Junkyard..

In some half-forgotten room,

in a neglected corner of my mind,

Hidden behind locked doors,

I hoard all of us that's left behind.

With intoxication as a guide,

often a way there a find,

to see everything getting engulfed,

slowly by the sands of time.

I sift through all that junk,

Knowing all that's you is unnecessary,

Begin discarding those knick-knacks,

slowed by the cobwebs of memory.

Filling the vacated spaces with loneliness,

I toil away in vain,

Even if I were to find every bit of me,

I'll never be whole again.

Name..Place.Animals..Things

This story doesn't need my name, although, you may want to know a bit about me. Obviously, you would need that to form a judgement of me. We may not be in a position to judge ourselves, our thoughts, our actions, our sentiments but when it comes to judging others, that is something we all excel at. So, following the rules of the society that I need to live in, I'll play along. I am male, 36, unmarried, 6 figure monthly salary, 5'9", above average looks, smoker, insomniac, consume alcohol daily but not an alcoholic.

This story has traversed through a number of places and it will travel still further. Suffice it is for you to know that right now I am in the bedroom of my apartment, seated on a recliner positioned along the wall across my bed.It is 3 am.Yes, I am smoking. No, I am not alone.

She is sleeping. She, is obviously a female, 34, a writer, 5'6", non-smoker, non-drinker, to me she looks as beautiful as anybody can look.She sleeps like a log. We have been together for 13 years now. No, we were never married. I never saw the need for it. I felt I had all that I wanted because we have been there for each other.

I met her in 2000. A party, at a mutual friend's place. Her date was stoned to oblivion. I offered to drop her home as a courtesy to the host.To make up for the fact that I had puked all over his washroom's floor the last time I was at his place.I hold my drink much better now. I told her, "Don't worry. I'll drop you home". She reluctantly agreed.

It was an uneventful drive. We kept quiet mostly.

I dropped her at her place, only to get back and see that the rear tyre was punctured. I did not know how to change the tyre. I went back to her place to make a call to the towing service. She was surprised to see me back. I explained. She made the call. The towing truck would take a couple of hours. I walked back to the car to wait.Put on some Opera music and reclined the seat. 2 minutes later, she knocked the window asking if I needed company. I said I wouldn't mind. She hopped in, asked me if I liked Pavarotti. I said yes. She said, let's go back to my place,I have a huge collection. She let me in.

We got talking and we never stopped. We were like animals from a herd. We loved the same things, hated the same things, feared the same things. 6 months later, I moved in.

We still joke sometimes that we are together because of a stoned ex, a punctured tyre and my lack of know-how of fixing it.

The only issue, we ever had any disagreements over, was marriage. Although, the disagreement was of a more intellectual rather than personal nature.I saw it as the social equivalent of prison system; she begged to differ. We agreed to disagree. 3 years later, our little pact was declared null and void unilaterally, by her. She asked me to move out. We still went on seeing each other. In hindsight, she was right. I do feel unmoored and lost sometimes.

It is these hours that I miss her the most, when I have her with me and all I can do is see her. I feel as if we are wasting time. I want more of her. Again, the animal thing. Greed. Although, we carefully avoid expressing how much we need each other.

She is stirring. It is 5 am. She has an internal body clock that amazes me. I light another cigarette and close my eyes. Wait. Her phone starts ringing. I get up to hand it over to her. She is up before me, switches on the bedside lamp, grabs the phone and answers,"No, I was up. See you soon.".

It's her husband. Back from his weekly business trip. The only thing I envy him, is the fact that in his relationship, he feels that she is waiting for him. With me and her, it is usually me.

But we need each other as much. Or else we would not be where we are now; where we are every week.

She gets up and starts stuffing her belongings in a bag. She is still on phone which probably means he is talking gibberish about his business trip. I don't get up to help. I don't want her to leave. She looks at me resignedly.

All of us are animals. There are things we need, that are uncompromisable, food, companionship, security. We need a shelter. We need each other.

She finally disconnects. Both from the call and from us. Hurriedly, she smiles at me,grabs her bag and begins to leave. I tell her, "Don't worry. I'll drop you home"

Numbers

Through three different cities,

Three years of knowing each other,

Thrice he asked her,

& then never went any further.

Two similar people,

Making two choices separate,

Creating two different destinies,

& moving on when time didn't wait.

With a one-way ticket,

To a one-street town,

One left alone leaving behind,

A love the other never found.

Zeroing in on the other,

Was just another zero-sum game,

Strangers to acquaintances to friends,

to acquaintances now turned strangers again.

Stand-up for Love

She was like IIPM's rankings,

Too good to be true,

But like aunties are to K-serials,

to her I was addicted too.

I tried hiding my sentiments.

like netas in swiss bank stash their loot,

But all my feelings lay exposed,

Like Poonam Pandey on any photoshoot.

Akin to a Tatkal booking on IRCTC,

I was giving up without a fight,

But she kept appearing in my head,

like pop-ups on an adult website.

I approached but became like Manmohan,

whenever around any TV cam,

She acted like Kryponite,

whenever I felt like Superman.

I still gave my best shot,

But could never get a hang of her,

It was as hopeless as commenting in English,

is for any Pakistani ex-cricketer.

She stayed a Bermuda Triangle,

A mystery I couldn't decipher,

Together we were just complex,

She real to me, I imaginary to her.

The Stand..

From the pedestals of morality,
willing to take a fall,
Hesitantly, we walk together,
away from them all.

From the charades of life,
A moment of truth we'll steal,
No need for secrets,
Shrouded we are,in anonymity's veil.

We try forgetting the future,
escaping away from the past,
Let's share this moment,
and try to make it last.

Gasps of air for another,
before diving again into indifference,
Trying to race against time,
to live a life in moments.

And dawn makes us strangers,
neither lovers nor friends,
What we had begun,
with the night had to end.

Curious Kid and Unattainable Awesomeness

The first time he saw her, let's call her Unattainable Awesomeness, was on a computer screen while surfing Facebook on his office's secured internet connection with his boss's access code .He was supposed to be verifying a 1000 line SQL code but that's another matter.

If you are thinking that he had the mentality of one of those desperate teens who treat social networking sites for voyeuristic pleasures, you are wrong. Well, not completely. He was simply 'Single and unable to mingle'. But after all, social networking sites are for networking and it wasn't as if she was in the friend list of a mutual friend's mutual friend. If you really want to blame someone, blame the Facebook coders, they suggested her name in 'People You Might Know'. He didn't know her but curiosity isn't a crime. Isn't that what institutions of higher learning aim to encourage? Let's just refer to him as the Curious Kid (everybody likes to feel young).

Curious Kid looks forward to seeing Unattainable Awesomeness in the near future (okay, you are gravitating towards calling him desperate, I don't blame you). However, a curious thing had been happening  with Curious Kid; with the feline-shaped halo resting on his head, suddenly women started having similar sentiments for him that Rickshaw-walas have for Mithun Da, reverence and admiration. Shocked and stupefied, Curious Kid asks out the first woman that gives him any hopes of romantic bliss; that they are as incompatible as Leander Paes and Mahesh Bhupati is a late realization and the relation has the same  longevity as Chinese-made products is beside the point but we are digressing; the story is about Curious Kid and Unattainable Awesomeness after all.

In the midst of this tumultuous phase, Curious Kids lands at the institution of higher learning. The first time he sees the living, breathing Unattainable Awesomeness, is when she is accompanied by an elderly lady, probably her mother, who could have intimidated even Shahrukh Khan if he laid an eye on her ward. Curious Kid, though desperate to strike a conversation decides to keep his distance for the time being; in his head, he categorizes it as the 'Playing Hard to Get' strategy.

Although this strategy was supposed to be short-term, for various unmentionable reasons (e.g lack of having balls) this becomes a mid-term strategy. In the meantime, Unattainable Awesomeness becomes, well, Unattainable Awesomeness for the majority. Curious Kid decides he needs to make a move sooner or later and then one fine day he decides to initiate conversation.

There weren't any violins, breeze or falling leaves as she approached him, rather he felt the way a tailender does when Shoaib Akhtar is about to bowl a 100 mph bouncer from a 40 yard run-up. He did, what he had to do, he ducked (categorized under the strategy 'Live to Fight another Day'). Repeated attempts led to similar results: a temporary bouts of laryngitis with immediate recovery until the next time. Until one day, Curious Kid realized he had the panacea all along, madira and mobile. With immense gratitude to His Holiness Vijay Mallya and the Zoozoos, he conquered his fears (FO Mountain Dew!) and thus began his dalliance with destiny. However, Unattainable Awesomeness had generated the same amount of interest as Facebook's potential IPO on Wall Street had and Curious Kid had to fight for his place like a first timer in a Mumbai Local train. With numerous hedge funds vying for the limited public shares, it was time for the strategy to reevaluated.

Curious Kid decides to retreat (categorized as 'Cut Your Losses) and focuses on other important aspects of life (e.g drinking, partying, more drinking). Unattainable Awesomeness heads her own way. They bump into each other once in a while and have occasional conversations.

5 years down the line, Curious Kid is still curious about Unattainable Awesomeness. What was she like? What did she like? What made her laugh? What used to upset her? What did she want to be? And that wishful thinking that perhaps sometimes she feels the same.

Words

23 years. Barring the weekends, I everyday have taken the 8.10 am local to work. Wave a quick goodbye to my wife who drops me at the station, rush to platform 3 and wait. Then find a way through the hordes, somehow board the train, quickly run to the corner seat and take out a newspaper and read for the next hour till reaching my destination.

It was another similar day. Waved my wife goodbye, ran to platform 3 and waited. The train came, I plunged into the mass rushing into it and moved towards my corner seat only to find it taken. I grumbled aloud, started looking for another seat and finally found one near the door. Still indignant over being displaced, I kept glaring at the usurper as I fiddled through my bag to locate the newspaper. As I took it out and turned my furious eyes towards it, the front page boldly proclaimed yesterday's date and I despairingly realized that I had forgotten picking up today's paper. Cursing aloud, blaming myself and the world in general  for making the day horrendous, I began pondering my options for occupying my mind for the next hour and as the train stopped at one of the stations, I accepted grudgingly that I had to contend myself with scanning the faces around me.

It was then that she caught my eye. Not that her appearance was an anomaly in either extremes or that she tried to attract any attention. Dressed in fading and over-sized ragged clothes with a bundle in her hands, she was barely able to get on the train as it sped away from the platform. The people standing near the door yelled angrily at her, mouthing obscenities and she fearfully ducked away from them and settled down on the floor between the doors on either sides. She peeked into her bundle and continued to smile beatifically looking at its contents till she was accidentally shoved by one of the standing passengers. It seemed to have disturbed her from a reverie for she was startled and then stormily stood up and started screaming loudly at the guilty passenger.

Despite myself, curiosity got the better of me and I leaned over to see what was in the bundle and was surprised to find an infant wrapped in it. Perhaps noticing an alien set of eyes on it, the child started screaming out its lungs and I started fearing a rebuke from the woman but despite its loud cries, the woman seemed oblivious to the child and had her attentions focused on the now-irate passenger.

I drew back quickly and paid attention to the woman's screaming only to realize that she was uttering incomprehensible noises and was perhaps mute. The passenger seems to have noticed the crying infant for he pointed towards it and as soon as the woman looked back and saw the child crying, she quickly bent down and picked it up and started cajoling it with incomprehensible sounds. The child quickly grew silent, as if it could completely understand its deaf-mute mother's unique language.

All I could do for the remainder of the journey was to watch that woman who without a spoken word from either side was engaged in an extremely coherent conversation with the infant and for the first time in years I felt something stir my soul.

As I got off the train, I realized that everyday, in that sea of humanity, I had become less and less humane; losing my innocence, optimism and empathy, bit by bit as I withdrew more and more into myself. My thoughts kept returning to the woman, who would never be able to say anything or listen to what the child would say for a lifetime. I could only wonder at the lot of us who do have the ability for both, but in our ego, fear, anger, arrogance, leave so many things unsaid and refuse to listen to as much. I could only think of all the people who I had stopped communicating with over the years. I could only feel guilty about the fact that I had nothing to say to my wife of 20 years apart from waving a simple goodbye.

It was ironical and poetic that it took an encounter with a woman who could not speak or listen. for me to realize that we fail to recognize the gifts that we have been bestowed with. A kind word, an expected response, an encouraging sentence, an expressed emotion could make someone's day, perhaps even someone's life better.