The black the white the gray of life

The black the white the gray of life

Sunday, October 31, 2010

The Legend of Ice Break

A puerile face, peeped into the old cupboard. Her beady black eyes searched for long, until they happened to rest upon the wooden chest. She hastily brushed back a curly strand of hair from her face.

Alas,her tiny palms were no match.The heavy chest would not open its arms. But the strong princess did not give up. She fostered all her courage, she stood up.Huffing and puffing with all her life, blood splashing a hue of red on her angelic face...she managed to open the old chest.

A blast of purple light blinded her! When she awoke, she was amazed to see. A fairy there waiting, watching her happily. She neither spoke, nor sang.....confused the little princess held the fairy's hand. The fairy led the princess through a grass maze. There seemed some light, even stronger than the purple blinding one. The princess jumped, stretched her neck...until her toes began to ache.

Suddenly a cold blow stabbed her heart. Sweat trickled down her spine, tears flowed and she lost her smile. Her hand not clasped in the fairy's anymore, the little princess could not move! she just froze.

Then a volcano burst from her stomach and melted her frozen heart. She detested,the fairy mother's kind face! A mere sham!
Tired, weary to calm her heart, the princess closed her eyes as her father's words came clear and close.

"Trust your strengths, believe your goal,
Let injustice not master you,
keep away from self pity and jealousy sore,
You will grow wings strong, all of your own,
And fly higher,bring justice home"

A burst of light broke the maze. The princess grew little wings,still weak but all her own. Then running at the speed of light , smashing all in her way...the princesses wings grew bigger, stronger at each gait. Then she took a flight so high, above the blinding purple mist. She saw the tower, still hidden in the purple shroud.

Her wings ached but she would never surrender, to the cruel fairy and her magic of disguise. She still remembered her motherly face. The little princess had trusted her then. She had thought the little princess will succumb, perish in the evil maze. The little princess forgot her ache, and perched on the towers top clearing the haze.

Astounded to see her reach alive. The fairy's motherly face turned green,shrouded in jealousy's grime. Her evil ghoulish face, shook the princess still little. But she had to let fear pass and not show on her face pink.

The fairy was way too strong and had wings so powerfully grown. She froze the princess in a flash...

The princess is frozen at the top of the tower...along with moss and dead flowers.
But the story does not end here. Her heart is beating she has to just combat fear.Soon the princess will melt and free...and a brutal will shall take her over. To rescue her prince, trapped in the tower!

Saturday, October 30, 2010

High on memories.

Someday when I sit at the window, a tear drop rolls by

Lovely rain decorating the glass, I travel back to memories of class.

Maggi noodles and cutting chai, fresh smell of notes at the stationary guy.

Passing notes, silent phones,

Singing songs at the steps, coming late and knocking doors.

Friends, partners in crime.

Getting caught for using the lift, almost the third time!

Fighting for space at the food court,

For every piece of pizza, there is world war in store.

Standing up for right from wrong,

Each soul searching its song.

One day we’ll all be gone, but college days will ring along.

Memories of sharing one umbrella among three.

I fear separation of my college days and me!

My shadow.

image: Pixmac photos

We never acknowledge it, but it never leaves us. It’s that reflection of the self that we seek belief in when the whole world seems like a labyrinth, where one would definitely lose oneself. The shadow still follows tirelessly.

That’s why I call HER ‘My Shadow’.

She is mad, funny, crazy, caring and independent and many other paradoxical things all at the same time. There is a comfort in her voice that calms the flutters of my heart almost instantly. There is an assurance in her smile that everything will just be OK at once. She is what friendship means to me today, her name is Gauri.

“What? She did that to you”? Gauri yelled almost shouting over the phone. It had just happened and I was sitting on the cold, lonely bench outside class. I had eventually been thrown out, due to my blank expressions and staring at the English text as if it was Hebrew, by Miss David. “I would cherish your honorable presence, mental as well next time Devangini” she said firmly as I nodded in acceptance, still a blank look on my face and excused myself from class. Not that it was her fault; she was one of the most adorable teachers. It was just that I had too many things to keep from doing, like breaking into tears, thinking of what happened today morning and letting my shattered heart show on my face. It was like I felt a vacuum inside me. So, as usual, I just punched her number. “Yes, now she is boycotting me, eventually blaming me for what she did” I said, almost at the verge of tears. I went on to explain that my best friend Heena and our group of friends had blamed me just to take revenge on a group of guys that I was better friends with. Heena had spilled out group secrets to them and just to save her a** told the other girls it was me who did it! Of course they believed her and gave me all ‘those’ betrayed looks that welled up my eyes for something I could never even imagine doing. The mere thought of it scared me!

It wasn’t a silly thing, as what hurt me more was the feeling of being misunderstood always. I was being punished for what? Couldn’t they believe me as much as they believed her? What had I not done for Heena? Cried to her mom to forgive her when she read Heena’s personal dairy, dropped classes because she was feeling low, getting her medicine at recess for headaches and endless other things. Did it mean nothing to her? Oh! Sorry I must not boast what I did, but I just feel like screaming it all out! Never did I expect that in return but of course, respect for it at least. I blurted my heart out to Gauri realizing in no time that I was tasting salt from my tears already. Listen, she said in a calm voice “if there is someone who cannot understand you, then can you call them friends at all? Aren’t you better off with people who believe in you come what may? You are not perfect and so people may take you for granted, but I am proud of you because that is the real you. At least you are not fake. You know you did nothing wrong and once the other girls realize it they will trust you even more. If they don’t there is nothing to regret as they never thought you to be ‘theirs’. I felt so relieved! I almost smiled! She too did in return, as if she heard my smile over the phone! Words were not needed, nor were thanks.

That was the first strong stem of our friendship, and after 7 years it’s still growing fearlessly, with colorful blossoms, without any thorns. I have learnt that friendship is the art of believing and nurturing a bond that is beyond every material thing. Believing means never giving up and always following through good and bad. That’s why she is my shadow and I promise to be hers. I Love you my shadow.

A ride to remember.

My stomach was churning, but I felt like doing cartwheels. This was like actually living a Hindi film scene! On my way to a good cause, I stared back at the trail we had left behind as we speeded past the bumpy, busy roads of Pune. My thoughts were interrupted by a resounding click. Nisha and Sarika were busy taking pictures, capturing this beautiful and equally weird moment. It would anyways be etched in my memory forever. After the food collection drive for an animal welfare project had been completed as a part of business communication, we were delivering the heap of help we all had managed to collect. But what was Hindi film like in that? Well….Mrs. Jasmine had said “ok, now that we have finished with collection and the tempo is here, I need a few to volunteer to go with it till the NGO”. A few guys reluctantly put up their hands. I and my two friends Nisha and Sarika did too, a little more happily. Mrs. Jasmine’s face lit with cheer, the usual twinkle in her black eyes. “Great then, let’s make a move” she said smirking at us, pointing the other students to get into the college bus.
We were pretty happy until we got to know that we would have to sit at the back along with the huge heap because obviously there wasn’t place for many in the front. The guys had to guide the driver. We just stared at each other for a while until the driver honked so loudly that we almost instantly jumped into the back of the open, rusted, rickety tempo.
“Shit happens” Sarika said. We crammed into the little space, cursing ourselves for raising our hands! The ignition roared and we set off. Some annoying silence had also crammed in along with us. I mean 3 girls set in denims and shirts inside an archaic tempo was amusement for people waiting at the signal. They stared at us like we were from outer mars! The 3 min signal seemed like eternity to me. Then suddenly we saw smiles across their impatient faces. Some even cheered with thumbs up! They saw our badges with the NGO name on it. Suddenly a sense of pride engulfed me. Our cold stares at each other turned into proud broad grins. We cheered back. And so, I am living one of the most weird but learning moment of my college days, I am so proud of it even though its Hindi film types. Nisha and Sarika are clicking pictures. I love this journey; my heart is bumping to the rhythm of its soul. I stare at the chaos that is left behind. A moment I would have thought would bring only embarrassment has brought me to do the weirdest and most unsophisticated things. I am sure however low I am, however sad I feel; this memory will make me smile. It will give me the courage to be spontaneous always. Now I believe it’s not always the tough times that we learn from, but the little nuances of life teach sweeter and deeper lessons.

Friday, October 29, 2010


I am still...alive..wait listen to me. Just stop this ...its cracking my pain is killing me. I beg you just stop this now! shouts are muted. Forever! Today I stand alone amongst many. Perhaps many whose identity is as jagged as is mine. I stand at the center,the last to be fitted into the gird of cement. Concrete, geometric....throttled just observing life around.I, once a sculptors dream. I once the inspiration of i reptile...dreaming of me as his home. Now, pulled out. Cut, sliced fitted into this geometric, manipulated creation that guards life from life, one human against another.

Any life that tries to grow on me is cut off. Once a creeper friend, i dearly cherished was replaced by sharp pieces of glass and rusted wire with brutal ends. I cannot be ordinary, but I cannot fight this glue that holds me strong. One day will it melt? will it one day wither? Or find another way to the roots lived along me earlier. We made a kind grow and find ways of comfort for both.

With these one against another creatures its different. They kiss and hug in my shadow.....then one stabs another once on my other side. There are pacts, yes...for some time of need. Do they last? I don't know....I can't reach beyond. I told you this wretched Grey glue holds me fast. Others like me have given up. Drowned their existence in this huge thing standing keep one against another...I told you.

This old lady who sits in my shade is different from others. She is not yet cut away from me. I believe they do not go against her, she seems to belong to the same race. They keep her out always, let her be with me. She is okay on the outer side..they don't entertain her inside. She talks to me, fearless and loud. Her rags ruffle against me but the barbs make no difference to her. Whether light or dark, sun or shadow, creepers or barbs she does not leave my companionship. She smiles so often, loudly. The creases of her eyes are so kind. She blabbers as loudly at every human...they pay no heed. Sometimes they shoo her away but she never minds the other day. But I don't know why....they label her with these three cruel letters 'MAD'.
Stoned...I'm stoned. Set me free and i will tell you.....more of my story. Set me free, if you do I promise....i will prove existence is not merely there. Existence is the victory against crisis.

The Magentic Beauty.......

Just across the window pane, hiding behind the curtain something caught my sleep ridden eye. A splash of magenta,coyly inviting me to celebrate the warm rays of sun.Now enough inspired to pull out of the cozy bed I reached the window, resting my body half oh the wall. Still the cozy embrace of my warm blanket hadn't left me. One cant help but adore, this lovely, full grown rose. A hybrid by section of two breeds of roses that is very beautiful but rarely survives! My mind traveled back to the thoughts that had whirled in it when i fought logic to buy this expensive shrub. Nurturing it all this while, not expecting this magnetic, Magentic burst of joy. Prettily dancing to the winds tune, charmed by its color the butterfly fluttered only to rest and not leave for seconds.I was finding it impossible to control my urge to touch its soft petals. The seconds the butterfly perched itself for on the rose, felt like years to me. In front of the flower, even the beauty of the magnificent winged creature seemed dull to me. Well...maybe it was my love, my sense of belonging at work.The child is always pretty for the mother.My mind now drifts to when it will start to wilt! Can it not live forever? This magentic beauty ..... will have to wither! give in to natures all of us have to. Why did it make the most beautiful last the least? Ranging from the butterfly to the little, pure drop of rain and of course this masterpiece. What went into it? I wondered.....maybe no human form, artist or entity can duplicate its color, charm and purity! No not one....not even the best painter in the world, not even the best photographer in the world!Perhaps I have discovered today...why the best things are the shortest lived. Nature does not want duplication,crushing originality.....evil human instincts that suck out everything pure. Leaving a unnerving pain....a song of sorrow. No I agree now to nature's law. Let it wilt instead in grace. Accept getting old and celebrate it with the thorns and the leaves. Let the butterfly suck its nectar and make the moment a monument of its love...and promise in the mud's embrace they will live forever. Let their love never die.....One last time i close my eyes, capturing the beautiful epitome of purity. As i turn to leave, I make a wish....again for the love of the butterfly and the rose to last forever. The rose will leave a magenta of happiness in my dreams, fill my mind with its scent of purity.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

The Crossing

Crunching the leaves dry and dead,
hand in hand you and me fled.
The backyard will keep our secret,
Untold story of partners in crime..
We hike on, we float in time.

The lunch box piercing your chest,
tightly clamped, against your thudding breast.
The smell of the woods fills my heart,
Is the cricket warning? or just a sarcastic laugh?

And now finally i breathe a sigh!
looking into your tired eyes,
I know the other side is my better half.
My journey ends here, but without you i cannot start the back walk.
Here we meet our most detested third friend!
Human, reality, cast. I dread.
From here on i travel alone.
To the backyard, to tell the banyan tree of today's chores.
After you are gone, I wait as impatiently only for the sun,
So that with the dawn you crossover again and come!