A sinner I am

25 October 2013

I had this feeling that i am going to die today. In my imagination i saw death today. There, in those dingy by-lanes of that world, it looked straight in my eyes. I can't say if i was afraid or not. May be i was. May be i was not. But the only thing that crossed my mind was the thought of these two people.

1. Him

2. Maa

There was this crazy sensation that ran through my veins. I found solace by looking at my watch. It saved me from the harsh clutches of this imaginary death.

(I did not write about the third thing that ran down me. It was about what will happen to my blog. )

~*~

By the time the day ended, I have sinned. I pray for strength, peace, and  li'l bit of forgiveness. Hope i will be granted at least a small packet of each.

वक़्त बह चला

चाहा तो था की पन्ने भर दूँगी

शब्दो को पिरो के जाल बुन दूँगी

इन गहराइयों में समंदर है

या कोई खाई- समेट कर इन्हे मुट्ठी में भर लूँगी

सन्नाटो के परतो पे सतरंगी संसार बसे  है 

सीपियो और सहेलियो में 

अंतर तो कुछ भी नही

क्या सोचा था और क्या जोड़ती चली गई

शब्दों के मायने वक़्त ले चला बहा 

अहसास आज कुछ इस तरह से उमड़े है

काग़ज़ो के साँचे में ढलना गवारा नही

खामोशियो की ज़ुबानी

भूले बिसरे ही सही

दिल तक झीनी झीनी सी दस्तक

पहुचाती  तो होगी

And so like this, footloose emotions and far from organized thoughts tangle forever with words. Not always they mean something. But at sudden burst of moments they mean the world to me.  And so like this, today, with random and free-flowing juxtaposition of words, MyWhiteWindow celebrates her glorious sixth anniversary.  

Thank you for being an integral part of my journey. Without you all, it would not have been this much memorable and worthwhile.

~*~

Word of the Day is: 

Kintsukuroi: (Japanese) "to repair with gold"; the art of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken.

My blog stands as a witness to my Kintsukuroi moments. Rather it stands as my broken pottery repaired with gold.

The word has been suggested by Sri (Sridevi Datta) who blogs here at Bhelpuri Unlimited. Thank you so much Sri.

~*~

Special Mention: 

• Corinne who blogs here at Everyday Gyan. This year blogging would not have been this much glorious without her efforts and best wishes. In terms of writing and blogging, this has been my best year. Thank you Corry. 
• Write Tribe

~*~

P:S: Subinoy, a good friend of mine has gifted my blog her own domain name. So did you guys notice it? But in the process, I have lost all the Facebook likes and g+1 shares. This makes me sad indeed. Please guide me on how can I restore them back.

Love,
Pree

Saudade

Something suddenly pricks the heart, exactly right there where it happens to carry the feeling called saudade. A surge of indescribable pain and a heavy mist of worthless longings fill the room, surpassing every other feeling that resides there. The heart knows that the reality is different and accepts the harsh veracity that these longings will forever remain futile. The loss is too big to be ever filled by anything else; perhaps too close as well.

Brick by brick, the world turns concrete

Word by word, I still keep you alive

The surge, the pain, and the futile longings

Glints of bliss embedded within.

Misty mornings and the autumn leaves

The golden, the barren; merged in soil

Watered in tears and in silence.

In words, in clutters, and emptiness.

How not to love you; I find it hard

Why to hold on, I know not

Life goes on, over the rail tracks

With box full of memories tugged along

Ways of heart, O! How to comprehend

Tenho saudades tuas, it is the love that remains

~*~

"saudade [saw-oo-da-ji] (Noun) is a Portuguese and Galician word that has no direct translation in English. It is a deep emotional state of nostalgic or deeply melancholic longing for something or someone that was loved and then lost, with the knowledge that it or they might never return; “the love that remains”.

It brings sad and happy feelings all together, sadness for missing and happiness for having experienced the feeling. In Portuguese,

"Tenho saudades tuas" (European Portuguese) or "Tenho saudades de você" (Brazilian Portuguese), translates as "I have saudade of you" meaning "I miss you", but carries a much stronger tone. In fact, one can have saudade of someone whom one is with, but have some feeling of loss towards the past or the future.  

Saudade is seventh most difficult word to translate of all words in all languages and thus is, unsurprisingly, untranslatable.  

Interestingly in Brazil, a Suadade Day is celebrated and the official Saudade Day is on January 30" Source: Wikipedia

 I have saudade of many things. And I have tried to list seven of them here in this post.

1. My maternal Grandparents: Unfortunately I didn't have the luck to grow up in their laps for certain familial reasons. But whatever time I have spent, were priceless. My heart longs for them, for their love, care, and the innumerable rajkahinis. I wish I had them a li’l more.

 2. Bicycle: No matter how big I grow up this acute urge to go to school riding my own Ladybird with books and bunch of flowers in its front basket can never leave my soul alone. My heart cries to realize that I never got this chance to fulfill this dream. This unfulfilled desire follows me relentlessly.

Read my poem  Bicycle Stories. ~incomplete .

 3. Yellow Butterfly: I was very small back then. And there she was fluttering on the floor, the smallish butterfly I have ever seen. Bright yellow in color. My mother and sister woke me up so that I can look at it. I saw and it was an instant love. I don’t know what hit me; I cupped my hands over it, lest it flies away. The yellowish powder from its wings were stuck on my palm. And there she was-DEAD. In my innocence to protect it, I killed it. The guilt remains and unlike that yellow butterfly it refuses to die. I have loved it with all my heart. Now the love and the guilt follow me together.

4. Bayzid: My closest friend from school, who one day left me just like that. Not even a note he left for me. Why? May be someday he will come back to answer.

 5. My Diary and that sketchbook: I was never into diary writing. But I had one diary which was filled with scribbling, doodles, and yes stickers and stick-stones. There I had written one epic love letter (Anthony Gonsalvis to her Roopmati), using titles of many Hindi cinemas. It was my top notch piece of fiction letter and as it was written in those days when I had yet not taken up writing, was very close to my heart. Somehow it got leaked and I am proud to say that it made me quite famous in school and even my teachers could not resist smiling while reading it. About my sketchbook, well I can still visualize those strokes of pencils. The one that was my favorite was the one where I had sketched myself. I was sitting on bed with my legs stretched straight and the sketchbook on my lap. From my feet, I started to sketch myself and reached up to my neck and then there was some errand bunch of hair.

I don’t sketch any more. Nor do I decorate the pages of my diary. Sigh!

6. Pets: The love and bond I shared with them have surely surpassed the time. I pray wherever they are, they stay good.

7. Green Crocodile: I was never a doll person, nor did I ever like the extravagant toys. Rather I love small toys that we can find on traffic signals and in small toy-stores. The story dates back to my college days when I had crossed the age of playing with toys. One day my aunt bought this crocodile for his son. But the moment I saw it I knew it was mine. I did not cared a bit about my cousin's feeling and grabbed hold of it. It was meant to be mine forever and it was mine. Green in color; it used to crawl when the key was churned on. While crawling, its mouth used to open and close in perfect rhythm. The handle of the key was also in the shape of a crocodile; a smallish green crocodile. Then on one day, I found it broken. Needless to say my heart broke too.

I found the same toy in Haridwar, but my mom didn't buy it for me, saying that she will buy it from the next shop as the quality here is tad bad. Next, in no toy shop it was available. Few months back, I found a similar toy which was being sold in the traffic light area of Chirag Delhi. It was big in size and was multicolored. Again I Could not buy it.

Till date my heart and my eyes search for that green crocodile in every toy store. No luck yet. Sigh!

This list is in-exhaustive and I chose not to write about certain people and things.

I am sorry for a very long post again. I could not control my feelings. Who knew that this festival and this theme will let me discover myself?

Today I heartily celebrated my 1st official Saudade Day. 

~*~

Now dear readers, if you are still reading, do tell me what do you have saudade of? May you all celebrate a bit of your Saudade Day too,  right here in MyWhiteWindow

~*~ 

I am taking part in The Write Tribe Festival of Words 1st - 7th September 2013.

My Theme: To write on seven words that

• We don't hear generally 
• Non-English words 
• Words that are untranslatable in English 
•  Let's see, how can I include more varieties. 
• And in the process to self-discover myself.

Let me know what do you think about my choice of theme for this Seven days of Writing Festival. 

Word suggestions are highly welcomed. So com'on bring it on. :)

Look what I found while researching for Saudade, a beautiful collection of songs from an album called Saudade. Listen to them here at  http://www.stereomood.com/activity/saudade#

Meraki

"Meraki [may-rah-kee] (adjective) This is a word that modern Greeks often use to describe doing something with soul, creativity, or love — when you put “something of yourself” into what you’re doing, whatever it may be. Meraki is often used to describe cooking or preparing a meal, but it can also mean arranging a room, choosing decorations, or setting an elegant table. 

There is no English equivalent for this word. Meraki is, unsurprisingly, untranslatable."

May-rah-kee! Did I pronounce it right? I love it how my head swings left and right while I sing-song the Greek word may-rah-kee.

One fine day, I found this beautiful word on Facebook and it took me no second thought to share it on my Timeline. As fast I shared it, I moved ahead with other things on Facebook. In my daily life I easily get bored and then head towards all those thoughts that suggest me how I am wasting my life by living a pretty mundane and monotonous life. I am a big time procrastinator and the after-effects of it kill me bit by bit every day. Past couple of months were difficult. What made it worst is the fact that I was insecure and I even lost my sleep in the hands of regular nightmares.

A mail from him was waiting in my inbox. It was just a line or two and written in response to one of the posts I have shared on my Timeline. Initially I was upset to find such a smallish mail as he was writing to me after a gap of two days.

You might have shared it just like that but subconsciously you must be aware that this is how you are. But let me reiterate it to you in loud and bold letters....this is how you are...this is how you love to do things for those whom you love... this is how you do things that are close to your heart... you put all your heart, soul, creativity, and love. In a nutshell you put ‘something of yourself’ in the things you do... and this is exactly how you love me too. Yes I am talking about the word MERAKI and for me the symbol of Meraki is no one but you... yes you, my Greek Goddess. :D

Rest all is fine and the ship ain't rolling no more. :) 

It would be an understatement to say that the mail made me happy. It was much beyond the thing called happiness. I wondered is it really true? I happen to be a person who highly underestimates herself and thus is harsh on herself most of the time. With a mug of hot lemon tea spiced with cinnamon, I realized that may be he has exaggerated the whole thing but whatever he has written holds ample amount of truth too.

I am just an ordinary girl with some above average talents but yes, I realized that I do them exactly the way he has mentioned. I am by nature an introvert and my social circle is very limited. But those I love, I love with all my heart and soul. Yes, it is true. And it made me feel at the top of the world.

I have tried to list few things that I do with Meraki. There are many more but the top few are here in the list below:

Well can you guess them by looking at the pictures???

1. Writing: I am sure the day I and my writings are no longer together, I would be as good as a dead body, may be worse than that. I know, I can’t churn write-ups after write-up yet and that I frequently take long breaks, and yes truth be told that I procrastinate a lot too; but writing makes me what I am, even though my writing abilities are very mediocre and it is seldom that I am happy/satisfied with them. I don’t know who and how I will be if I were never this close to weaving words. I don’t even want to imagine a life like that. Along with the way I love my people, if there is something else where I am true to myself and pour my heart and soul in to it, it has to be Writing. My words reflect the real me. The things that even I am not aware about myself are weaved through my words. I am thankful to God for blessing me with the ability to write, to write with Meraki.

 2. If you are my person, I will love you and be there for you in every thick and thin. I would cook for you, weave words for you, and yes my gifts to you will always contain something handmade. I know there are few people who can vouch for it. And from them only I have learnt that, I do take time to come close, but once you are my person, love and compassion come easy to me. Meraki it is. Isn’t it?

3. Cooking: I seldom cook. But when I do, I put my heart into it. It is pure ‘meraki’ when I cook for my dad. And it would be so when I would occasionally cook for him in future.

4. Paper and paper works and of course colours: I am a passionate Quiller. I love the fact that just by rolling a strip of paper, how wonderfully I can let my creativity loose. If I am found quilling, it is sure that I must have lost track of time and place and nothing could make me come out of my reverie till I finish doing it. Just like me he is totally into origami and I too would pick it up soon.

5. Peepal leaf paintings: I got hooked to it when I was in high school and since then I am mad about it. I learnt it on my own. The extremely pungent procedure can never drive me away, even when my whole family is ready to kill me. 

These handmade things then form a formidable part of my gift packages to the people I love. If you are my person, sooner or later you would receive something hand made from me along with few written words.

6. Losing myself in the lap of hill-station: I do that with elan and with complete meraki. I wish that one fine day I will have my very own wooden cottage in the solitude of misty nature, green valleys, lines of pine tress, cascading waterfalls, sky full of twinkling stars, color splashed sunrise and sunset, piping hot soups, and majestic snow-capped mountains. 

7. The way I love my Soulmate: No amount of words, exquisite or plain, can never to justice to this and hence I surrender.

Meraki! This is how I share myself with myself and to those whom I love and to my readers via my blog. I leave a piece of myself behind with the hope that its presence will be forever there for you to feel. I want to linger in your good memories and wish to be your smile in your dry and rainy days. This is how I want to live on.

~*~

I am taking part in The Write Tribe Festival of Words 1st - 7th September 2013.

My Theme: To write on seven words that

• We don't hear generally
• Non-English words
• Words that are untranslatable in English 
• Let's see, how can I include more varieties.

Let me know what to you think about my choice of theme for this Seven days of Writing Festival.

Knots of Musical Notes

सुनो! तुम कहा करते थे

इन उंगलियों और सिलवटों के

बीच की दूरियों में

गुनगुने कई अहसास

बसा करते हैं.

तरंग की लहरें यूँ ही नहीं

उठती, थमती और गिरती है

नज़दीकियों के पागलपन को 

इसी का सहारा जो हैं 

बौराई सी तेरी याद में 

जब सागर लहरे बावरे कुछ 

अफ़साने ढूंड लेती है 

बारिश की बूँदों का शोर 

कहा रास आता है 

तुम कहते हो 

शोर भी संगीत है 

और कभी खामोशी मे भी कविता. 

पर जब यादों के आँगन मे बस जाते हो 

एक एक करके मेरी सारी रुसवाइयों 

में भी नया कोई गीत ढूंड लेते हो 

आज ज़िद है अपने आप से कि 

तुम्हारी एक ना सुनूँगी 

इन दूरियों को तुम्हारे अनकहे 

गीतो के धुनो मे ना पिरौंगी 

तुम भले ही हर संगीत में मुझे पा लो 

तेरे आने तक मैं कोई अब नया 

धुन न बुनूँगी. 

This is a story of a girl who is waiting for her beloved to come back. They have decided and promised that he would write songs about the faces, places, and the traces he encounters and she would give music to his words and vice-versa. Hence even amid this temporary separation, this way they would find each other in their very own magical realms. Which can be referred as their Home. 

But a woman's mood has a brain of its own and thus there are times when she proudly adorns her crown of a  Drama Queen. So this lady in question, in order to want her beloved to come back soon, innocently (?) declares that she would not write any new song nor would she create new tunes till he comes back.

Only to do that yet again. And again.

For music and the words bind them Together- Mighty and Strong. 

She can be termed as a true Indiblogeshwari with all the नाज़ and नखरा embedded in her in all their glories.

~*~

This post is written for Indiblogeswari's #ThatTuesdayThingy contest 1- an attempt to stop by and challenge ourselves to go that extra mile to tell our tales! 

In this week's prompt I have to write about how Rahul Sharma's 'Time Traveller' has spoken to my soul. I hope I am able to connect to it in my own unique way. Wish me Good luck.

Firefly.

In the realms of my negligible existence, there are some miniature moments when I shine bright from some light within. You were lucky to catch that glimpse of me. And I was fortunate to hold you responsible for that silver lining on my bare heart. You did not notice and I did not realize that in you, I, on that very day, atop the sunset point, saw the man with whom my subconscious mind has always been in dire love. 

You were my Neruda that day. 

And thus with the setting sun behind us, I lived many hundred lives--- Together. 

~*~

“As if you were on fire from within. 

 The moon lives in the lining of your skin.” 

 ― Pablo Neruda

I Love

Post after post dealing with melancholy this is now time to rejuvenate and for some happy introspection. So let me list certain things I love and thus unclutter my mind a bit. Life is simple and let me keep it like that for some time. Errr.... at least for a day. :)

1. Mountains: I can never do justice in expressing my love for it. I feel like home in the wide arms of Mountains. Even before I had the opportunity to visit one, I felt a strong connection with it. Everything about it attracts me and the attraction, the love, and the deep connection never cease to amaze me. Last September I went to Mc.Leodganj and my 3 days trip easily got stretched to 7days and yet I was just not ready to come back home. I want to go back in the arms of some beautiful mountain like right now. 

2. Snowfall: I have no idea when exactly my love affair with it started. But till date I have got only one opportunity to experience its love back. It was in the year 2006 and during my Amarnath Trip, the heavenly nature bestowed me with snowfall. I can still feel that ecstasy running on my spine, the ecstasy of snow-flakes gracing my body and my soul.

3. Light House: I just don't know why. I often imaging myself on the top of a light-house. Silence. Moonlight. And just Me. Sometimes with Him too.

4. Cheesecakes: I just can have cheesecakes all the time. My happiness knew know bound when I made one at home myself. The moment was euphoric.

5. Food: Yes I do. And I love to try different cuisines. My food lists will never have an end to it.

6. Soup: I can never adjust soup in Food category. It is an absolute independent category and I can happily live a major part of my life on SOUP.

7. DND road: there is certain kind of beauty over that stretch of road. Whenever I am there the beauty encapsulates me. I feel a queer sense of peace over there. The wide DND toll road, the Yamuna over flowing beside, the greenery around, the cool-soothing breeze, the twinkling street-lights and the glittering vehicles and their sparkling reflections on the river ; everything has an intoxicating effect on me.

8. Bicycles: Nothing… almost nothing can replace my love for it. And for some reasons unknown I can never leave it behind. Well to be honest I know the reasons and may be one day I will write on it too.

9. Poems and poets: and I always excited to know/feel/understand what went inside the poet’s heart and mind that lead to a birth of poetry.

10. Ikebana: My love for flowers, nature, art, stories, concepts, minimalism and Japan are the reasons behind my love for Ikebana. In this life time of mine I will surely master the art of Ikebana one fine day.

11. Rainfall: I forget just everything. Only a certain kind of happiness fills me up. I have so many fantasies associated with it.

12. Quilling and paper art: It is amazing how a piece or just a strip of paper can create a whole new world. I wish I could give more time to quilling.

13. Peepal leaf: For me it is the most beautiful leaf on earth. And I love to paint on it.

14. Ink pens: :)

15. Watches: Along with books and ink-pens, gift me a watch and see me on the top of the world.

16. Traveling and exploring the unknown.

17. Photographs: explains why I have hordes and hordes of photographs with me. This includes the photo of silliest of silly things. I am not a photographer but someone who loves to click.

18. My girlfriends: No explanation needed. I just love them for no reason.

19. Bending straws and the cute li’l Mocktail Umbrellas: :D

20. My phone which is a brand new Galaxy Note II. And I just can’t get enough of it. Yes, it is li’l big and heavy to carry but then love is blind too. :)

21. Holding his hands.And just silence all around.

22. Balconies. Corners. Candles and Lamps.

23. Wind on my face and in my ever entangled hair.

24. Musical Fountains.  And how to stop my heart from swaying with every beat and move of it?

25. Bangles, Bracelets and earrings.

26. Dogs, Crows, Sparrows, and Squirrels. Those cute li'l things brims me with happiness. Yes a crow too. I find crow to be one of the most handsome birds. I love humming birds too but have never seen it for real. And my life is incomplete without my dogs around me.

27. Sunflowers. Whenever I am sad I imagine for a field full sunflowers. It helps me to overcome my pain. And just the thought of sunflowers makes me happy.

28. Feathers, Dried flowers, and Dried Leaves kept inside the pages of my books

29. Shantaram. He or the book.... i just can't decide. And needless to say i love the Man behind him.... Gregory David Roberts.

30. Leonardo DiCaprio:  i am not just madly in love with him but plain insane about him. Lock me in a room and let me watch his movies back to back. I won't complain at all. Oh! God! will i ever get to kiss him??

I can't end the post without mentioning my love for Windows. My entire blog reflects my love for it. And i need to dedicate a complete post for expressing my love for the windows.

Love & Hugs
~Pree

Stick Stuck Stucked

How often…how very often I still allow you to raise such havoc inside me that my already collapsed walls of heart find it hard to again stand up and accept the truth.

"I have...and you need to too."– The words reverberate.

As I put down such disparaged feelings on paper, a sense of abhorrence engulfs me. No, the hatred is never towards you or for anyone else. I know very well that I am the only person on whose proud shoulders the blame lies. While I look back and see the time and the moments gone by, I ponder, how could the course of time change me for worse? I was never such a silly thing. I was a livewire. Wasn’t I? And the things I deserve in life are happiness, peace, and love. And I let you be their synonyms in my life. And that's exactly where I went wrong.

When life is like a dreaded cold night and outspread is the aloofness – even clinging to an icicle provides the much needed warmth. May be it is all in mind!

Really! And how exaggerated it looks to me now… only within few minutes of writing the just above lines!  How well we embellish our sorrows while keeping the life waiting next door.

The tussle goes on…in my mind…and in my heart.

And when everything seems to go wrong, what never fail are books, movies, songs, serials and of course the hobby kits.

It was just another random evening when the memories inside my heart were crying out loud. Before that I hardly knew how the serials I catch upon occasionally can help me dramatically to piece together my broken self in a very sublime way.

No. It was not a coincidence as life has its own cryptic ways to make us believe in it over and over again. And so the opening quote that day on the re-run of Grey’s Anatomy was,

The dictionary defines grief as keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret. As surgeons, as scientists, we're taught to learn from and rely on books, on definitions, on definitives. But in life, strict definitions rarely apply. In life, grief can look like a lot of things that bear little resemblance to sharp sorrow. 

The episode ended with such hard-hitting truths which startled me beyond words.

Lexie: [narrating] Grief may be a thing we all have in common, but it looks different on everyone.

Mark: It isn't just death we have to grieve. It's life. It's loss. It's change.

Alex: And when we wonder why it has to suck so much sometimes, has to hurt so bad. The thing we gotta try to remember is that it can turn on a dime.

Izzie: That's how you stay alive. When it hurts so much you can't breathe, that's how you survive.

Derek: By remembering that one day, somehow, impossibly, you won't feel this way. It won't hurt this much.

Bailey: Grief comes in its own time for everyone, in its own way.

Owen: So the best we can do, the best anyone can do, is try for honesty.

Meredith: The really crappy thing, the very worst part of grief is that you can't control it.

Arizona: The best we can do is try to let ourselves feel it when it comes.

Callie: And let it go when we can.

Meredith: The very worst part is that the minute you think you're past it, it starts all over again.

Cristina: And always, every time, it takes your breath away.

Meredith: There are five stages of grief. They look different on all of us, but there are always five.

Alex: Denial.

Derek: Anger.

Bailey: Bargaining.

Lexie: Depression.

Richard: Acceptance.

I have seen this episode before also but never did it make so much sense to me.

And it hurts to realize how very close I have always held you to my heart. And it hurts more to realize that I can never express that to you in words. Nor even with silence...not anymore. And it hurts beyond measures to wonder– would you ever realize my realization?

I am not sure on which stage I am in. It seems that even after reaching the last stage, I am still stuck in all the previous stages. How very uncanny of me to be in such a juncture of life where ‘Denial’ and ‘Acceptance’ are fighting with each other while holding their hands tight.

~*~

…and I really want to pour my heart about 'Moving on' and 'How I Met your Mother'. But as always I am once again in such a baffled situation where I am unable to react due to overwhelmingly over-crowded emotions. It rips my heart apart. May be some day I will choose to write on these pending thoughts instead of dumping them in the backyard of heart where many ideas, memories, emotions, and feelings are resting in peace... when all they deserved was– to be written.

~*~

Some more quotes from the same episode that turned the pitcher of my heart upside down,

• Alex: You died in my arms. You died in my arms! You freakin' died, and then you left instructions that I wasn't allowed to save your life. You wanna know what I'm scared of? I'm scared of everything. I'm scared to move. I'm scared to breathe. I'm scared to touch you. I can't lose you. I won't survive. And that's your fault. You made me love you, you made me let you in. And then you freaking died in my arms.

• Izzie: I'm wishing for a brain tumor. I'm wishing all the time for a giant tumor that would just press down on my brain and make me hallucinate George. So that I could talk to him again, so I could laugh with him again.

• Bailey: I lost O'Malley. And um, I just can't. I can't care anymore. Stevens is not my child. O'Malley was not my child. I have to stop treating them... I just have to stop caring so much. 'Cause I can't keep feeling... feeling like this. 

Image Courtesy: www.thoughtbubbleproject.com

Of You and Me and Delhi Winters.

Lost memories found their way.
Back to me.
On a misty morning.
In a lonesome tea-stall.
At some long forgotten corners.

Crossroads are still crossroads.

--- © Preetilata Sarkar

~आते जाते खूबसूरत आवारा सड़को पे कभी कभी इत्तेफ़ाक से कितने अन्जान लोग मिल जाते है... उनमे से कुछ लोग भूल जाते है कुछ याद रह जाते है. 

P.S: The lines in Hindi are from a song of a Hindi Feature Film.

From the depths abyssal.

The earth ponders and keeps the fire burning. I witness it with wide open eyes. There is something so very mean and uncultivated there. Uncultivated and bereaved of many things out of which some fickle and frivolous emotions top the list. Emotions – the most talked about but very much overrated somethings. We play around and make merry all in the garb of some pretentious fallacies and in the process we keep on hurting while obnoxiously shouting about how hurt we ourselves are. And we do it all in the name of something called 'emotions'. Every drop of tear that leaves its abode tells a story. A kind of story that’s smeared in falsity and brevity. 

And what comes handy is the withdrawal syndrome. But how far one can run away from those fallacies made out of erroneous efforts that consumed no less than a lifetime? When life itself is just a mere notion of something unknown. 

Palpitating emotions and its accompaniments would not hold even a mere substance when the sun would celebrate over the other side of the sky. Till then let me enjoy the excruciating pleasure covered under the thick wrap of uncouth pain for some more time. Perhaps just perhaps it will keep me going for few more steps when the sun is yet to shine.

Let’s see for how long felicity eludes me!

...and meanwhile the world is in chaos, one Olive writes to her Popeye.

Dearest Popeye

It's now been more than a year that you have left with your ship. While waves after waves you conquer the mighty ocean and taste the salt flavoured air of many different countries spread across the continents, I, your Olive, still miss you, remember you, and wait for your mails, calls, and precisely your comeback with the same eagerness and desperateness that was there in me exactly at the time when you disconnected the call and your ship sailed away leaving the comforts of my embrace and the safety of the harbour behind. 

I still lead a plain and simple life and the world still continues to do what it was doing. Rising-Falling-and like a phoenix, again Rising up. Against my will, I have finally donated those dog-eared old books to the neighbourhood library. Surprisingly, I feel good about it. I wonder why not I did it all these while! Guess what! Your wheedling was not forceful enough! Damn! How could it be not! 

The fuchsia plant finally is in full bloom. And it still carries the smell of McLeodganj. Crisp and fresh. This season it’s after a long wait. Isn't? And I still continue to make lemon cheesecakes even though it’s that time of the year when carrot cakes are made. And I have not yet finished that maroon pullover. But I am sure you will be happy to know that the matching muffler is long done. I wanted to add some woollen snowflakes in them but I messed the pattern and now those weird shapes look straight in my eyes and make funny faces to me. But boy! Do I get teased! I totally do not. What a win it is! Isn’t?  By the way I have asked Dorji to arrange for a second hand recipe book on soup. He said he will get it post Diwali. I cannot wait for six long months more for you to get me a soup book. Or should have I?

Without my knowing my eyes still tell stories to the people around me and very curiously once in a while they ask me, who is he for whom your eyes are longing for? I stumble and then fumble but all I give them is an answer in return that consists of a silent pressed smile. In your words, the Olive signature smile. The answer also consists of a pair of eyes that blinks as a result of certain surge of something called tears or the like. And my heart, it slows down, beat by beat. 

कुछ मद्धम सांसो के दरमिया 

तेरी यादों ने डेरा डाला है.

आज चाँद भी कुछ इस कदर इतरा के आया

के दूब की घास पर ओस की उस धुन्द्लि सी बूँद ने

कुछ पल और जीने का फ़ैसला लिया है.

इन यादों में तेरा कुछ इस कदर बसेरा है

के मैं भूल भी जाउ तो तू चौखट पर आ के 

मुझे हौले से आवाज़ दे जाता है.

चंद पीले फूल और उनमे वो बैंगनी सी छटा

उलझी उलझी सी ज़ूल्फ़ो में उन पंखुड़ियो का उलझना

तेरी आँखों के वो बदमाश इशारे और तेरा 

तेरी उंगलियो का मेरे बिखरे ज़ुल्फ़ो में पिरोना

और दूर कही सूरज का मेरी आँचल से फिसल जाना.

कभी कभी फ़ुरसत के नर्म छादर में

बेतरतीब तेरे बिना जीना भी-शफ़ाफी है.

दूरिओं में भी महकी नज़दीकिया है.

सच! उम्मीद कितना खूबसूरत है

उम्मीद कितना खूबसूरत है.

Bublé is growing fast. The bone you have bought for him is already finished  I have clicked a photo just now and am about to attach it. But wait, let me not send you any photographs as I am afraid your almost no net connectivity would not let you see it. I better not clog the server.

If time and network finds you, take the ordeal(pleasure?) to make a call. Lemon cheesecakes are in the oven and they now need my complete attention. Will write to you soon again.

With much love
~Olive

Up in the lonesome mountains there was this shanty tea stall. Rain, fire, old kettle. And two wooden stools...still robust. Rain drops dripping in. And Chai in some cheap paper-cups. :)

काश ऐसा होता के तू

मेरी इन् अँखियो को
पढ़ पाता.

कहने को तो कुछ भी नही है
सिवा दो चार बून्दो के.

तू ढूंड तो ज़रा...
और कुछ भी नही है.

सिर्फ़ तेरे
सिवा तेरे.

~Untitled

The caricatures on ones walls are not always the reflection of their souls. There are layers of layer in between and by the time the reflected images hold your attention, they are all contorted. 

To a certain Someone-

आपमें और मुझमें
कई परतो की दूरी सी है.
कुछ रेशम के धागो सी
तो कुछ रंगीन शामों की.

वो ग़लती से मेरा तुझको छू देना
ग़लती तो शायद ही थी!
तेरा मुस्कुराना भर ही काफ़ी था
धड़कनो को बे-लगाम करने के लिए.

उन हवाओ संग बहते हुए
मेरी ज़ुल्फो में कुछ तमन्नाए सी थी.
कुछ सैलाब सा था जो
गरज बरस के इंतेज़ार में बंजर सा रो रहा था.

तू आता है तो एक
सुकून सा महसूस होता है.
तू जाता है तो भी
सुकून सा ही महसूस होता है.

रूह को शायद
तेरे होने भर से ही...

एक लगाव सा कुछ हो गया है.

मरासिम

इस अजनबी सी दुनिया मे 

इत्तेफ़ाक से ही शायद 

कई मोड़ पे तुम हमे मिल गये l

रन्जिशो को सांसो मे दबाए 

दबि हुई आवाज़ मे- कई बार तुम्हे 

पुकारा भी l

दस्तक तो तुम्हारे दिल ने भी सुनी थी शायद

हा ! सुनी थी न? 

पर जज़्बात उन आँखों से बयाँ ना हुए l

हमने  कई बार - कभी रुक के 

तो कभी मुड़ के  

चोर नज़रों से तुम्हे जताया भी l

यकिनन छूती थी तुम्हे  

हवाओ मे बहते हुए ये शब्द 

पर जानकर भी अन्जान से रहे बने तुम l

वरना हैरानगी ने तो कम से कम 

तुम्हारी नज़रों से मेरी नज़र तक का सफ़र

तय किया तो होता ll 

~*~

=D

Image Source: Best Quotes

Bicycle Stories. ~incomplete

And there goes the road to my school

With memories planted on each side

Blooming with delight

And swaying with pride.

Barefooted I walk over the lone road

And try to match the size of my foot

With the ones- imprinted long back.

Impressions. Some of them refuse to fade.

There was a dream of dreams

A one of a kind.

Fonder. Special. Closest.

But some dreams turn to memories

Roll in the dust of time

Those dreamlores. They are always there.

Reality. That’s something they are not meant to be.

Dated: 14th Oct'10  

P.S: Tried hard since long to end this scribbling with such a stanza which would sing songs of optimism. But couldn't. May be one fine day it would be rewritten. Yes, it would be completed some time soon. :)

Tujhse hi ruthana re, tujhe hi manaana, tera mera naata koi duja na jaana

কেটেছে একেলা বিরহের বেলা আকাশকুসুমচয়নে।
সব পথ এসে মিলে গেল শেষে তোমার দুখানি নয়নে॥

Well, it’s been ages since I last indulged myself in the pleasures of buying books. Many an unfinished novel lies across my unkempt and almost broken table. Some with a dog ear and some with bookmarks slashed in, are patiently waiting for their turn to be labelled as ‘finished reading’. Every night when I perch my head out of this heavy blanket, I can see the glimpse of green that is there on the cover of The Hungry Tide. As far as I remember I had been a lover of reading books. I still am but I regret not reading since long.

Due to some office work, I had to visit Select Citywalk in the evening. Once the work was finished I had this stupid urge to eat something. Undecided about what to eat I was strolling around with many a thoughts playing games inside my head. Ignoring my hunger cramps I entered Pantaloons knowing that I won’t buy anything even when I would definitely like many a things there.

It was a phone call that just ruined every bit of my quite a happy mood. I was visibly irritated and fuming with anger. People are never quite satisfied with you ever. No matter how much efforts you put in, what counts is what you didn't do. Even when it was not your duty to do it. And these days I just find it hard to rely on people. I have recoiled myself so much that if I don’t uncoil myself soon enough, I would break. What’s hurting me most is the feeling that I am becoming insensitive towards things. Now I don’t cry. Much. And that hurts the most. Why? Why? Why, the hell am not crying like before. See I want to. But I don’t. My one of the greatest fears is to grow insensitive towards things, matters, feelings, emotions and people. I want my heart to feel. It should be alive and throbbing. Always. I want my heart to beat louder. The silence these days kind of kills me. What I seriously want is ‘chaos’ at its full volume.

It was my good old Crosswords that preserved my sanity today. Books. After a long time, I had my ‘me time’ with the books today. I already have so many unfinished novels and it actually was not a smart idea to spend on books. Still I went ahead. With the hope that may be this step would alter my otherwise insipid life. I not only have to ‘move on’ but to 'move ahead’ also. Whatever has been left unfinished can be finished later on. If not, then let them be. But those unfinished novels should never clip my wings and stop me from flying high to some other worlds. Worlds that could only be explored by diving deep in the pages of the books I bought. Who knows I might just start writing again. No, not like before but much better than ever. 

Enough of stupid philosophy and reasoning. To put it straight and simple may be this is just a failed attempt to distract myself from the thoughts of.... Do pray that I succeed. I am tired of my moist eyes. You stupid water droplets, damn, either you shed yourself or just go away and dry. Don’t just bug me by welling up time and again.

In case you care, I bought, 'My Name is Red', 'The Museum of Innocence' and 'One Amazing Thing' today. Confused which one to start first, I gave in myself to write this stupid post. Yes, this is yet another failed attempt to write again. I have so many profound, deep and beautiful thoughts in my head that if I ever succeed in writing them, I am sure they will be a masterpiece each. I hate this feeling when my thoughts like a lump in throat refuse to move from it's place. It almost chokes me and leaves me panting for breath. My thoughts refuse to turn into written words. They keep on churning inside my head, heart and soul and derive a goddamn pleasure in torturing me.

But my chase for my lost Muse is still on. And the race is about to reach it's finishing line. I know, the winner will be Me. I have a feeling that the day is not far when my masterpieces will be there in front of me. Inscribed in my own handwriting. I will read them. Again and again. Write them and then will rewrite them. No, I don't have any desires of being famous, or a writer. I don't even expect you or for that matter anyone to read them. I can see many of you smirk at the word MASTERPIECES. But it doesn't matter anymore. I have left blogging for others a long time back. It's not blogging anymore. It's more of talking to self. It's to let my heart do some talking.

But you know, I know you would always find your way back to my blog, time and again. Waiting desperately to read an update. Sifting endlessly through my archive. Reading each line twice. Stopping at the word 'You'and pondering "is this 'you' me?" Tilting your head and smiling a little. Pressing you lips and crying a little. With a cup of Darjeeling cha or a cigarette? Taking a trip to down memory lane that we spent together. Dreaming of a future that we just couldn't spend in each other's custody...holding hands and then in arms. The kiss. The Bliss. Even the fights and arguments.

Know that I would always skip a beat each day and dedicate it to you. For your well-being,happiness and success. Know that even when the circuits of my brain are all out of place but my heart still beats. For I may be a crazy, silly and in short a stupid girl but my soul is pure and well ahead of time. And my heart is still intact.

दिल्ली

इस शहर में वो बात कहा

जो मेरे अपने शहर की थी.

जहा हर धूप की छाओं में

मैने सपने सेंकी थी.

यहा दीवारो से साये भी अब

सिल सी गयी है.

उम्मिदो से हिम्मत की परत

न जाने कब...छिल सी गयी है.

शाखो पर जो ये बूंदे पड़ी है कुछ-

वो आईना दिखती है.

गहराई में जो झाँको कभी

वो अंतरमन हिलती है.

क्या इन गलियो को तुमने- 

छु कर देखा है कभी?

धूल की चादर को यूही बदन पे-

तुमने ओढ़ा है कभी?

रूह बसती है इनमे. 

~*~

ॐ गं गणपतये नमः

Thank you Lord. Because of you, today I am at peace with myself. Only few more miles...haina? :)