My dear girl,
I don’t know why I’m writing this letter. I’m just 20 years old and am not even sure if you will really come into my life, but I want you to know a few things. the first being that even before you’re physically here, you’re already here, in my mind and heart. The second being, no matter what it may look like at times, I love you really really very much. it may be difficult for you to grasp how much, but it is a love that may never get extinguished. someday, when you too become a mom, you’ll understand what i’m talking about.

Another thing i need you to know is that I’m trying to make this world a better place for you. It is not all that pretty right now, you know. There is so much hatred around and I wouldn’t want you to see it. On the contrary, there isn’t as much love out here as I would like for you. There is bloodshed, and for all the wrong reasons. People are not all that sensible and don’t understand that the so called leaders who’re trying to get them to vote for them because they support a certain religion don’t actually care about them or their religion but are concerned only with the power and money. religion is not a personal matter anymore. it is a political tool. and even worse, it is used like a scalpel to cut open the world. A lot of people don’t respect humanity as it should be respected. they abuse it and call it ‘justice’. I don’t think they even know the word.
Then again, I’m worried that whatever little trees we have now on this planet now will be gone by the time you come along. I want you to know what a forest is and what it is, to walk through the undergrowth and wonder at the marvel of life as i can see it in a forest. I want you to look into the watery eyes of a deer, not in a museum’s stuffed animals collection, but as it peers at you through a grassy foliage. I don’t want you to breath canned air, but rather feel the thrill of dragging in the cool, fresh life and feel the tang of the coast and the ballad of the valley flowers on it. I don’t want you to worry about carcinogenic effects of the UV and roam freely, allowing the golden drops of honey sunshine dance on your skin.
I want this world to be a gift to you; the biggest and best one i can ever give you. but there is a lot of work left, in order to make it perfect. I am working to make it so my dear. I just wish my mom and dad too had thought of it for me. but anyway, now it is my responsibility to try and do as much as i can. I must not waste much time. It is not easy. It is difficult, dirty and hard work. But I will do it all….. Just for you, My Dearest Child…
Love,
Your Mum,

That’s what I am! and I’m stuck!!!  With whom you ask? With the Worst Possible Company…. Boredom…. (I hope you get the point when I say THE Worst)…..
He couldn’t have selected a stickier time to trouble me. And that fat slob knows that. He just loves it when he puts me in a tizzy. Just when everything is going fine, life is returning to normal, and I’ve just waved good bye to The Creative Block as he left my place after over staying his visit, in crashes this lousy idiot. I could rain all the swearwords in my vocabulary of three languages and all the effect it would have on him is an uncontrolled bout of hysterical laughter.
Let me begin with his arrival. I closed the doors after The Creative Block as he finally left after having returned, first for his top hat, then his pocket knife and then his umbrella. I leaned against the closed door, closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, thanking my Lucky Stars for having sent my troubles away. But my Stars winked back mischievously and I so hate it when they do that, because that means there is trouble somewhere. Just when I was trying to ponder on what could go wrong, I heard a crash and rushed to my room to see what it was. I hardly had time to grasp that everything was just as I’d left it a few minutes ago. I felt someone grab me around my neck and climb onto my back like a monkey. I tilted sideways and caught my reflection in the mirror. And sure enough, on my back, grinning stupidly, sat Boredom. He ensures that all my movements slow down. He holds on to my ankles and makes sure that I shlump from room to room with no trace of my usual brisk stride. “You walk too fast” He says, flicking something out of his teeth. Bast… Forget it.. No point cursing him…. It will just amuse him….
And if there is anything that amuses him the most, it is Frustration. Frustration too matches his timing with him really well. Just as I turn from my door, with this lazy blob hanging on to my arm, sure enough, in walks Frustration; Sleek, Groomed and smug as ever. Brilliant! Exactly what I needed when Deadline has been knocking on my door every morning and evening with different notices, and he won’t even take these two unwanted guests of mine as a valid reason for not meeting him. So Yeah, I am in a puddle.
Both these creatures take it in turns to play with me. Boredom first hangs on to each of my appendages every time  I decide to move any of them. Then he makes me watch some stupid movie. Three times. Then he takes a breather and Frustration comes up, ruins my hair, reddens my eyes and starts off an irritating headache. I need hairoil to stop it.
All Boredom does is makes sure that he hangs to my ankles, making it necessary for me to yell for the oil bottle which my sister brings in. Funnily, nobody else sees these two rogues sitting in my room.
I don’t know why, but I start the solitaire game on my pc and that sends Boredom rolling on the floor with laughter. I guess it is a benchmark of his achievement…. me playing solitaire. There are more such benchmarks too… counting the ants on the window sill, making designs on the water condensed on a cold water bottle, writing facebook notes, seeing stupid videos, messaging friends for rescue, yelling ‘I Am Bored!!’ at the walls……

….

…….

……

I HATE HIM!!!!!!!

…. sorry, that was frustration pulling my hair…

see? see what I mean by Worst Company? And over the looks on their faces, they’re gonna make it a point to ensure that I fall into trouble with Deadline….

I guess I’ll have to resign to my fate and stick it out till they finally leave. No sooner do I accept this, than there is a sound in the kitchen. I walk in and my dismay couldn’t have been greater…. There, Peeping into my fridge was that grinning idiot; Insomnia…. !!!!

This is a really extraordinary situation… any of the people who know me really will be slightly astonished at what i’m putting down here…..

around an hour ago, I was reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. As I read the last few pages, where a grown up, married Harry sees his 11-year-old son off to his first year at school, I was gripped by this sudden really deep desire to be a parent myself…. To have a kid of my own; the need to be there for someone of my own flesh and blood; to guide gently, his footsteps so that they avoid the mistakes that I made; to help him figure out right from wrong; to cushion his fall or sometimes, watch him fall and then explain to him as I bandage his knees and wipe his tears, where was it that he went wrong; to see him meandering and to see realization dawn upon him as he gains back his balance; to support him till he is sure that he can carry himself and then stand back and admire with teary eyes as he takes off on his own two legs; to feel a longing, within few moments of his glorious independence, to have him back on my lap, dependent on me, closer to me; to know that he’s now a big boy who won’t need me anymore, but vowing to myself that I’ll be there lest he needs me again, lest he falls and hurts himself and there is no one to help him with his skinned knee and heart; watch him from the shadows as he struggles with life as it swoops down upon him; feel proud of him as he tackles problems and takes decisions; gasp as he stumbles and almost falls and then look on again as a hand other than mine holds him and gets him back on his feet, fingers other than mine wipe his tears and know that there is finally that someone special for him to look after him; and with a dawning realization tearing at my heart realize that he won’t miss me anymore; and slowly, prepare myself to withdraw, to leave the stage where my part in the Play is over and where lingering on will probably an eye sore; and then, just as I’m about to leave, heavy-hearted and red-eyed, feel a hand clutching at my finger and turn around to find my little boy peeking at me through the eyes of this grown up man and find one more pair of gentle eyes looking up at me, along with my son’s, asking my why I was leaving when she had just come; telling me that they both wanted me with them; then feel the warmth of affection wash over me, wave after wave and gently but gladly relinquish my hold on my boy and let him, finally take charge of not just himself, but my life too and rest back in peace; to wonder again about how much like his father he is; and then, be unable to hold back your joy when he presents to me, a tiny replica of himself and look into his happy eyes and know that if death were to come to me now, I would walk with Her gladly, no misgivings, no fears, no tasks incomplete, Life lived to the brink, the happy taste of memories still lingering on my lips….

Wait!!
Hold it right there, I say to you.
Loosen your hand on that scabbard.
Sheath that sword you have drawn.
Vacate the barrels of that gun you hold.
And,
Cleanse your mind and heart
Of the hate you’ve polluted it with.

Now lay down all these corruptions
and look beyond,
at that child playing in the street.
At that youth, with his dreams.
At that mother as she watches
Over her children as they play.
And at that maiden,
Who shines with a requited love.
And at those million men and women,
Who each day live,
In the hope of seeing many such days.
Now look in their eyes,
And you will find,
An ocean of love, of joy,
Of life.

Now again I say,
Lay aside your gun and hate,
For they have made a stone of you.
Cast them away and come to us,
For with open hearts and arms,
We welcome the Lost Sheep,
If only the sheep seeks to return…

A sheen less moon,
weeps silently as she watches
over the red rivers that swallow
the Earth whole
wondering, what went wrong…
How did this happen…

The sun from a distance,
frowns as he watches the plight,
as the last bits of life,
crumble and fall.
He wonders what went wrong…
How did this happen…

The stars try to twinkle
and look in vain towards the earth
to see a speck of it’s former life
but are looked back at, by Death.
And they wonder what went wrong…
How did this happen…

They had all been witnesses,
to how Destruction, had unfurled his wings
and made their Earth burn, hell like.
But yet, now as they join
the funeral procession, they wonder…
What went wrong…
How did this happen…

Well, that is what this entry is….

I need to do something stupid once in a while to keep my brains in
good condition……

You know, you should try that too…… it really helps to give some
rest to your poor brain cells.

no really!! it is like party time for your over worked brain….

it can do whatever it wants,

play music at top notch volume, eat a hell a load of junk, see some
stupid movie and laugh itself silly over it, get totally drunk and
talk bullshit in high spirits, drunk call people and laugh as they go
up the wall, then take a book and try to read it and find that the
words are dancing all over the page, then getting tired of the jumping
letters, go over to the window and wonder at something silly, then
remember some long forgotten day from the golden days of childhood,
remember all the fun it had been and how close it felt to everyone….
no let downs, no backstabbing, no bitching, no heart breaks, just pure
fun and life!!!!, then start questioning where those days have
vanished, then weep drunkenly for those times, then see a balloon
floating around outside the window and giggle at it, and then sit up
with a start when it giggles back and sticks it’s tongue out, then
feel a little thirsty and go for another drink, see three glasses of
vodka on the bar top, try to seize one and it dances out of reach…..
Damn!! try of the other…..Damn it!!! wonder who made these dancing
glasses and curse them…. then try for the third and it comes
readily…. take a thirsty gulp of the much awaited liquid, then hear
a voice coming from the bed room, like a soft cajoling call, go in to
find out who’s gotten in there in the dead of the night, find no one
there but the bed, but the bed seems to be talking, it says it’s been
lonely all day and wants company..’you mind??’, then go and sit with
the bed on the floor and hear it talk about how boring it is to be a
bed, sympathise with it, then tell it how lucky it is it never has to
face life, that it never has to nurse a broken heart or back stabs,
tell it that it has a really nice life, safe and secure, well clothed
with a satin sheet, then it says that it can’t get drunk, so just to
prove it wrong go and get two vodkas, offer one to the bed, it says it
doesn’t have hands, so feed the bed some vodka, feel good about doing
a favor for the poor handless bed who’s never been drunk before, hear
the bed giggle drunkenly, hear it say ‘thank…..u…’ and drift into
a slumber, smile and watch the sleeping bed, cuddle up to the bed as
best as possible, and sing it a lullaby just in case it stirs, and
then watch as someone comes and asks you to sleep on the bed, not
below it, tell them to talk softly, the bed is sleeping, they help you
to get up, bump your head….ouch!! then lay down on the sleeping bed,
slowly, in case you wake it , then feel a soft blanket fall on you,
the blanket wispers…’one hell of a head ache is gonna wish you in
the morning n u gonna need a truck load of coffee….. sleep now….
good night…’, feel the blanket cuddle up to you, feel nice to be
sleeping with the bed and blanket for company…..and sleep it out
till normalcy returns like a sore head ache in the morning………

ah well,

told you…..

something stupid…….

There aren’t too many people who are capable of surprising me. Those who attempt to ’surprise’ me are either more or less predictable or are people who end up shocking instead of surprising me. But there is just one dear person capable of surprising me.  She comes to visit me every once in a while, but her arrival is always so sudden that she doesn’t fail to surprise me. And it had been so long since the last time she visited, that I’d almost stopped thinking of her. It didn’t even cross my mind that she may choose this afternoon to drop by….

I’d been up most of the night and my head hurt….. No, it was not a slumber party, and I didn’t get sloshed and this was not about a hangover and ‘the morning after’. It always gets this way before major project submissions. The thing was that she hadn’t visited me for quite some time and there were too many things chasing around my brain for me to spare her a thought. There I was, leaning back in my chair before the comp, trying to lay my hands on Inspiration as he kept dancing tantalizingly out of reach. Then I thought I heard a movement at the door, so I turned. I was sure someone had been there.

Then a warm feeling started at the top of my head, as if someone had just put a dollop of nice, pleasantly warm oil there. I closed my eyes and felt the corners of my lips lift a little. Then as the warm feeling seeped to my heart, I knew she had come. And sure enough, as I opened my eyes, there she was. Her face is the most pleasant thing anyone can ever come across. Nothing but pure delight etched in every delicate feature of her’s as if nothing made her happier than visiting me. For someone who rarely spoke, it was an eloquent little face. And one welcomingly so. There are so many upset and frowning faces that I see everyday that it is just delightful to see one so obviously happy.

And the way I do every time she comes down, I threw my head back and guwaffed! I allowed all that bubbling energy to surface and I chortled and giggled and chuckled away. It felt so good! Like some great burden was lifting off my shoulders. Like someone had put a bag full of cement in my chest and it was all coming out. Like after a long long time of driving down a dark tunnel, I’d driven into an open country road. It felt great! Huge tears trickled down my cheeks as I held my stomach and cackled, ignoring the stitch in my side and what a spectacle I must be presenting……

She stayed for just a short while, like she always does. Then, pleased with herself, she gave me one last parting smile and quietly drifte out of the room but the warm feeling stayed with me.

My mom hurried into the room with a question mark on her face.

“Why are you laughing so much?”

“Nothing….” I spluttered “Read a funny mail.. that’s all”

The day felt brighter. The breeze was sweeter. The radio played better songs…. Gosh! I felt better!!

That’s how I feel every time she visits, that timid girl…. Laughter…..

Into the bag by my side,
my blood it flows steadily.
On its way to save a soul,
leaving my veins readily.

To my blood as it dances away,
softly I murmur a plea.
“Go now, and prove your worth,
of great use to some one you may be.

Go and rescue some poor soul,
flow in veins other than mine.
When someone has lost faith,
you flow with the hope divine.

Yet as you leave on your mission,
remember to take with you,
all those things i am proud to possess,
Love, Joy, Courage and Sensitivity too.

Fill your new home to the brim,
with a love eternal and pure.
Warm that heart when it gets cold,
make those quaking steps feel secure.

Dance in their heart, unabashed,
with life’s warmth and bliss.
Lift their spirit when they feel low,
in a cold winter, be Spring’s kiss.

Don’t forget, on your long journey,
that you are compelled to teach,
how to love beyond barriers,
how distant hearts to reach.

Go now, and run to the aid
of a soul that needs you the most.
Go and spread my word of love,
before it is forgotten or lost.

Go now, with my eternal love,
I believe in its sacred might.
I know the world lies in hate’s clutches…
Go now, and join the fight…

I didn’t even get to say goodbye to Sam….

It’s the one thought that keeps coming back to me over and over again. It’s been more than two years now….almost three actually, but I just can’t get myself to think about Sam without thinking about how I left for college that morning without realizing that the hurried pat that I gave him before walking away would be the last one I’d ever give. It just didn’t strike me.

Sam was not just any dog. He was my baby. He’d found me. He’d come to me like a blessing from above. He was the one who had banished my mortal fears of canine proximity with just one chocolate eyed, love-filled gaze. He came to me when I was confused, troubled and hurting inside and had no way of sharing with absolutely any other living soul on this planet. It was one of those times that everyone goes through in their teens. I was restless, and pointlessly angry all the time. He became that friend that I had desperately needed. He was the one who’d sit by me through my night hours of last minute studies. He was the one who listened to me patiently when I had to say something. He was the one who sat by my side silently when I was left with nothing to say. He was the one who lay his huge, soft, fluffy head in my lap when I felt lonely and lost. He was the one who gently licked my tears when no one else knew I was crying. He was the one who knew when I was musing thoughts that I shouldn’t and who dragged me out of my low state of mind by pulling and tugging at me till I gave in to his antics and went out for a run with him at my heels. I always found it a little difficult to stand up to people. But it was he who stood by my side when I stood up to this guy my mate was dating. I told him off for having hit her and actually threatened him when my insides were turning to jelly. And all through, Sam stood next to me like a brother and when the guy made a threatening move, the growl that Sam gave would have frozen a better man……

I spent two amazing years with him. Years full of memories that I will cherish all my life. He made me feel special, with all that love he gave me. He never held grudges and forgave so easily that the offender felt guilty. He was protective about me. He loved selflessly and I haven’t met too many people who would fit that description. If there was one successful relationship that I had, Sam was that.

It was in the December of my 12th standard that the decision was taken about us leaving Lonavla to settle in Mumbai.  Where it was a said thing to have a dog in a huge bungalow in Lonavla, it definitely was out of question to have one in the tiny flat we were planing to use in the city. We’d spoken to a family friend to see if he could find a new home for Sam. I remember the lump that had bobbed up my throat when I’d tried to get the words out. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t cry, but yet I did. For hours into the night. Still do…. I knew I was doing the right thing. Sam was a free spirit. It would have been cruel to force him to live in the city with cars and claustrophobic apartments where he couldn’t bark at cows and run to his heart’s content in a large garden. Yet, when I came back that day to discover that he had been taken to his new home, I couldn’t hold back my agony. He was gone. Without a goodbye… But then, this was the right thing… Yes, he had to stay here; this was his home. He’d be miserable anywhere else, that’s a fact. But it  also remains a fact that I was miserable for months without him. Even now when I think of him, I become that confused, angry teenager, unable to fathom why things had to happen they way they did…. and then,  I try to imagine his wet nose against my palm; his way of reassuring me, of telling me everything was gonna be alright….. I just wish I didn’t have to imagine that though…..

I think I must warn people reading my blog. I talk a lot. I mean it.. A LOT! Sometimes it makes sense. Sometimes.

But most of the times, I find myself yearning to express random thoughts that come to me. Funny thoughts, serious ones, sensible ones and totally confused ones too. None of them earth shatering but all of them genuine. There are times when I come across a creative block but most of the time, I can be quiet vociferous.

I hope I can write regularly and I hope people like what I write. Though my thoughts are never too severe, I do have a tendency of becoming polemical at times. At such times,  (and even others) I welcome comments. I am not critical of critics  and would love to know the flip side of the coin whenever I am to partisan.

Having said this, I would now like to declare my blog open!