Lovers on the grass

They lie on the grass, carefree. Carefree in a very worldly way. She has her bunch of papers open in front of her, he has his thick fat book. Their own little study nook. A corner of the University quad. A stolen hour in between rushing for class. A skipped lunch. In exchange for silence. Just an easy hour of pouring through work, fingers entwined sometimes, feet nudging each others' sometimes. A shared sip of water and a shared glance.

Lovers, they lie on the grass. Each immersed in their own love story. 

Doubts and tears

She woke up with a start. Last night came rushing back. It wasn't like her.. these weird sleep cycles. This erratic, unexplainable wave of affections she slept with and woke up with. It wasn't like her anymore.

She couldn't believe she was back there. Where she ended the night in doubts and woke up to tears. She couldn't believe that she had left the smiles that her life had brought with her behind.

End of the era of selfishness

In so many ways you show me what I mean

In so many ways, you show me my place.

It just makes it easier for me..

Easier to understand that you are not the man for me.

You are so not worth it. 

Alone..

She sets the table. Puts out the soup, toasts the bread, heats the mushrooms. Absentmindedly she picks up the red handled spoons from the holder and lays them next to the mismatched plates. The microwave pings and the oven buzzes. Both the mushrooms and the bread are done. She sets it out on the small kitchen table and pauses. Picks up one of the plates, serves, steps to the sink and eats. Standing there.

When you start living alone, you train yourself to get used to eating by the sink too. Standing.

The spoils of a conquest

A pure white hair-band lying on the floor. In front of the drawn curtains.

The roller chair, abandoned between the room.

Flowers knocked over from the glass vase. The vase, amazingly, unbroken.

The laptop lying on its side with its charging cord dangling from the side.

The book, the page you were reading preserved so preciously till now, on its face on the floor near the bed.

The Ipod speakers blaring an instrumental track you normally always skipped over.

Pillows on the floor and the bedspread crumpled. Bruises on your legs, your calves and your neck.

Going to Imaginary Places..

Swinging into the sea..

In my dreams I found that place. That one place I have always wanted to go to. And it felt so real.

I know exactly how far away it is, the exact way to it, the exact bend of the road, the foliage at the sides of the road, the decrepit building which stands at the left of one of those curves, the bank of sand at the end.The low trees as soon as you enter the sand chute which hide the the place from your view and then emerging out on the soft shore of the river. No big waves, just small lapping curves, gently licking the feet and a swing set at that very edge. So that when you sit on the swing and take a push, you are soaring over gentle laps of water. Deep blue near the bottom and a shimmering blue at the far end.

I feel like taking pictures, maybe I did take some, because the picture of that dream still shines in my mind. With muted gold tones.

I remember thinking, "Oh my god, this is the place I have always dreamed about. I should show this to you" I don't know why you came into my mind then. It felt like of all people I know you would appreciate it the most. Appreciate all of this.

The place is still in my mind, the picture is still fresh, but because it's a dream, I don't know how long it will stay fresh. I feel like sketching it before it disappears, but I don't think I'll do justice to it. It's only my mind that is doing justice to it right now, and these words come a far second to it.

I am sure everyone dreams of things that are so real-ly imaginary. Care to describe them and make me feel like I am not the only one?

A butterfly bond

He was not the person she expected him to be.

No, he didn't deceive her. But, he was just not who she had brought to life in her mind. Who she had put all her faith in, all her trust in. He was not him. He was different.

"But how am I different?"

She didn't know. Different. Maybe a good different for some other girl, but not the different she would have loved.

Maybe she was not what he had thought she would be too. She didn't know. She asked him, she never kept such things in her mind, hidden, but he didn't give her a direct yes or no. And they had always had a direct yes or no relationship. But he tried. She knew he tried his best to create what both had had in mind before they had met. But because he was not who she thought he would be, she did not think it possible.

He still said he would do anything for her, but she did not believe him anymore. He was not him. She did not trust him in the same way too. She just couldn't tell him what was in her mind. She wanted him to at least know that something was on her mind, she would pave the rest of the path, but he seemed ignorant to that. He admitted that she could still read him in the same way, but she didn't really believe it. She wanted to, desperately, but she didn't.

She had wanted more. But she couldn't put a finger on what was that more. It wasn't more love, more affection. more warmth, more trust. It was just more of him. She felt like he was not putting all of himself out there, like he had done before. But he couldn't do that.

She wanted an attachment which was solid, where they looked out for one another no matter what, without actually hovering on top all the time. Just by knowing it. She wanted to have guy talks with him, go girly shopping with him and just go between the night for a walk together, grab some coffee. They ended up liking the same coffee, but not wanting to go for walks together.She missed the bond they had formed. She had come to think of it as everything. As her support system, her sounding wall and her cheer-up valley. She didn't know if he had weaved the same kind of web around him, but she knew even she was not all this for him anymore. She believed she was once. It wasn't love, or any such grave thing, but it was a deep deep trust. Which was supposed to have solidified when they met, not dissolved into something weaker. Something more humane.


She din't want humane, she didn't think he did. Not the he that she knew. But that was all that was left. A light, teasy, butterfly kind of a bond.

The Sea, the sun and the confusion

Pal, my friend doing Urban Planning here, was calling me up to her place, "It's spectacular, the apartment we have rented."

I dint say much. I don't know why. I followed her up the circular staircase to her apartment. I could feel her excitement passing on to me. But I was just smiling.

When I entered her place, it was just a terrace. A square room with glass walls, with a huge terrace bordering it outside from three sides. And out of all those three sides all I could see was the blue, very blue and Azure sea. Rippling gently with the breeze. The coast wasn't visible at all. It was as if the building, her house, was right at the bank of the coast. Looking out into the sea. Beautiful. As far as my eyes could see, as far the horizon stretched all I could see was the blue, blue sea and the orange, setting ball of fire above it. Somehow the sea was untouched by the sun's hue. It was a crystal cobalt and the sky was a mixed palette of reds, yellows and orange.

I don't know how long I stood there, mesmerized. Dumbstruck. Pal had gotten lucky with her home. It was a beauty. It was Mumbai as my eyes saw it. Fascinating. Mumbai, over here.

Suddenly I jolted out of my reverie. "I have a job interview at the radio station, right under your house. Oh god, I'll be late." I rushed out. Longingly, I looked over my shoulder once at the vision I was so enamored by. Something was changing, but I couldn't single it out then.

I ran down the circular staircase, and reached outside the building. I thumped on the door and told the student at the other side that I have a job interview with the RJ right now.

"Which RJ?", he asked me, looking into his rooster.
"RJ Tham."
"Oh, but he has been fired. He should be coming around right now to plead his case, maybe he can plead yours too."

Plead?? How could that be? RJ Tham had taken me around the entire radio station the last time I met him. He had been pretty positive about me getting the job. How did he lose his job????

RJ Tham came around. He did not see me. He charged straight inside. I followed him in. The student let me in thinking that I was coming in with Tham.

We went up the circular staircase. The walls were filled with colorful graffiti. He was saying something about how I can't get the job, because he himself has been displaced. I thought, yeah I got that much, Buster.

I followed him around for a little while. Hoping for something to click in place. For something to happen that would get me this job. Nothing.

I was climbing up the stairs to Pal's place again. Round and round, up, to the blue, blue sea. I somehow felt like I was showing her place to my parents. Telling them that look, she has a place that looks out to the sea... the SEA!!!!!!

When I reached the squarish terrace, I realized what had gone amiss then. The sea had been receding. Now all I could see from the vantage point was small buildings and streets and little bit of sand. No sea anywhere. Up above, the sky was a dull. The color was just not registering. Like the sea, the sky had lost its charm too. Receded maybe?

*****

I live in a non-coastal city now. There is no water body, even within 30 miles of the place that I live in. I can not count small stupid ponds that are miles away, as water bodies. Pal lives in a ground floor apartment(that's called the First floor here; weird) , with two other roomies. I cannot work in a radio station, thought I'd love to, because its not affiliated to the university. The radio station here, is on the ground floor too, facing out to the main street here. There is no sea here. No SEA!!!!! :(

AND I don't understand what my mind can conjure up while my eyes are closed. I just don't get it, and no matter how much I try to find the meanings of such dreams, I come up with the obvious. If there is one thing I know about dreams, it's that it never means what is obvious apparent. Which leaves me flummoxed. Sigh.