I invented the boodhi maa and vidhwa behen who stitch at home, as I go out to study." I went into peals of laughter.
However, a thought crossed my mind. There is another hard-to-ignore figure starving alongside the boodhi maa and the vidhwa behen. In fact, he could be the saviour of those species in this country. Or so claim the people whose lungs have often threatened to fall out of my television screen in the last few days.
No, I have nothing against him (Apart from the fact that I dare not!). I am aware, in his way, he does more for the country than I do. I know it, as a friend and I sit stirring our coffee and moaning about love, quite oblivious to the candle march right opposite us.
Though, I did notice a candle holding youngster crying out to people to 'honk if you support Anna in his fast', from amidst mouthfuls of chicken frankie. I respect the effort. I bit back an 'Isse kya hoga!' out of sheer respect! After all, we know our nation can change. And its hard to hold a candle in the soon-to-be-September rain!
Scorn me if you dare, for my humour! But this indifference is growing everywhere. It was our reaction to the umpteenth bomb blast in the city. It can be seen meandering through fish markets; where wares are sold and bought despite the black oil meandering through mangroves and the beach. It can be seen gurgling around status updates singing praises of the cholera imparting Mohammed Ali Rd. savouries. Its been submerging the timeless candle marches, fasts and protests of the nation.
Although, I can never deny that Hope did come out of Pandora's box too!
In fact a friend of mine (who I am very proud of by the way) actually calls up to report the service she renders to the nation daily, at grass root level in the villages. And I do hang my head in shame as I feel the cynical indifference silently creeping up on me, and then lament to her about how long I haven't seen the love of my life in! Phew!
Be not discouraged by the likes of me, reformers! May success tire of eluding you people, who have better souls than me!

But I believe I can fly!

Mummy, Daddy, Son and Daughter at Delhi airport, waiting for their dreamt of and envied flight to Leh. How do you know its Delhi airport? The daughter heard giggly, shrill, Haryanvi accented girl voices go "Nazron se kha jaayenge!" Then the men at the airport, age no bar, elaborate on the meaning of the phrase!
From then on, everything that happens strange, could only happen because it is Delhi airport! That includes too much saffron in the otherwise tasteless biryani and women blabbering away on their phones for hours, inside the loo, while others are hopping in helplessness outside it. Leh! Aur Leh! Yeh Bhi Leh!

What then should happen if, God seriously forbid, they miss their flight? Let's add to that a rude, prissy hostess, open to quarrel, telling them that by no means will she let them in. Swad bigda aur mirchi bhi lagi?!
All hell breaks loose! Mummy thinks Daddy didn't listen to her and sat miles away from check-in. Daddy thinks Mummy took hours in the loo. Son thinks nobody understands a thing. If they had to listen to him, they would be in that flight. However, he does support his Mummy fiercely against his tyrant Daddy, (only until she hasn't begun with how its his fault too!) because Daddy always does this to his Mummy and the whole family! The daughter, who some time back slept with a gaping open mouth, dare not open her mouth now.

Daddy is a stubborn tyrant, who thinks he is right no matter what! Mummy can't let go of things and cope with crisis like a mature person! The son is angry at everyone and will actively participate in whatever or whoever is being bickered about! The daughter thinks to herself, 'once I open my mouth, everyone will shut up', being the apparently wise and most grown up there; in spite of being the youngest!
This always happens! You always do this! That hostess be cursed! Lord, they just won't stop! Finally the daughter bursts forth "This is not happening because of anyone or anything. Its happening because we cannot be together as a family anymore! At least when we are at home we can go away from this and come back to deal with it. We aren't stuck together like sardines in a can. But, not one more family trip, I promise you that!"

Grave silence! She was right. When she would open her mouth, everyone would shut up. It doesn't feel the same, though. Their crestfallen faces tell her that their raging battlefield just became a grim expanse of strewn corpses. She just told them that Santa Claus doesn't exist!
The father silently leaves to fight for his family, alone! The mother silently drowns herself in her prayer books, alone! The son keeps a hand on the mother's shoulder, trying to console her, or himself, alone! The daughter? Well, she just deserves to be alone!

The next few minutes drag their feet past, while the family prays for a miracle to cause a turn of events. Suddenly, Daddy comes with a smile that nearly eats into the rest of his face. They have got into this lucky lot of people that got issued free tickets on the next flight. Relief!
They walk to check-in, smiling. Each looks at the faces of the other three with silent contentment. 'This happiness on the face of my family? This is due to the miracle that I prayed for! Of course, I would do a lot more for them.'

The flight is cancelled for today. Damn you, fate at Delhi airport! Delhi smirks wickedly. It claimed Abhishek Bachhan from the dead in 'Delhi 6'; this flight is nothing! 'Kaun jaaye ae Zauq, Dilli ki galiyan chhod kar?'
Oh, how they hate Delhi and kingfisher flights, together!