Ground Control to Major Tom

I heard a song today. It was called Space Oddity by David Bowie with a girl's voice that came in between as well.
She soothed me as the Bourbon flowed through my veins. It talked of a man going to space and drifting away into space sitting in a tin can.
The feeling resonates with me, the one to drift away into space and be away from all this animosity, this hatred, this jealousness and this constant nagging. The time has come yet again, to shed my skin, forget all those who mattered who I thought mattered and step in through the door. This room was too old now, the walls were worn out, the carpet was dirty, the bed was creaking now. As the sun came in through the window and made the dust dance as if snow was falling in space. The third glass of bourbon was on its way now, the stubble had to go. Patience has become my virtue, I have controlled my loss but that glimmer of hope is on its way yet again. I wish nothing of it, this solitude is just fine. Keep away ye scurvy sea dogs, I go down with this sinking ship and arise yet again from the ashes. I had read somewhere that my birth month was that of the phoenix. I for some reason believe in it, many a time I have been through these maladies but I have always recovered. I shall do it once more.

The rest now lie in the feet for me to run, run as if there was a green football field with blue skies and a stream running beside it.

The Son of Humanity

His pyjamas dragged on the dirt as he walked past the thousands with his mother.

Holding onto her finger, his face stared at the ground that passed beneath his feet, kicking the odd stone, skipping over a lonesome hole and letting his eyes follow the lone plastic bag that swayed in the air. He did not know where it might be tomorrow and what was it doing yesterday but he hoped that it had once been the proud possession of a kind hearted man. Today it was alone, ignored, defeated but hopeful. As he lifted his head towards the skies, he saw the crows hover up above and as they glided past each other, they slowed down and perched themselves upon on a minaret. This was the minaret of the Nawab Masjid, a mosque in the heart of the Muslim colony of Bhendi Bazar. He looked at the hand that was holding his and the aroma of rose that came from it, the sleeve of her burqa was a dark shade of pink, matching the colour on her nails. In the 6 years of his life, he had never seen the colour on those nails change nor even fade. Maybe she was born with such nails, maybe he might grow up to have them too.

The ground beneath his feet turned into hard cemented steps, he felt his knees bend as he ascended into the great hall that shielded him from the scorching sun. He took his free hand and felt the wall next to him, the slippery dust caught on as he felt the coolness spread over his palm. There was an air of familiarity here, the ground was now in the form of patterns, traversing from beneath his feet and over his eyes, under his arms and into the far reaches of the ceiling above him which was in the shape of a large dome. He felt as if he was in the presence of something high and mighty.He had felt a similar feeling someplace else. The carpet below his feet pricked his feet as he walked on it, he had the option of coming on to the floor but it was too cold. He lifted his foot and looked beneath it to see red marks poked in like holes. Like small craters they flourished over his bare white skin. She told him to kneel down and start praying. As he closed his eyes and knelt down, he remembered the day before.

Echoes of bells ringed through his ears, the smell of incense sticks flooded his nose, there was crowd, there was clutter and all he could see in the darkness was a man's hand reaching out to his and clutching it tightly. His neatly combed hair was now a ruffle, the red tilak on his forehead was a smudge. He was shouting out in despair for a while now but none paid heed to him. Finally, a face appeared from the darkness and with both arms, lifted him up from the darkness and out in the open. A fish out of water he felt like, the brightness blinded him for a bit but he was relieved to be out there. If he was the fish then what lay in front him was the sea, a sea of hundreds clad in white and red, slowly trudging through the corridors of this shrine. The sign above him read 'Santoshi Mata Mandir' and his feet were hurting just as they are today. He looked at the hands holding him, firm hands they were, hairy with a shade of salt and pepper on them. He felt the number of rings on them and counted up to a total of 4. Two of them had stones on them and the other two were gold. The rings were as cold as the floor of the temple. He looked up at the face and it was one that he had always been a little scared of. The bristles of his moustache stood like sentinels and his eyes stared straight ahead as if they were hunting for food. Between his eyes was the tilak brandished right up to his hair. He stared at the tilak for quite some time, till he was shaken from his thoughts back into the masjid.

He was back home now, surrounded by those who loved him and those who defined him. The lady with the pink nails and the man with the red tilak stared at him as he stared back at them. His eyes were moist with tears as he wailed to the two about his day at school. Children picked on him for being an outcast, even the teachers weren't very nice to him either. This was not the first time this was happening, it had been going on for the past few months ever since he started going to school. The man and woman did not know who to blame, was it themselves, was it the community or was it the crazy mania that had surrounded this country. They did not wait to think over this, they could not change it. They decided that till the time was right, they would be his teachers. He would learn of the world, what lies beyond the boundaries of this land and make sure that he gets to visit those lands one day. He will learn to love one day and be loved as well.

For he was not the son of a Hindu or a Muslim, he was the son of humanity.

Springtime Sadness

Killing time. That is all I have been doing ever since I landed here. I wait for the lunch hour, the dinner hour, I make my own breakfast, I visit shops, I jog, I wander, I dream of running away from here. It’s strange, I always considered myself as one who could live in solitary confinement for as long as I wished but as of now, the feeling is excruciating. During my days of academic preparation, I lay in the same state except there was an objective at hand, something had to be done and more importantly, I was not compromised. The heart, lay still, unfazed, unused, unadulterated. The rush of hormones within my body has started once again. Something that I longed to feel for 8 long years post my mental rollercoaster of a girl issue. It is the imagination that is to blame over here. I have gone beyond the roof of this house, swam into the skies, passed over the grassy plains, the deserted villages, the haunting warehouses, the winding roads, the forested hills and right on top of the snow covered mountains. Like a helpless ghost I stand there, looking at the world. A resemblance can be made to Ebenezer Scrooge who watches the Cratchit family eat in joy while I stand and sulk in silence. It is my forte, to sulk. I choose to ignore such things and focus on the task at hand but even the silence tends to kill me. Forgotten, forsaken, not one ring has come onto my phone. I don’t mind the silence, I will soon get over it but what happens when it does ring again? A glimmer of hope rises once more, I feel loved, appreciated, accepted till it has gone once again into the oblivion. It is better to go off the radar, begone but what if there is an emergency and I need to be contacted? Who are you kidding? Nobody is going to be in an emergency and nobody is going to call you. I don’t say that I’d rather be somewhere else but is it wrong of me to feel this sense of loss? I had felt the same when I had missed out on my US trip but technology was a friend of mine, it had refused to evolve till then. I had no clue what was up over there while my Mom had the time of her life and thankfully, I had my girl by my side to console me. Best days of my life, best.

Karma has a way of telling me that I shall be rewarded from what I am doing but Karma is no well-defined rule. But wait, I’m being selfish again, I know that its wrong. I must move on. But then do me a favour, don’t tell me anything. Don’t tell me about the fun, the frolic, the beer, the games, the what ifs and the what not ifs because my mind runs crazy imagining the walls, the fragrance, the laughter, the slaughter. I’m glad nobody will read this. They might lose whatever respect they have for me. Sometimes, its better to just stay unnoticed, but keep it like that, my solitude is my friend and nobody can take it away from me, nobody.

The Male in Minority

I haven’t felt more threatened ever before. The gay man with the whip and all his maidens surrounding me. I think i have reached a tea party where everyone is dressed up in pink, drinking tea and asking each other if they would like one cube of sugar or two. There is this desire to run, to chase, to be in the company of the silence venturing into the oblivion. Maybe I am a social animal, one who can’t be with everyone. The feminism present in this room can be cut with a knife. I think I’m suffocating in it. They seem to be standing in a military position, ready to strike on the first instruction. This nightmare will end, later than sooner though. Giggles all around, compliments, whispers in the air, flowing locks, gold earrings flashing in my eyes. My hands are cold even though I sit in this room. I think its the effect of the stares, the slow fall of the smile after the crane of the neck, there is no friend here, there is no comrade, only the end will be me running my fingernails down my keyboard. There were a few sane ones at first, while the others had all gone stark raving mad, but now they all seem to have gone on to the dark side. There are some like me who feel the same, but they lie quiet, zombified, mute to what was happening around them. It is only a matter of time before their balls drop and I see them wearing lipstick and putting on their maskara. I can see the horns coming out from the back of their heads. I don’t think I will be able to see the sun today. The darkness would have settled over by then. All I can do is run, far and straight, away from this madness, away from this madness.

Sheepa

I looked out at her among the millions of faces I had seen in the crowds.

This is how each story began. I saw her smile from a distance and wondered how such a person could have been created who could capture your heart with one smile flex in her muscles. There was an air about her, she had looked into my eyes the first time I saw her and I knew that such a life did not exist on this planet that could reciprocate the attention that I had just received from her. It felt like that it was my birthday and I was being asked to stand in front of a candle and blow out the last one. You are always asked to wish over the last one but you never know what you are going to wish for. You wish for a house, a rich life, a kind and loving wife but all this you tend to get or well at least 'assume' to get. However, when I stared into her eyes, I did not wish to change anything that had happened in the past not predict anything for the future. There was just now and all I wanted was to be with her, now and forever. I was never a confident talker and I still am not. Girls would rather choose the bad and more notorious guys rather than the good ones who always look out for you. That's the the way the world goes. You might be the most kindest of persons and be called the nicest guy in the world but under the dark lights and the influence of the one odd drink, you will be pushed and shoved to the corner where parasites will come and cover your body to suck out all the love that you possess within your heart. Beware of this syndrome I tell you now for you can't be the one standing next to a pillar staring at the life that you could have had instead of realizing that the best thing to do at this point in time was to move on. Sometimes it hurts, there is a drop in the atmospheric pressure when you think of the consequences as if you are sitting on a swing and each oscillation makes your stomach take a turn. Don't worry about them, they will soon subside and you will realize that true happiness lies within yourself. But before I am to make conclusions based upon my opinions, I come back to her. She was not a face in the crowd anymore, her eyes had come across mine several times and we had conversed several times through our thoughts.

I was not a person who would begin a conversation as I stood in the dark, waiting for the right song to come and move my hips to it. I would want a calm and serene surrounding where I could let my mind be my controller and initiate a conversation that made more sense than senseless drunken talk. There seemed to be a lot more that we shared apart from the contact that we had made among out eyes. That night, there was nothing much that I could have done as I was just another face who had sprung up from the sea of unknowns but for some reason, there was something about me that had stuck to be on her mind. I was not to know what it was as I had never wished to know about it but soon after, I was in her presence yet again. I look at her hair as the wind blew it slightly across her shoulder and settled it behind. I looked into her eyes again and I saw the same look that had attracted my attention in the first place. I was struck, there was no feeling that could have described this in a better way for it was moment that had lasted for less than a moment but could have been described in umpteenth number of ways. The feeling had lasted as short as the time it takes for a moth to drive into a driving fan and be knocked out of wits, it was pure magic. I had asked her what was it that had made her eyes widen and her smile broaden but she would not tell me. She would rather blush and keep her secret to herself. I would never know the answer but I would hope that I had something to do with it.

Months had passed and we had exchanged our glances far too often. There had been crazy encounters and incidents that could be put down in books to be the least most exciting but there was nothing more that could have been brought of this. As she peeked through the leaves of the plant that grew at her balcony, she had a question in her eyes. There stood a dilemma that had not existed initially but now had sprung up owing to our association. I did not care much about the what and the where as I was always about the here and the now but owing to the world, there needed to be an answer. Somewhere far away, a volcano was on teh brink of erupting but had chosen to take its vow of silence owing to the state that I was in. I chose to stay quiet, I did not know an answer and I had hoped that she would one day come up to me and say that "It was ok" but that was what fairy tales were made of. Fairies did not exist and nor did their tales.

Her eyes had done the trick once again, taken me into a world that I had imagined and admired but at the same time, disconnected from the reality that I swam through. I was only a novice who had just realized the importance of being a schmuck but I was too naive to take up the responsibility. I wanted to stay in the depth of her eyes, swim in them, touch each point and dive deep into the trenches to know what lay beyond my understanding. But before I knew it, I was back in the shallow waters, for it was where I belonged, owing to my ideologies and inhibitions.

She moved on, she buried the hatched and along with it, me. I was nothing more than a mark on the dirt next to the road. I was the stick that one would see on the way as they sped on the highway and come back to the reality of the speedometer. I was a roll down the window and soon a breath of fresh air. I could have swum in those eyes forever, I could have stared at them till the meteor struck our planet but I was six feet under. This is where I belonged, I was an element, a piece of dirt and all that kept me from becoming one with earth was you.

Forgive me for my ignorance.

Ass-u-me

8pm, flight from Mumbai to Kolkata. The take off has just taken place and we are hovering in the sky like a feeble bird trying to stay stable in a gale. Things seem to be shaking from time to time and as for the fear of death, it's not there anymore. If
It must happen it must, there is no stopping it unless put onto the spot. All of a sudden, a crackle comes across the speakers as the captain says "we have a guest on board" and then pauses. I thought there is some celebrity who would like to entertain us on the momentous occasion of Eid, I could only imagine a film star popping out of his seat, dancing on a number or two, kissing babies on their forehead and giving autographs on ladies' breasts. But before I could carry my imagination any further, the captain let's out the rest of his dialogue "who is in need of medical assistance, is there anyone on board with medical background ?".

My pupils dilated as if somebody had used them as a trampoline, from being wide and full, they shrunk to the size of a full stop. I heard the rest of the passengers on the plane crane their neck over their seats to see what the drama was all about. They were probably missing their favorite serial on the flight so this story might be one for the kitty parties and the poker nights. At the back of the plane was an air hostess who seemed to have lost consciousness and was being carried by her colleagues. She had been made to lie down while they looked at us with desperation, but not a soul moved, all could been seen were their eyes looking back at them, anticipating, expecting but not delivering. But then I saw a man with grey hair get up from his seat with an air of confidence, I could notice the outline of his stethoscope in the pocket of his jacket and this was his moment to shine.

He had been sitting in his dilapidated clinic in the gutters of the city, tending to pregnant teenagers and children faking their sickness to skip school. The money was measly, the hours were boring and life seemed to be just treading downhill with each passing day. But now, was not the time for making ends meet, he had been called for and he would serve. He started walking towards the air hostess and noticing him she went up to him with an air of anticipation in her eyes as she asked "are you the doctor ?", the man nodded his head and said something that sounded like "Can I see the patient ?" The look on her eyes changed drastically to that of disappointment as she asked him to sit down on his seat. What had happened ? Was he a veterinarian ? Was his breath too stinky ? Apparently it was neither, the question that he had asked was "can I use the toilet ?" So much for his moment to shine and serve. The old fart wanted to go for a tinkle while somebody was probably boarding the stairway to heaven.

It was one thing embracing death in times of peril but would I let somebody else die while I continue living ? I was no doctor nor a medical practitioner, hell my mother told me I was not man enough to study biology. But there seemed to be nobody to help and the only thing I was good at was being a hero. But what was I going to do ? Hold their hand and tell them it was ok ? I had no answer but the situation at hand seemed to have improved. Someone had shown up and tended to the lady, things were under control. This plane was not going to be hearse after all. I heaved a sigh of relief as I got up from my seat, went towards the seat where the hostess was lying, passed her by and opened to door to the toilet. Order had now been restored.

Risk

It's about not looking back twice.

Bringing the best of options to your head won't make any difference because every time you think it out, there will always be a different way out, a safer way out.

But that's not how things are meant to be.
A time comes in one's life (don't say it doesn't for you, because then you're just a wuss) when a choice has to be made:
1. Get busy living and then get busy dying.
2. Stop worrying about living and dying.
3. Live today, when dying comes, we will think about it.

Option 1
It's the fear of winding up on the streets, living in old beaten up houses and driving a two wheeler to office is the fear that envelopes us in this invisible straight-jacket of security and peace that denies us the possibility of exploring. Well, yes your wife and children will be able to buy their favorite clothes during the holiday season and you will retire as a grandfather with 2 properties to your name and be able to watch the latest soap operas on your new 42 inch television.

Option 2
You see, this whole business of life and death is bullshit, its all about karma and how your actions make up for your consequences. You sit in rooms smelling of smoke and mould and worry about the corruption of man and how he has created an infinite black hole of evil deeds from which there is no escaping. People worry about God instead and where he keeps his sack of gold to shower on his subjects. Money is no object, we are free souls brought to this Earth for one sole purpose, to spread love and happiness. We are living in a mechanical society where we are controlled by individuals and it is our job to break free from these shackles. One would love to live this theory, just because its well, simple.

Option 3
Risk. Its all about taking that leap of faith between your reality and your conviction. Not all who take the leap make it, you may lose your job, you may end up being divorced, fat, living off your parents, writing stories that no one wants to listen. But you may not. Its as simple as asking out a girl. You know you want her, you don't know what she wants but you will never know till you ask her. You may do your stupid little research and survey about what others think about the proposition, you may even give her hints and what not but until and unless you make that move, you will never ever know. And before you know it, she's gone. And then you have a drunken tale to tell about 'The one that got away'. Grow up. Take that chance and you just might have the best story to tell in your life (I'd suggest not to go for long distance).
Just ask yourself : "Whats the worst that could happen ?"

So at the end of the day, the only piece of advice is - GO FOR A RUN

Run today while you have the legs because tomorrow, you will run out of them.