1/2 boy 1/2 man

got this from a friend. its beautiful.thanks, k.
---

The average age of the army man is 19 years.
He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who, under normal
circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet
dry behind the ears, not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to
die for his country. He never really cared much for work and he would
rather wax his own car than wash his father's, but he has never
collected unemployment dole either.

He's a recent college graduate; he was probably an average student
from one of the Kendriya Vidyalayas, pursued some form of sport
activities, drives a ten year old jalopy, and has a steady girlfriend
that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to be waiting
when he returns from half a world away. He listens to rock and roll or
hip -hop or country or gazals or swing and a 155mm howitzer.
He is 5 or 7 kilos lighter now than when he was at home because he is
working or fighting the insurgents or standing gaurd on the icy
Himalayas from before dawn to well after dusk or he is at Mumbai
engaging the terrorists. He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing
is a pain for him, but he can field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and
reassemble it in less time in the dark. He can recite to you the
nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one
effectively if he must.

He digs foxholes and latrines and can apply first aid like a professional.
He can march until he is told to stop, or stop until he is told to march.
He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation, but he is not
without spirit or individual dignity. His pride and self-respect, he
does not lack.


He is self-sufficient.
He has two sets of combat dress: he washes one and wears the other.
He keeps his water bottle full and his feet dry.
He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle.
He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes, and fix his own
hurts.


If you're thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry,
his food. He'll even split his ammunition with you in the midst of
battle when you run low.

He has learned to use his hands like weapons and weapons like they
were his hands.
He can save your life - or take it, because that is his job.
He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay, and
still find ironic humor in it all.
He has seen more suffering and death than he should have in his short lifetime.

He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in
combat and is unashamed.

He feels every note of the Jana Gana Mana vibrate through his body
while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to
'square-away' those around him who haven't bothered to stand, remove
their hands from their pockets, or even stop talking.

In an odd twist, day in and day out, far from home, he defends their
right to be disrespectful.
Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is
paying the price for our freedom.



Beardless or not, he is not a boy.
He is your nation's Fighting Man that has kept this country free and
defended your right to Freedom. He has experienced deprivation and
adversity, and has seen his buddies falling to bullets and maimed and
blown.



But,

He has asked nothing in return, except our acknowledgment of his
existence and understanding of his human needs.
Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect and admiration
with his blood.
And now we even have women over there in danger, doing their part in
this tradition of going to War when our nation calls us to do so.

As you go to bed tonight, remember this shot. . ..
A short lull, a little shade and a picture of loved ones in their helmets.

Prayer wheel for our military... please don't break it Please send
this on after a short prayer.
Prayer Wheel

'Lord, hold our Indian Armed Forces in your loving hands.
Protect them as they protect us.
Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform
for us in our time of need.

Amen.'

When you receive this, please stop for a moment and say a prayer
for our soldier, sailors , and airmen , in all frontiers
There is nothing attached...
This can be very powerful...
Of all the gifts you could give a Soldier, Sailor, or Airman,
prayer is the very best one.

I can't break this one, sorry.
Pass it on to everyone and pray for the Indian Soldier. And unlike
your 'Babus' or 'Netas'.



He will always do you proud!!!


-the girl.

...

Into your tender arms, I wanna go to sleep,
Into the slumber long and deep,

I want U to be happy, I want you to be free,
even if it means staying away from me,

Who says it cant get any worse than this,
If it gets fulfilled it's someone else's wish,

I am running out of time and I am running out of life,
And I am getting used to living on the edge of the knife,

When you don't wanna cry ur eyes become watery,
When you don't need money, you go and win a lottery,

This is what I hate about this system of society,
When you have only a rose, what they need is variety!

-the girl.

a few lines..

Some lines which i believe in:

What have you lost for which you weep? What did you bring with you, which you have lost? What did you produce, which has perished?
You did not bring anything when you were born.
You came empty handed and you will go the same way. Whatever is yours today, it was somebody else's yesterday and it will be somebody else's tomorrow.

Change is the law of the universe.

- Bhagavad Gita


I want you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do.

- To kill a mockingbird (one of my favourites)


And of course, the immortal lines of Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you
If all men count with you, but none too much
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

- Rudyard Kipling


A conversation from the Matrix:
"
Agent Smith: I'd like to share a revelation that I've had during my time here. It came to me when I tried to classify your species. I realized that you're not actually mammals. Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with the surrounding environment, but you humans do not. You move to an area, and you multiply, and multiply, until every natural resource is consumed. The only way you can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. A virus. Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet, you are a plague, and we are the cure.
"

- By the way, I am not a misanthrope, although parts of the previous conversation are sadly true.

-the girl.

My way..

I am not a star.
There is no halo over my head.
Fate doesn't like the colour of my eyes.
Struggle and strife are old friends of mine.

Who am I?
I am survival.
I am guts.
I am pride.
The more I sweat the more I shine.
I like odds.
Especially when they are stacked against me.

Because there will be a day when I'll stare them in the eye
and smile.
The smile of the one who's pulled it off.

I am the one who'll have deep lines on my face someday.
And it'll make me look good
when I laugh.
Because that is the day
I will fear no fear
And taste sweat that is sweet.

And look back for the very first time and say,

I did it my way...
The long hard way.

-the girl.

i have realised that..

freedom is not a word, it’s a feeling.

its what you feel when there are no doubts, barriers or worries. you can see freedom in a boy flying a kite, a little girl playing in the mud or a man feeling the breeze on his face.

freedom is what you have when you feel confident, knowing that you have done everything possible to ensure a secure future for those you love. and real freedom is not restricted to a particular day; it lives in every single moment of joy that touches your life.

-the girl.

is it?

Is it crazy to visualize your life with someone who has no clue?
Is it crazy to be a hopeless romantic fool?
Is it crazy to give yourself migraine headaches from thinking deep thoughts that don’t matter to anyone else but you?
Is it crazy to ignore the present and live in the future?
Is it crazy to have an imaginary relationship with someone?
Is it crazy to rampage through your cupboard and throw out all clothes of color and live life in black with occasional hint of white?
Is it crazy to listen to “ring of fire” on repeat for 24 hours and pretend you are june carter cash?
Is it crazy to have no regard for d present that is completely in love and devoted to you?
Is it crazy to categorize life in one category only : future?
Is it crazy to wake up whispering his name?
Is it crazy to think you are crazy and enjoy it?
Is it crazy to want something so bad that you cant eat or sleep, you cant breathe?
Is it crazy to keep yourself a little drunk all day to keep your unstable mind stable??

Is it?

- the girl.

roads to peace..

Why is there blood everywhere
On this long winding road?
O' towering son of Kabul,
Wherein goes this treacherous road?

This road will take us to peace, my friend
But when are these blood stains washed, I ask
Pensive and grim, someday there will be peace
he says. amidst the workers at their task.

Someday, safe will be our women, they will live
Someday, happy will be our children, they will live
Someday, rested we shall all be, we will live
Live, we all shall, and doves will fly.

Insha'Allah, may your words come true, but.
No buts, Someday for the homeless, castles there will be
for the hungry, all delicacies and all free
Yes!, I say the city will be built as you see

For the homeless, castles there will be,
Every brick as strong as a painful memory.
For the hungry, all heavenly delicacies,
Eating while they talk of those old miseries.

Insha'Allah, Someday, may there peace, be!
Insha'Allah, Someday, may there peace, be!

- the girl.

down there

posted a saved draft right now which must be a few posts below.

have a look..'one last time'..

-the girl.

thoughts..private ones.

another mail received article..by aks.

The right to privacy, like most other rights, reflects a simple human need. A life without privacy is unthinkable. Some people need more privacy than others, but everyone needs some time alone to be accountable only to oneself, time to think, to reconsider the things one believes and the reasons for those beliefs.
No two people develop feelings or think or grow in the same way. Protecting the right to privacy in any relationship is one way of instructing that each person can get his bearings and be himself.

People need a private life, a private world of their own, places where they can see friends, have conversations, maintain cherished interests, hobbies, amusements and sports; places where they can continue to be and find other parts of the person they want to be and need to be, besides the parts that the person they are living with brings out. The right to privacy is the right to take a vacation alone, to spend time alone with yourself each day, each week, each year.

Sometimes asserting one’s right to privacy feels threatening to the other person. When relationships become frayed and loose ends, partners have a way of regarding such requests for privacy as a wish to desert. Sometimes they are, but even then each person still has the right to be by himself to think the situation through alone. When the trust needed to keep a relationship working, wears so thin that privacy is compromised, the relationship suffers doubly, for then it is not only difficult to be each other’s but also a problem to be one’s own!

You have a right to keep part of your life secret, any part. Your thoughts, actions, wishes are yours to keep private if you want. Not all thoughts need to be or should be shared. Openess in a relationship is a desirable goal but not in all things or at all times.. Sometimes a partner needs more time to think before he/she shares. Being open indiscriminately can be an excuse to be crude and to hurt the other person with information that is shared only as an act of anger. Wishing to keep a thought secret is merely a way of saying you are unsure of what you are feeling at the moment and do not wish to share it yet.

When there is no privacy in a relationship there can be no real intimacy. Only two people who are whole, independent beings in their own right can give to each other. Only of a person has the right to refuse to give is his gift worth taking. If one person is always obligated to be giving there is no delight for the person being given to.

If one has no right to privacy what joy is there in sharing?

-----

-the girl.

My Religion.Your Anthem.

It is a beautiful thing. Between you and me. Between the distance. Beyond love. Beyond hate. Silence. Our language. Your anthem. When did it start? The language of silence. Between you and me. I fail to trace it back in time. Was it after the first smile? Was it after the last exchange of glances? Was it in the pathway? Was it in a dream? Silence. Your anthem.

I fear to sleep. Not that I will be hounded by nightmares. Not because I might skip a dream. I fear to sleep. Maybe because I might miss the silence. Maybe I would stop listening to your silence. But this journey goes on. Between you and me. On parallel lines. In silence. Your anthem.

When you walk down the lane. I see the charm you sprinkle all over. I hear the silence that you throw only at me. I search for your eyes. Hoping at least they will speak to me. Your eyes miss my existence. I stay there patient. In silence. Your anthem.

I'm sitting here. Under the scorching sun. Looking into the bright sky. Squinting my eyes. Wishing at the clear sky. For the rain. You love the rain. I could love it too. Just because you will smile when it rains. Just because you will smile at me.

Sometimes I wake up from my daze. Thinking you would have spoken a word or two. That I could overhear your voice. Just a bit. Just enough to cease the noise within me. With your silence. Your anthem.

Have you noticed that the best conversations that we have ever had was the silence that we share? Isn't it beautiful? I think so. Why is that I still love the silent conversation? Why is that I still love to catch you unawares when you look at me from a distant planet? That moment. Those fluttering eyes move away from me. Staring silence into my soul.

You stole my shadow. I'm here trying to steal your silence. I dreamt. Of a clear blue sky. A pristine beach. Untouched shells on the sand. You. Me. Us. I woke up. I still saw the clear blue sky. You. Me. And silence. Your anthem. These were times I wished I never woke up. Woke up to face the silence.

I look at the clock. Time flees. I stare at it in dismay. I pulled it out. Crashed it on the floor. I sit beside the shattered pieces. Time still kept ticking. Out of my life. Out of this story. Maybe I should break the silence. Maybe I should replace the clock. Maybe I need to replace my life. For all the silence shared. Silence. Your anthem.

I chase that tiny smile of yours. The curve on your lips. There too swings the culprit. Silence. I see it around you. Sad. That only I bear the brunt of your silence. Your anthem. I look at your anklet that you wear only on your left leg. A tiny bell clings to it. You walk by. I listen to that. At least it wouldn't shy away and throw silence on me. How blessed am I. The tinkles of your trinkets silence my moment. My dream. The loudness of your silence deafens my moment. My existence.

This silence. Sometimes is deafening. Sometimes gives me the high. Sometimes pokes me. Sometimes strengthens me. Most of the times it hurts me. But I know. This journey is long. I just will travel along with a song. A silent song.

Coffee in my hand. Search in my eyes. You stand beside me. I miss you so much. I see the beauty of how you stir your coffee. Hurriedly. How you stir me. Silently. I smile. You smile too. Silently. I wait for one single word. I get many instead. All in silence. I fail to decipher. I sit there stirring my coffee. While you walk away stirring my soul. In silence. Your anthem.

Will we break this silence? I hope not. Maybe I have started to like it this way. Maybe I feel this is the way of my life. Your life. Our life. In silence. One fine day. If the silence was ever to be broken. I would miss it. Those quick moments of silence brushing each other. Those long hours of conversations. Mere silence. Promise me. Just this. Just this time. That this silence will not be broken. It has become a habit. A daily affair. My religion. Your anthem.

-the girl.

moral of the story is..

A forward that i received today, and i really liked it..so just for a read, here:

My wife called, 'How long will you be with that newspaper? Will youcome here and make your darling daughter eat her food?

I tossed the paper away and rushed to the scene.

My only daughter Sindu looked frightened; tears were welling up in her eyes. In front of her was a bowl filled to its brim with curd rice. Sindu is a nice child, quite intelligent for her age.

I cleared my throat, and picked up the bowl. 'Sindu, darling, why don't youtake a few mouthful of this curd rice? Just for Dad's sake, dear.

Sindu softened a bit, and wiped her tears with the back of her hands. "Ok,Dad. I will eat - not just a few mouthfuls, but the whole lot of this.

But, you should...' Sindu hesitated. 'Dad, if I eat this entire curd Rice,will you give me whatever I ask for?

Promise '. I covered the pink soft hand extended by my daughter withmine, and clinched the deal.

Now I became a bit anxious.

'Sindu dear, you shouldn't insist on getting a computer or any such expensive items. Dad doesnot have that kind of money right now. Ok?'

'No, Dad. I do not want anything expensive'. Slowly and painfully, shefinished eating the whole quantity.

I was silently angry with my wife and my mother for forcing my child to eat something that she detested.

After the ordeal was through, Sindu came to me with her eyes wide withexpectation. All our attention was on her.

'Dad, I want to have my head shaved off, this Sunday!' was her demand.

'Atrocious!' shouted my wife, 'A girl child having her head shaved off? Impossible!' 'Never in our family!' My mother rasped.

'She has been watching too much of television. Our culture is getting totally spoiled with these TV programs!'

'Sindu darling, why don't you ask for something else? We will be sad seeing you with a clean-shaven head.'

'Please, Sindu, why don't you try to understand our feelings?' I tried to plead with her.

'Dad, you saw how difficult it was for me to eat that Curd Rice'. Sindu was in tears. 'And you promised to grant me whatever I ask for. Now, you are going back on your words. Was it not you who told me the story of King Harishchandra, and its moral that we should honor our promises no matterwhat?'

It was time for me to call the shots.

'Our promise must be kept.'

'Are you out your mind?' chorused my mother and wife.

'No. If we go back on our promises, she will never learn to honor her own.

Sindu, your wish will be fulfilled.'

With her head clean-shaven, Sindu had a round-face, and her eyes looked big and beautiful.

On Monday morning, I dropped her at her school. It was a sight to watch my hairless Sindu walking towards her classroom.

She turned around and waved.I waved back with a smile.

Just then, a boy alighted from a car, and shouted, 'Sinduja, please wait for me!'

What struck me was the hairless head of that boy. 'May be, that is the in-stuff', I thought.

'Sir, your daughter Sinduja is great indeed!'

Without introducing herself,a lady got out of the car, and continued,' that boy who is walking along with your daughter is my son Harish. He is suffering from... leukemia.'

She paused to muffle her sobs.

'Harish could not attend the school for the whole of the last month. He lost all his hair due to the side effects of the chemotherapy. He refused to come back to school fearing the unintentional but cruel teasing of the schoolmates.
Sinduja visited him last week, and promised him that she will take care of the teasing issue. But, I never imagined she would sacrifice her lovely hair for the sake of my son!
Sir,you and your wife are blessed to have such a noble soul as your daughter.'

I stood transfixed and then, I wept. 'My little Angel, you are teaching me how self-less real love is!'

The happiest people on this planet are not those who live on their own terms but are those who change their terms for the ones whom they love..
----------
i guess, forwards aren't that bad and boring a thing to receive and read through, right?

-the girl.

One last time..

“Why do we keep repeating this same argument again and again?” Mansi asked as she placed the food on the table.

“That is exactly what I want to know too. It has been a year and we still are arguing over everything” Siddarth screamed on top of his voice, sitting on the couch and switching channels.

Mansi walked into the living room and looked at him. She wasn’t looking beautiful. There was anger on her face. Frustration too. Siddarth didn’t want to see her.

“I’m tired Siddarth.” She said and wiped the sweat off her face.

Siddarth remained silent.

“I’m here talking and screaming and trying to make a point and what the hell is so interesting in that TV?” she screamed at him again. This time it was for his nonchalance.

“What do you want me to do?” Siddarth switched off the TV and looked at her.

“What do you want me to do?” she repeated the question.

Siddarth was silent again.

“This is it! I’m dead tired of your silence and definitely will go mad in just about a couple of days or even hours” she said.

“I’ve been trying but we always end up arguing over everything”

“Trying? Now that is news” she responded.

“What? Are you telling me that I don’t even try to keep this relationship going?” she had rubbed him on the wrong side and it clearly showed in his defensive voice.

She remained silent this time. He walked to her and held her by her shoulders.

“Look at me and tell me that I never tried”, he asked her shaking her in rage.

“You are hurting me like you have always done.” She said.

“Hurt? Gosh. What are we getting into now?”

“Yes Siddarth! I am hurt and it is sad that you haven’t seen it in me at all. And I’m tired of all this” she screamed as she pushed him away.

Siddarth saw someone else before him, not the Mansi he had been seeing for the past one year.

“Like you never hurt me. It wasn’t always a one-sided argument. You can’t blame me for everything” Siddarth screamed back at her.

The blame game continued for few more minutes and finally they had to culminate at a point, which they had no idea that it would be their last argument ever.

“I can’t take it any more Siddarth. Just leave me. Get out of this house” Mansi screamed on top of her voice. Silence fell upon the house and Siddarth stood there beside a woman who just wanted him to walk away from her and her life.

“Leave you for today or forever? Is that what you had wanted for a long time now?” he asked. His voice was not cracking yet. There was still anger lurking within his throat.

“Don’t think you can get away with technicalities by pulling out things from my mouth. Today or forever, just leave me.”

Siddarth did not look at her anymore. He picked his jacket and walked to the door. His anger had hit the bottom and she knew that, because he didn’t bang the door behind him, instead he just left it open. He surely wasn’t angry, but lost.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One week later.

Siddarth was at his office checking his personal emails every few seconds, hoping Mansi would have sent an email. She didn’t and he didn’t send her one either. He was getting impatient. Day one, he thought it was over forever. Day four, he thought it was a nightmare. Day seven, he knew it was all a false alarm and he wanted to get on with life, with Mansi. He wasn’t sure how to approach her. He lost the confidence of approaching his own girlfriend for the fear that she might just confirm that the breakup was for real.

He composed an email with no salutation or closure.

“Is this for real?”

He waited for 5 minutes. There wasn’t any response. Usually she responded that quick. But whenever they had a fight, she would respond in 10 mins. That was their delivery times to respond to email or SMS! He couldn’t wait. He sent the same message to her through SMS. There was no reply from her for 15 mins. He waited for 30 mins and left for a meeting with his team.

Beep.

He couldn’t pull out his mobile to read the response during the meeting. He couldn’t resist. He excused himself and walked out of the meeting hall just to read the SMS. It was from his bank confirming the receipt of his credit card payment. Blood shot to his head and he walked back into the meeting hall. Siddarth went through hell those two hours at the meeting.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mansi kept clicking F9 on her outlook mailbox every other second to fetch new mails. She never had any until during one of those frantic clicks; she saw a mail from Siddarth with no subject. She frantically opened the mail to read his one-liner and was greatly dejected. She did not know the answer to his question. She stayed there staring at the monitor wondering what to reply.

Beep.

She read the same message on SMS. She immediately typed a message in response.

“I hope it isn’t.”

Just then her team mate Rhea stood beside her. She quickly closed the message thinking she had pressed the Send button. Instead her message was stored in the Drafts. She waited for his response. For an hour. And two. There wasn’t any. Mansi went through hell those two hours when he was at the meeting.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hours, one after the other went by swiftly. Siddarth’s mind was pregnant with Mansi’s thoughts and her silence. He couldn’t spend a moment devoid of her thoughts. Her silence was more torturous than any of their arguments so far. The thought that it was their final breakup was beginning to set into his mind. He began to have visions of the dead end that was ahead. She wasn’t responding and his mind wasn’t either.

She sat beside the phone expecting his call. At least a response to her SMS. She wanted him to take the next move and felt satisfied that she had done her part.

It was almost 1 AM and Siddarth tossed and turned. Event the foam on his bed and pillow kept chanting her name. She was there all around him. He was enraged and quickly picked up his mobile and typed an SMS to her.

“If it is fair that you walked out of my life, it is fair to take away your memories from me”

He pressed the Send button and then in a fraction of a second he realized he shouldn’t have sent such a hasty message to her. His mind battled the fact that she could have had reasons for not having responded to his SMS, but his heart was still angry with the same fact.

As soon as her mobile beeped, she sprang on it. She opened it drowsily to read the message. She rubbed her eyes again to decipher the message, as if it was coded with lots of hidden meaning and that it had to be decoded to extract the essence of it. She failed. She was angry and replied instantly.

“Yes, sounds like a fair deal. And FYI, I didn’t walk out of your life”

She pressed Send.

He knew she would respond to that SMS of his, and as expected his mobile beeped.

He kept looking at the message and didn’t know how to respond. He called her immediately. She answered the phone but did not utter a word. He didn’t either. There was silence at both ends. She could hear him breathe and he could hear the noise of the fan in her room.

“Where do we start?” he asked not able to withstand the silence for long.

“With SMS?” she said as if that was the expected answer or rather question.

He was silent.

“When do we start?” she asked.“

Right away” he said.

They hung up as if the long awaited conversation was over after hours. This was their shortest conversation on phone all of that one year of seeing each other.

Siddarth looked at his Inbox on his mobile. There were more than 300 messages from Mansi. He had moved them to a separate folder, all the special messages from her. “slept?”, “ate?”, “meeting?”, “miss u dodo”, and all those special one words. He hesitantly selected them all to be deleted. He couldn’t get to do it. He wanted to read those messages for one last time. He did that night. One after the other and pressed Delete after reading them. His mobile was clean of her messages. It was the beginning to erase her from his life.

Mansi read it too, message after message. She wanted to SMS him and ask if it was really fair. On second thoughts, she deleted them all. She realized a part of him was on the Sent folder as well. She cleaned it out completely. Her mobile felt light, but her heart was heavier than the breakup night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What madness?” Siddarth’s colleague Aman laughed.

“I know! I woke up and realized what difference it makes. Nothing. It could just have remained on my mobile” Siddarth said.

“That is not my point. Deleting SMS from a mobile phone erases your past with her? What crap! Get a grip man!”

“Yea, you are right. I think there are so many other things to erase before time erases my mind of her”

“You are definitely dazed. You need a vacation. You need a break” Aman said sensing the depressed tone of Siddarth.“

”What about mails? It should go away too. All of them” Siddarth said.

“Oh come on. Just take a break, go somewhere far away, get yourself some fresh air and come back to think of all these” Aman pleaded.

“The mails will have to go away too”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Maybe that was a good move. You at least found the courage to delete all the messages from your mobile. You will survive” Rhea said.

“Hmmm…. but it hurt to do that. Maybe it was just madness to do such a thing. I just lost them all in a jiffy. I can’t get back those messages that I saved for over a year of togetherness.” Mansi lamented.

“You are just going through the breakup phase. You will feel lighter after sometime. When you look back, you will realize that you actually didn’t lose much” Rhea comforted.

Mansi looked at her mobile. She knew it would beep less hereafter. She wouldn’t get those midnight messages from him asking if she was asleep or thinking of him. She wouldn’t get missed calls just for fun when she was in official meetings. She wouldn’t like to set caller tunes just for him. It was over. The romance over the mobile phone. She put the mobile on silent mode and dumped it into her bag.

She stared at her monitor and saw a mail from Siddarth with no subject. She immediately opened it.

“If it was fair to erase all SMS, what about emails?”

She was hurt again. It was her turn to bear the brunt. She suggested SMS earlier and he responded suggesting emails.

She replied.

“Ok.”

He saw her reply and got an idea on his dying mind and limping soul. He immediately replied to her.

“I don’t want to believe that you have erased me from your inbox. I need proof”She responded.

“Proof? Like what?”

He knew that was coming from her. He replied immediately.

“7 PM today at Coffee and Stories café. Bring our laptops. Delete emails right before our eyes”

She didn’t like his reply and his thought of distrust.

He liked the idea, because he missed her terribly and he wanted to see her. He thought this would be the best possible way to get to meet her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They sat there with their laptops as if they were tech junkies who can’t get off their laptop and internet. After all they were just one among those many other internet freaks in that café.

She showed him her inbox. She had filtered all her emails based on his email ID. There were more than 100s of emails from him. All those that were sent during those early days of courting and the days when he was traveling. He turned around his laptop to show her emails. He had created a folder to filter all her emails and the folder name read “life”. She looked at him as if to love him that moment to see a folder with that name.

“Every time a mail falls into that folder, I think my life gained more strength. It is like the life that you gain on Playstation games. The more mails I get the more chances I have with life. That is what I kept thinking.” he said as he selected all the emails in that folder.

She selected all his emails in her inbox and waited for him to speak.

“Drain my life?” he asked not looking at her.

She clicked delete on her screen as he looked at her monitor. He clicked Delete instantly too. She cleared the Trash folder as well. He gave a sheepish smile and cleared the Trash folder too.

She closed the laptop and asked, “What next?”

“Your turn” he said as he sank into the couch with his arms folded as if to close upon himself.

“Loads of pics of yours and ours” she said.

“Printed or digital?” he asked.

“Both” she said and quickly opened her laptop again to gather all the pictures.

In another 10 mins they erased the contents in their laptops that would remind them of each other.

Although they were fighting each other’s egos, they were beginning to feel emotionally drained.

“It is your turn” he said.

“For?”

“To tell what is next in line”

She was silent. She couldn’t understand if he was mocking at the situation or if he was being serious.

“Cards and gifts?” she asked.

“Yes, I guess those too” he said.

“Tomorrow same place?” she asked.

“Carry them all over here?”

“Ok, I will drop them at your place” she said.

They parted their ways, this time with lighter laptops, but with a much heavier hearts. This game of breakup was tearing them apart in the true sense.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She walked into his house like that was her first time. She sat at the edge of the couch. He clearly understood how things had changed between them during those few days of not being themselves. From strangers to lovers and now back to strangers.

“You are not hurting the couch. Sit comfortably” he said.

She sank into it and did not smile at his snide remark. She had a pretty red bag beside her, full of his gifts and cards.

“You look like Santa” he smiled at her.

She did not smile at him although she wanted to.

“Give me mine” she said.

“Give me mine” he said.

“Are we behaving like kids?” she asked as she stood up and walked to the window.

“I don’t know. But I still wonder why are we doing all this? Will this help getting over each other? Will it erase all our memories?”

“Maybe yes. Maybe no. Just that, when I open my cupboard, I won’t see your things anymore and that means less of your thoughts in the future”

“Hmm.. makes sense. But what happens to the Mansi who runs around my mind?” he asked.

“She will fade away too in time.” She said.

He walked into his room and brought out a carton full of her gifts and cards. It seemed to weigh more than his gifts to her. She turned around, walked to the couch to pick her red bag. He placed the carton beside the couch. She emptied the red bag on the couch. He remembered all those that he saw in the heap. She had also saved up tissue papers that they had scribbled during their long dinner outings, the cabin bag tag of the flight that they traveled together and all those tiny pieces of him. She began to take her gifts and photos from his carton and trashed it into her bag. He sat down on the couch looking at her from behind. Tears rolled down her eyes as he sat there oblivious to it. She picked them all and walked to the door. She stood there for a sign from him, not looking back. He turned towards the window, other side of the door. She gently closed the door behind and walked out. He stood up and walked like a zombie to the window to see her get into the cab. She did not look out of the car. He saw her wiping her tears. He couldn’t cry. He didn’t want to drain his emotions. If he did, it would be the day he will get over her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Another week passed by.

SMS. Emails. Phone calls. They were devoid of all that. There was nothing at home, in their wallets, bags, anywhere, to remind them of each other. It was just their pregnant minds.

Every time Siddarth was tempted to send an SMS to her, he would end up saving it on draft. One evening, he simply deleted her number from his mobile.

That same evening, she was browsing through her mobile to find some message from Siddarth that she might have missed to delete. While running through the Draft folder, she noticed the unsent message to him that could have eased a lot of things two weeks back. She simply deleted that message too.

She couldn’t hold her dejection that fate had played a trick. She immediately called him. He looked at his phone and saw the number flashing. It usually flashed “Life is calling”, this time it was just a number. He knew it was her.He answered the phone and stayed silent.

“Hi” she said in a feeble tone.

“Is there anything else to erase from my life? I’m trying hard to get you off my mind. I fail” he said.

She remained silent with tears brimming in her ears.

“Can I ask you one last thing?” Siddarth asked.

“Hmm…”“Can I see you one last time? I want to be with you. I want my Mansi for one last time. I won’t ask for more. Just one last time” he pleaded. His eyes were hurt and tears wouldn’t surface.

“Hmm…” she said.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She had cooked dinner for him. He was surprised to see all his favorite dishes decked up on the dining table. She had gone for her shower while he walked around the kitchen. He saw the mug by the sink, the one that she had gifted him. She must have started using it. He walked into the living room and sat on the couch. Her dupatta was on the other couch. He picked that up and smelled her in it. He missed her so much. So near yet so far and it hurt him so much. Just then the smell got stronger and fresher. He quickly turned around to see Mansi standing beside him. She was draped in a pretty blood red saree that accentuated her body that pretty evening. He hid the dupatta behind him and threw a sheepish smile. She smiled at him after a long time. His heart melted. She leaned over him and ran her hand behind him to pull the dupatta from his back. He felt her close to him. The freshness on her body and the wetness on her hair hurt his senses. He kissed her on her neck before she could move away from him with her dupatta. She looked at him into his eyes and turned away. He felt embarrassed.

“Nobody is perfect Mansi. Everybody has their faults. They live with it. Life is full of imperfections” Siddarth blurted out and killed the silence that lurked in the mildly lit room.

She turned around not expecting a sudden statement from Siddarth.

“But you were the one with all your rules. That was all about perfection again” she said.

“Maybe even trying to go by rules is also imperfection in me. So why can’t I live with that?”

“Exactly. Why can’t I live with my imperfections and why can’t we live with each other’s imperfections?” Mansi was beginning to get hysterical.

“I’m tired of seeing a stranger in you.” Siddarth said.

“You wanted to be with me one last time. I’m all yours tonight Siddarth”

He was silent. He opened his arms for her to run to him. She didn’t. She sat on the couch and turned the other side. He walked to her, knelt beside her and placed his hands over her crossed legs. Tears rolled down her eyes. He stood up and lifted her. He moved close to her and held her face by her chin.

“Look at me, let me see myself in those tears. It was because me, right?” he asked in a comforting tone.

She looked at him with eyes welling up.

“This is not my Mansi. She won’t cry this bad. She would rather hit me and make me whine in pain” he said and smiled at her.

She smiled through her tears.“One last kiss?” he asked.

She did not reply.

He moved close to her and kissed her gently on her lips. They lost their senses briefly in that moment of togetherness. They kissed for a very long time, until the tears in her eyes dried. He smiled.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Before kissing you, I promised myself that I will continue to kiss you until the tears dry up” he smiled.

“Dodo!” she scolded him.

He moved away from her, but still holding her close.

“Thank you for that one last kiss” he said.

She remained silent. She wished it wasn’t the last.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He sat beside the window on an empty compartment of the local train that morning. He smiled to himself thinking about last night and the last kiss.

She sat on her bed still thinking about last night’s last kiss and the conversations thereafter. She saw the empty coffee cups beside her. Her lips still tasted coffee and the room smelled of his cologne.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Previous night.

“We have erased messages, emails, photographs, gifts, and what not. Technically everything that would remind us of each other” Siddarth said.

“Hmm.. she nodded her head, resting on his bosom like a sleepy child.“There is nothing left of each other. Just memories on our minds, which will fade in time”

“Hmm..” she said.

“So we are almost empty. Back to square one ,where we were just strangers in each other’s lives” he said.

She remained silent.

“And the last kiss is also done with. We are at the last few moments of togetherness”

She looked up at him as if to ask, what he was trying to convey.

He looked at her and there was hesitance in his eyes and his throat was trying to swallow words that his heart wanted to utter.

“Tell it” she whispered.

“Now that we are almost strangers in this night, can we start over afresh? All over again?” he finally blurted.

“I would have killed you if you hadn’t asked me this?” she said and hugged him.

“Phew!”

He hugged her even closer and smiled.

“Hey!” he called out to her.

“Hmm?” she asked faintly still in his hug.

“How you doing?” he asked in Joey’s tone.

She laughed.

Next day, they woke up to smell coffee, together in each other’s arms.They were in love, all over again.

-the girl.

letting go

how wealthy can you be if
you are afraid to let go of your wealth ?

how successful can you be if
you are constantly nagged
by the fear of faliure?

how loved can you feel if
you constantly seek
reassurance that you are?

what can love mean if
you are afraid to set
the beloved free?

how beautiful can you be if
you walk down the street
and feel reassured by
admiring glances from strangers?

what self worth do you have if
you seek it in other's eyes?

what can abundance mean if
you desire more?

how can you have anything
unless you are willing to
let it go ?

how can you live
any moment
without knowing
that it is already ceased to be?

-the girl.

a few words

what brought us together...
might remain unspoken...
what held us together...
might be worn off and broken...
even if your wave is different...
as i felt...was mine...
now...i want our paths to cross...
waitin for my time...

-the girl.

My Many Indias..

On the eve of Republic Day, a friend gifted me a CD containing a haunting, goose-pimpling rendition of Jana Gana Mana as arranged and conducted by A R Rahman and featuring Shiv Kumar Sharma, Hari Prasad Chaurasia, Amjad Ali Khan, Lata Mangeshkar, Asha Bhosale, Pandit Bhimsen Joshi, Pandit Jasraj, Jagjit Singh, Parveen Sultana, Bhupen Hazarika, Balasubrahmanyam, and a galaxy of other stars, from all over the country.

That music, played against a backdrop ranging from Ladakh to Kanyakumari, moved me as few things have done: it were as though the country of which I am a part, and which is an inextricable part of me was singing of itself to me. What did I think of when I thought of India? What random impressions conjured my many Indias?

India is vast space; space to accommodate the clamour of giant cities, teeming with the seething energy of millions and the silence of empty solitudes. India is space; space to include the pilgrim and the politician, the poet and the revolutionary, the street urchin and the merchant prince, ahimsa and nuclear might, 3,000 years and the 21st century.

India is the express highway thundering with traffic and the slip road beside it with the sign 'For camels, elephants and bullock carts'. India is mega dams and factories, call centres and shopping malls, and the voices raised in protest against all these and more.

India is a colour TV, garlanded with marigolds and a picture of Lakshmi on top, playing MTV while grandmother counts the beads of her mala and grandchildren dream of US green cards. India is the roar and tumult of democracy and the forgotten face of a forgotten neta on an election poster stuck on the crumbling mud wall of a village deserted by all but the ghost of hunger.

India is the faceless anonymity of cities where neighbours don't know the names of neighbours and it is the 'Ram, Ram' of timeless greeting exchanged by strangers who pass each other on a lonely path.

India is the smell of incense and ancient stone, of parched earth when the first drops of rain fall, of the dust and sweat of rattletrap buses, of the sweet, milky tea served in an earthen bowl by a 'chai , chaiwala !' on the whistle-stop railway stations of night.

India is the crowded bazaar where two dozen languages and half a dozen faiths negotiate the day-to-day transactions of buying and selling, and haggling and cheating, and quarrelling, and, above all, always above all, living together.

India is the cadences of Nehru's 'Tryst with Destiny' speech, and India is the minimalist squiggle by the cartoonist Ranga which in a single unbroken line captures the iconic essence of the greatest Indian of modern times, and India is Husain's portrait of the faceless face of a woman draped in a white, blue-bordered sari.

India is Awara hoon! playing on a scratchy, wind-up gramophone. Dev Anand in a rakishly tilted Jewel Thief cap, the carthorse's hooves going clip-clop in rhythm with Dilip Kumar singing in Naya Daur , it is Madhubala and Nargis and Waheeda Rehman, and Guru Dutt and Madhuri Dixit and Shah Rukh Khan leading the women's hockey team to victory and the Big B and the two-storey-high traffic-stopping Bollywood poster in Trafalgar Square, London.

India is much more than a million mutinies now; it is a billion-plus narratives of itself, waiting to be told. Not just once upon a time, but once upon a future...

-the girl.

the navigator.

"Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.


It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul."

-the girl.

you stole my shadow..

I sit there on that stone bench staring at the distant you. You look like a dream. A poem. A dream. A dreamy poem. Are you for real? I sit there spending every moment. Every hour. Looking at you. Sometimes looking for you. I find you. I lose you. I dream. I continue doing it. For me. For us. I come to that stone bench every day. I simply sit there in silence. I sit there expecting you to turn around and break the silence. I fail. The leaves fall on me. Sometimes it rains. Sometimes it shines. All I can feel is the snow. Cold. Chilling. Deadly. I pursue. I wait. I dream. In silence.

Is it autumn? Is it winter? Is it spring? Or is it just you? How long should I sit here. Counting the leaves. Chasing a dream. Wishing at stars. Warring at every heartbeat. Where did you go? When did you come? Why am I dazed? Why am I silent? I smiled at you. Waved at you. Took a step or two to sit beside you. I made my mind. Tamed my heart. Took the steps. Almost a million ones. Walked up to you. Was I blinded? By your smile? Or was it the glint in your eyes. Or was it mine? I moved closer. I lost my senses. Briefly. Was it the aroma that you carry? Was it just my sense that had a lapse?

It took a moment or even two. To push those clouds that crowded around me. To chase those butterflies that crowded you. You were gone. Just like that. You disappeared like you never were there. Into nowhere. Everything seemed empty around me. Everything seemed like a painting on canvas. A canvas without you. I stood there like a painter who had just chopped off his hands after painting a masterpiece. I looked around. I searched. Not all over. Just inside the canvas. Where you belonged.

I walked back to the stone bench and perched on it. Lost you somewhere. Lost my heart. My mind. I continue to sit there in silence. Waiting for you. Waiting for the moment. To see you. To be with you. Not a lifetime. Just a moment. I would die a million times. For that one moment. One word. Or just one moment of silence together. I would die a million times.

What went wrong? Why am I still waiting? For you to come back? For that one single moment of silence? I’ve been awake all night. Looking at the moon. You might have been looking at it too at the same time. Just a consolation thought. The stars laughed at me. I felt at home. Missed you. I sit there looking at the sun rise. Blinds me. My mind. Another day. Brand new. The wait continues. On that stone bench. In silence.

I hear the dried leaves whisper. Your arrival. My dawn. I turn around. I see no one. I turn back. I see you on that stone bench. Near. Yet so far. Ecstasy. I want to run. To you. From me. I take a step forward. One backward. Fear of losing you again. For now. Forever. I sit there in silence.
Watching you play with the dew drops. Leaves. My heart. I see it running around your feet. My heart. It likes you. I think. Yea, maybe. I smile. I wait.

I see someone. A shadow. Walks towards you. Sits beside you. My heart goes invisible. I see you. Him. Your laughter. Your hair fluttering in the breeze. Your smile. Your eyes. You. Where am I? I thought I was all around you. In a moment, I felt myself invisible. Like I was dead and gone. Ages ago. Never to return. To see you like that. I still wait for the shadow beside you to disappear. It did. Few years later. I continue to sit there. On the stone bench. In silence.It hurts. To wait. To not have the courage to walk to you. For the fear of losing you. For the fear you will disappear. Why can’t I just sit here? On the stone bench. In silence.

And watch the moon smile and the sun rise. All alone. Yet with you. A little far away. But I make up my mind. I took few steps forward. Many steps backward. A million times. Finally I stood there. Behind you. My shadow fell right before you. You feared. You didn’t look back. You decided to go away. I moved. You froze. You wanted to run. I was ready to chase. You sat again. Looking at my shadow. In silence. I stood there. Raising my hand. Placing it on your shoulder. You didn’t react. I moved closer. I wanted to whisper in your ears. A million stories. Defeating the 1001 Arabian nights. I moved closer. I whispered. You didn’t react. My eyes welled up. A tear fell on your pristine body and ran down your hand. You looked up. It drizzled. Camouflaged my tears. I retrieved. I walked back. To the stone bench. Sat there in silence. Looked at you. And my shadow that stayed with you.

I smile. Through those tears. I live here with your memories. You live there with my shadow. I sit here in silence. You sit there with my silence. I lost my mind. My heart. Now my shadow. What next?

- the girl.

the soothe.

just a good song.good combination of music n lyrics.. surprisingly, it is himesh reshammiya material which i usually do not prefer to listen to.

Soniye, soniye, soniye, soniye
Soniye, soniye, soniye, soniye

Tu hi tu hi meri manzil
Tu hi chaahat mein hai shaamil
Tu hi tu hi meri manzil
Tu hi chaahat mein hai shaamil
Kuch aisa keh do jaan-e-dil
Tere bina meri subah nahi jalti
Tere bina meri shaam nahi dhalti
Tere bina meri jaan hai pighalti
Soniye, soniye, soniye, soniye

You are my love, you are my life
You are the one deep in my heart
You are my love, you are my life
You are the one deep in my heart

Tu hi mere tu hi mere ishq ki itteda hai
Tu hi mere tu hi mere ishq ki inteha hai
Saanson ki jhumbish kehti hai kuch nahi tere siwa hai
Tere bina meri subah nahi jalti
Tere bina meri shaam nahi dhalti
Tere bina meri jaan hai pighalti
Soniye, soniye, soniye, soniye

I got to move on, I, I got to move onI,
I got to move on, I, I got to move on

Doobe doobe jism-o-jaan hai
Pyaar ki baarishon mein
Jee raha hoon jee raha hoon main teri khwaahishon mein
Bhool ke main duniya saari khoya tere nashe mein
Tere bina meri subah nahi jalti
Tere bina meri shaam nahi dhalti
Tere bina meri jaan hai pighalti
Soniye, soniye, soniye, soniye

Kehka shah hai tera chehra
Yaadon mein hai tera pehra
Tera mera naata bada gehra
Tere bina meri subah nahi jalti
Tere bina meri shaam nahi dhalti
Tere bina meri jaan hai pighalti
Soniye, soniye, soniye, soniye

You are my love, you are my life
You will always be deep in my heart
You are my love, you are my life
You will always be deep in my heart

-the girl.

A Divine Blessing

I realised the obvious - it is beyond any reason.

Beyond any logical explanation or ananalytical description ... it is beyond words.

One has to feel it to realise it.

You cannot capture the warmth of your mother's lap,The contentment of selfless actions,Or the virginity of a blooming bud.They are everlasting experiences leaving noimprints if not experienced with mindful consciousness.

Love is relentless ... It takes more than a lifetime to absorb it
And less than a moment to radiate it ..

How do I know ? ... Because I can feel it.

-the girl.

Misery of the Mind

A timeless gaze,

An eternity of darkness,

Moans of pain and anguish,

Sleepless nights of torment.

What if you realise the loss of your cause?

Your very proof of existence ?

All that is left is a long wait ......

Each moment preparing you for the end - uncertain

of which moment it will be.

Suddenly ...

Each breath becomes precious,

Each smile is filled with tears,

Palms join to pray,

Arms open to embrace,

Every experience is an engraved memory.

Ego crumbles to humility

And worship becomes religion.

Strings of hope grasp 'his' hand ..

Yearning for nothing but a miracle.

The heart weeps only for more time

...... one more moment

...... one more breath

...... one more touch.

Is this what fear of death can do ?

Or is this what we let it do ?

-the girl.

White Board

Siddarth loosened his seatbelt and looked out of the window. New Jersey was fading behind him. It was 6 years since he had landed there with a hope to get higher education, a decent job, and the determination never to get back to home country. It had taken him 6 years to dissolve his pride and go back home, to where he belonged, to where nobody would be waiting; at least that is what he had thought all those years. He put on his headphones and switched on the in-flight entertainment system. The stewardess pulled over a trolley of food and drinks.

“Anything to drink or eat sir?” she asked.

“Just coffee” he said and continued to scan through the movie list.

The stewardess placed the coffee on the tray and moved ahead. The movie list wasn’t impressive. He decided to listen to music and finally compiled a favorite collection. He sank in and closed his eyes forgetting the steamy coffee before him. It was on that coffee table that his parents had broken the news to him. 6 years ago, on a rainy evening, at the coffee table. His mind whirled back in time.
“Can you pass on those cookies?” Siddarth asked.

His mom pushed the tray towards him. As Siddarth stretched to pull the tray to his side, he looked at his mom whose eyes were welling up. He looked at his dad as his grip on the tray loosened and he sat back on his chair. His dad was running his finger over the rim of the coffee cup. He seemed to be in a contemplative mood.

“What happened mama?” Siddarth asked as he placed back the cookie on the tray and dusted off his hands.

She did not respond. Siddarth looked at his dad hoping he would come to his rescue to understand the drama that was about to be enacted.

There was silence for a while. Siddarth took a cookie from the tray and began to eat it as he took frequent sips of the coffee. Once the coffee cup was empty and his stomach was full, he got up to leave.

“Siddarth” his dad finally spoke. Maybe they had waited for him to relish the coffee in peace, one last time in that house.

“Yes papa. Please tell me what is happening,” Siddarth sat on the chair again.

His mom pulled her chair close to Siddarth and placed her hand over his hair. Siddarth squirmed and moved away from her touch. It had been few years since she showed such love by touching him and ruffling his hair.

His dad did not move from his place and did not look at Siddarth’s eyes that were to be hurt.

“We need to tell you something. Your mama and I have decided on something which definitely needs your attention. We definitely want to listen to your opinion as well. I want you to take this slowly so that we all get out of this unhurt” his dad said as he took a sip of the coffee. He needed to gulp down caffeine to spit the venom at ease on Siddarth.

“What is it?” Siddarth was irritated.

“Your mama and I are going to file a divorce” he said not looking at Siddarth.

His mom’s hand gripped his thigh as if to take away the instant shock.

“Sir? Can I remove the coffee cup?” the stewardess asked Siddarth. He jolted out of his sleep. His reality.

“Sure,” he said and handed over the cold coffee back to the stewardess. He removed the headphones and placed it inside the pouch before him. He looked out again and saw the dark horizon. He closed his eyes again, forcing himself to think of that rainy evening.

Siddarth looked at his dad who wouldn’t look at him in his eyes. He waited for a few moments and then looked at his mom whose eyes were a pool of tears. Siddarth couldn’t understand what was happening. He kept looking at his parents. His mom was over-reacting and his dad wasn’t reacting at all. Siddarth looked down at the coffee table, at his own reflection. He tried hard to understand the situation. A million things burst out of his mind. He was angry. Helpless. Lost. Hurt. Deceived. Confused. A million emotions surfaced that moment and he had difficulty in expressing even one of them. He clasped his hands that were beginning to shiver. His dad knew Siddarth was beginning to react to the situation. Siddarth quickly stood up, as if to draw back from a war violently. His chair fell back on him and he kicked it aside. He ran up the stairs, rushed into his room and slammed the door behind. That was all he could muster to do. His parents sat there looking at the closed door. It was as if he had closed his life on them. Forever.

“Give him some time. We will talk to him after dinner” his dad said and walked outside the house for a walk in the lawn.

His mom sat there looking at the empty coffee cups. Her cup was still on the table full of coffee. Cold, with a thin skim that Siddarth had always hated. She pulled all the cups together thinking about her family that was already in splits. She cleaned the cookie crumbles on the table, while her son was crumbling within in his room.

Siddarth stood at the window, holding the bars and staring into the cold evening. The rains had stopped, not wanting to add gloom to his already bemused life. He saw his dad walk into the lawns. His dad stood beside the garden chair and looked up at Siddarth’s window. Their eyes met finally. His dad’s eyes conveyed that there was a lot of talking to be done. Siddarth drew the curtains together disapproving it. He fell back on his bed and looked at their family picture beside his bed. He wanted to quickly grab it and throw it outside the window so that it lands at his dad’s feet. Instead he pulled it close and tried to recollect the moment that picture was clicked. His eyes finally gave up on him. He broke down like a child. He wanted someone beside him to comfort him. All he had was the photo. His real comforts in life were already transforming into memories.

Four hours later. Siddarth did not come out of his room to the dinner table while his parents were waiting for him in silence. His dad knocked at his door but there wasn’t any response from inside.

“Siddarth, please come out. Please talk to us. We can sort this out,” his dad said.

Siddarth opened the door and walked down to the dining table. He did not acknowledge his parent’s presence. He served himself with some generous quantity of food and took it to his room and locked the doors. Few minutes later he walked down with the empty plate. Later he pulled out the ice cream tub from the freezer, dug out 3 scoops of his favorite butterscotch ice cream and sank into the couch. He switched on the television.His dad sat beside him glaring at the television which was staring back at him.

“How long can we go on like this?” his dad began the conversation that was to decide their fates that night.

“How long? How long were you contemplating a divorce? Ever since I was born?” Siddarth asked in a tone that was spitting anger.

“Things weren’t going too well between me and your mama. We pulled it along. She wants to walk out of my life”

“And you made that decision for me” his mom rose her defensive voice.

“Not that you wanted to stay with me. With us forever. You wanted to go with your life with Varun”

“Varun? What?” Siddarth was at loss of words.

There was silence. Everything fell into place.

“I’m 21. My parents decide to split when am 21. My mama wants to go away with a man she had been seeing during her college days. My dad wants to send her away from his life. My parents want a divorce. DIVORCE.” Siddarth was trembling.

His dad placed his arm around him as if to comfort a friend in distress. Siddarth moved away. He wanted his space to handle the situation by himself.

“Why at 21? Why not when I was a kid? I would have grown up to forget about your divorce. I would have grown up to be someone else. I would have just had mama or papa or new mama or papa” Siddarth broke down. The ice cream bowl fell from his hand.

“Something to drink sir?” the stewardess asked Siddarth. He was hungry. He had hated Butterscotch ever since that night.

“Yes, I’m terribly hungry” he said. The stewardess pulled out a tray of assorted eatables and gave it to him with a wide smile.

“Thank you. And some coffee. Very very strong” he returned her smile.

“Now what do you want me to do?” Siddarth asked wiping his tears.

There was silence.

“Go away from this place? Tell my friends that my parents are happily divorced. Tell the world that I love my life”

“Please stay calm Siddarth” his mom said. He did not want to look at her.

“We are filing our papers tomorrow. Everything should be over in a couple of weeks” his dad confirmed.

“What happens to me in a couple of weeks? Am I still your son? Or is there any law that lets you disown me as well?”

“You are 21. You can decide to stay with me or mama, or both. It is your life and you are always our son. My son” his dad said.

“How much time do I have?” Siddarth asked.

“You can let us know before we file our papers. We need to make your statement clear while filing our papers” his dad said.

“That gives me less than 12 hours. Thanks” Siddarth said and picked the ice cream bowl from the floor.

He walked to the kitchen and placed the bowl in the sink.

“Come with me Siddarth. I know I’ve made this decision for me. For us. Your dad never let me be in peace. He always talked about Varun. Every night I went to sleep crying, thinking of a life that never was. I’ve had enough and I reached my threshold” his mom said from behind. She was putting the utensils in place.

“I don’t care about your blame game. I’m not the judge to tell you if you are at fault or if dad did something wrong. You both have already decided to move on with different lives. You both have left me in a fork road. I was dreaming of a career. Now you have let me dream of a new life” Siddarth said in a voice pregnant with anguish.

“Mama will take care of you dear” she began to cry.

“Stop crying mama. It is not going to help anyone. At least tonight go to sleep with no tears. You are almost free to go with your life”

Siddarth walked into his room, locked it behind, and fell on his bed. He did not switch on the lights or the fan. He slept beside the open window. He was trembling again. He felt drained. He wanted to cry but couldn’t. He wanted to sleep, he tried. Finally, he fell asleep at 5 in the morning. He had made his decision about his life.

He woke up late in the morning with a smile. He then realized the reality and his face shrunk. The smile flew away through the open window. An hour later, he walked down after his shower. His parents were waiting for him. They had already dressed to go to the court. Siddarth had his breakfast alone. He should be getting used to that. Few minutes later they were in the car. No one had spoken a word. His parents were waiting to hear his decision. Siddarth was not ready to start the conversation.

“I’ve made my decision” Siddarth finally broke the awkward silence.

His parents were eager but they remained silent waiting for him to utter the words that will change their lives.

“I’ve decided to be with papa” Siddath said.

His mama turned away and looked out of the window. His dad looked at her through the rear view mirror with a jubilant smile.

“There isn’t much reason to be happy papa. I chose to stay with you, just because of financial needs. I still have a bit of time to settle down with a career. Until then I definitely need your financial assistance. That is the only reason I chose to live with you”

The smile on his dad’s face was lost, forever.

His mom looked at him in the same rear view mirror. His eyes were hurt and she had never wanted to see that.

“Once I’m ready to carry on my life by myself, I will go away, with my life. Until then I want…. your money” Siddarth spoke and daggers flew out of his mouth, hitting his dad one after the other.

There was continued silence from his parents.

“Is that fine with you papa?” he asked looking at his dad.

His dad nodded his head in approval.

“Anything son. I will be beside you”

“Thank you”, Siddarth said. Those were the last words that he had mentioned to his dad in those 6 years.

“Thank you” he said as the stewardess took away his plate and coffee cup.

Siddarth wanted to stretch a bit and he walked down the aisle. There was none that he knew on the flight, which was unusually less booked that day. He picked a magazine on the way back to his place. He sank into his seat and opened the magazine. He spotted an advertisement on desktop PCs and beside the picture of a desktop was a white board. It conveyed something like white boards replaced with PCs at that educational institution. Siddarth was reminded of the white board at his house. The board that he had placed at the dining room.

“Siddarth! Siddarth!” his dad called out to him.

Siddarth walked down and looked at his dad.

“What is this white board doing in the dining room?”

Siddarth had not spoken to his dad ever since that drive to the court a week ago. His mom had left the house the very next day. Siddarth walked to the white board, picked the black marker and wrote, “I don’t see a difference between this board and you. I prefer communicating to the board”. He placed the marker beside the board and walked back to his room. From that day, the white board became the medium between his dad and him to communicate. He would write something and his dad would reply beside that. Most of the times, it was his dad who wrote expecting Siddarth to speak to him soon.

One month later, when Siddarth’s dad walked into the house after an office party, he saw the white board.

“I’ve got my admission at the Princeton University and I want to go in a week. I’ve managed to get a scholarship, but I need more money. Will repay when I can”

“Siddarth! Come here!” his dad screamed. Siddarth walked down to the dining room.

“What is this?” his dad screamed. Siddarth felt the stench of liquor in the room and decided to get back to his room, not wanting to have an argument that will not take him anywhere.

“You are not going anywhere. You are going to be with me always” his dad said and rubbed the white board. On second thoughts he pushed the board down.

Siddarth silently walked up the stairs and locked his room leaving behind his dad who was screaming.

Next day, when his dad walked out of his room, he saw the white board in place again. He remembered what had happened the previous night and felt sorry. He read what was written on the board.

“I’m going in a week. It is ok if you don’t give me money, I will have to ask mama”

His dad walked into his room, pulled out a blank cheque and placed it on the table.

He wrote on the board, “Take as much as you want, but please don’t go”

Later that evening, Siddarth had taken the cheque and replied, “Thank you papa, the money means a lot, if not our family. I’ve booked my air tickets for friday night”

“You are leaving me alone. Please don’t go” his dad had replied.

“Sorry papa. Good bye” those were the last words that Siddarth had written on that white board.

His dad left behind many messages on the board, which Siddarth read and never replied. On Friday evening, he saw the message from his dad, one last time.

“Good luck son. I will be at the airport tonight”

Few hours later, Siddarth got off the cab and pulled his bags together at the terminal. He looked around for his dad. He wasn’t there. He did not wait. He checked-in his bags and began to walk towards the security check. Just then he spotted a frantic man running with a placard. He turned around to see his dad with a placard.

“Sorry! Am late from work. Good luck. Love you and will wait for you”

Siddarth’s hand instantly raised to bid adieu, but he forcefully pulled his hand down and walked away, leaving behind a man who was to wait for him, for a very long time. He did not look back until he reached the security check-in gate.

Few minutes later he was waiting at the gate. He was restless and wanted to talk to his dad very badly. He wanted to hug him and feel the security that he had given him all those years. He walked beside the eat outs and looked down. He saw the entrance to the International Terminal with a lot of people waiting to see off their loved ones. He looked around to see if his dad was in the crowd. He looked beyond and then spotted him, with the placard. Siddarth tapped the glass, crying within and calling for his dad. He pulled out his mobile to call his dad, and later realized he had left the SIM card back in his room. He pulled himself out of that spot and walked to the gate that was open.

“…will be landing in about 10 minutes…” Siddarth woke up to listen to the captain. The flight was to land in few minutes. He was going to feel his home country after 6 years, although a short span of time, he felt he had grown far more mature and indifferent to everything around. He had no clue if his papa still lived in that house. He had decided to go there anyways to find out. He wanted to see his room. He wanted to see his papa. He wanted to know about his mama. He wanted to see the white board. He thought it would have been removed. Maybe there was someone else. Maybe his papa had married someone else who would have removed that white board and taken his room as well. Million thoughts escaped out of his mind as the flight landed on the runway with a jolt.Siddarth did not want to get off the flight. As people were spilling out, he sat there trembling.

“Is there a problem, Sir?” the stewardess asked. He looked around and realized that everybody had left the aircraft.

“No” he said, grabbed his bag and stepped out. The passenger buses had left and he stood at the tarmac with security personnel, waiting for the next bus to take him. The smell of his city, that evening, brought back pungent nostalgia of the night he had taken off from the same terminal. The night when he wanted to talk to his papa, but never managed to.

As he sat inside the bus, he kept looking at the huge aircraft that was fading before him. He wanted to quickly jump out of the bus, rush into the aircraft, and fasten his seatbelts, so that he can go back to New Jersey and live there forever.

A couple of hours later, he was in a cab, on his way to his papa’s house. His heart was racing. “What if there was someone else in that house? What if his dad was living with someone else? What if there was no one in that house?

Where will I find papa? What if the white board is still there? What if I don’t go to that house at all?” his mind was searching for answers to all those questions.

He reached the house in an hour. He got off the cab and pulled out his bags. He stood outside the huge locked doors. He looked intently at the house, which had faded over the years. It had lost its sheen, but something about it was still fresh. Siddarth then realized it was the memories that seemed to be floating around.

He looked at his room’s window, which were closed. The curtains were now darker. Someone had changed it. His heart was beating faster. He was hesitant to walk closer to the closed door. As he walked further, the security guy walked out and stood there motionless.

“Siddarth!” he exclaimed. It was the same security guy in all those 6 years. At least he hadn’t changed. Siddarth walked in, leaving the bags behind for the security guy to bring. He did not dare to ask him any questions – if papa was home, or if this house was someone else’s. He wanted to find all the answers himself. He looked around at the lawn and realized that it was well maintained.

Someone lives in this house that takes care of it, he thought.

He stood outside the closed wooden door. He was unsure what to do, how to handle the situation. He turned around and saw the security guy pull his bags. He wanted to run out of the house and never return again. He looked back, mustered courage, and pressed the doorbell. Nobody opened the door. His heart was sinking. He turned back to look at the security guy, hoping he would help him with the answers. Instead, the security guy flashed a vibrant smile.

Someone opened the door and Siddarth turned back at the door quickly.

An old woman stood there with a perplexed look. Siddarth returned the same look. The old woman saw the security guy with the bags.

“Do you want to see someone?” she asked.

Siddarth remained silent and his eyes ran inside the house while his feet stood at the door.

“Siddarth!” someone screamed from inside and ran out.

Siddarth was surprised to see his mama. She had dropped the bowl of flour on the floor and ran outside the house frantically. Her hands were trembling and she hugged him with tears brimming in her eyes. She kissed him all over.

Siddarth did not respond to any of her gestures. He stood there motionless, still searching for something. Someone. His questions weren’t answered yet. More questions thronged his mind like vermin.

Just then his dad ran out hearing his mama’s hues and cries of joy. He froze at the door. Siddarth wanted to run to him and hug him. Instead he stood there closing all those questions on his mind. He wanted to bury all those questions and worries in a coffin, lock them up, and throw the key into the Indian Ocean.

His dad did not move. They kept looking at each other.

“Your mama came back to this house. For you and me” his dad uttered.

Siddarth did not look at his mama.

“She never wanted to go with Varun. I realized my mistake” his dad continued.

“And I realized mine too. I shouldn’t have walked out of this house and family” his mom assured.

Siddarth couldn’t believe what was happening at the doorstep.

“We tried all ways possible to trace you. We did find you through your college. We just gave you your time” his dad said.

“And you have taken 6 years. We were waiting” his mom said as she rubbed his arms.

Siddarth’s eyes welled up. He ran and buried himself in his dad’s bosom. He did not want to get away from that hug, from that house. His mom moved close to them. Siddarth hugged her and broke down like a little kid who had come back from the hostel for summer vacations.

Siddarth walked into the dining room and looked at the white board, which stood there like a monument. It was clean. He turned around and looked at his dad.

“I didn’t know if you would need it or not when you come back. We just left it there. Whenever we wanted to talk to you, we would write some random notes on it. Sometimes we would laugh at it too” his dad said and smiled.

Siddarth looked at the white board. He took the black marker and wrote, “I’m home for Diwali papa and mama. I just want to spend every diwali with you both, always”

He turned around and said, “Happy Diwali..”

----------------------

-the girl.

happenings..

nothing is happening here.coz things are happening elsewhere.. :)

-the girl.

the search..

Disclaimer:I don't know what mood I was in to write this piece..totally unexpected and a different one..bear with me..

******************************************************************
The vivid eyes, the chromatic purity of those eyelashes, the crystallized lens, the described line of kohl, and the hidden crimson tides behind all these - God seemed to have etched two butterflies instead of her eyes on that picture perfect face. And then when she looked at him, those butterflies transcended into his stomach and grew to be dinosaurs. He loved them in his belly. She loved the way he smiled. It was after all the beginning of a love story.

-----------------------

It was white. Just plain white. The pearly gate they call it. He stood outside looking around the semi-clad angels and demons.

“Why is everything so white and only white? Glad that the people aren’t tainted in white too” Siddarth mumbled.

“Hey you! Step in” a guy at the door said.

Siddarth religiously followed a semi-clad lady who was draped in white. “Phew! Where does she get her style mantra from?” he mumbled again.

“This is where you are going to stay forever” she said and opened a door.

The door flung open to a wide area of greenery. People seemed to simply sit and look around, plucking flowers, eating apples, playing something, talking anything, and walking as if there was no tomorrow.

“Thank you very much” he thanked the lady.

“My pleasure. Enjoy your stay here”

“Yeah right. First class executive suite. How pleased am I? I’m dead and here to spend the rest of my whatever in a place which has so many of my relatives” he sighed.

“You wanted to die early. You decided to take your life” she said.

“So you do know my history”

“Yes. I know each and everyone’s history and future”

“How long have you been living here? When did you die? A thousand years?” he laughed.

She began to walk away from him.

“Can you help me?” he asked.

She stopped but did not look back.

“I came here for a reason. I know I don’t have a way to get back my life. But something that belongs to me is in this place”

She turned around.

“Here?” she asked.

“Yes. Here. I know she is here, somewhere, waiting for me to come”

“Who is she?”

“Mansi. She died a month ago”

“I’m sorry. This place is full of dead people, but a world in itself. I haven’t known anybody who gave up their life to search for the loved and lost one” she said and began to walk.

“Can you help me find her in this world of dead people” he smiled.

“I will try” she kept walking.

He walked behind her.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“I do not have a name” she said.

“Whoa! What do people call you around? You are addressed by numbers or something?” he laughed.

“We don’t need a name. We know when somebody is calling us and when we are supposed to attend to somebody”

“Interesting. So if I feel like seeing you around will you know it?”

“Yes I will, but I won’t be coming to see you”

“Why?”

“I’m not supposed to. I need to attend to calls only from the people who own this place”

“I will give you a name. I will call you ‘Neo’ hereafter”

She smiled in agreement and left.

“Neo, I want to see you now” he thought to himself as he was entering the huge door. She didn’t come.

“Damn” he cursed.

As he walked further into the new beautiful world he recollected what they had instructed at the pearly gates.
“This place is no different from the earth. You do not have technology here. All you have is nature and people. Both heaven and hell has been merged for better management purposes and easy administration.

Hence expect the unexpected any time and all the time”

“Sounds as good as a cinema script” he mumbled.

“You need to be careful with people dressed in black. They are people who belong to hell and most of them are harmful”

“And then we go back to the Black and White TV era” he continued to mumble.

“You are not supposed to fall in love with anybody. And physical intimacy is strictly prohibited”

“Wh.. what? No love. No physical intimacy. And you still call it heaven” sighed Siddarth.

“If you trespass all the rules, you will have to wear the black dress and be our guest” the final verdict alarmed in his ears.

“Give me the black dress now instead of the white. I would prefer to trespass the rules and be your guest” he said as the lady in white walked over to him.

He spotted a few men and women in black. “Most of the good looking people around are in black” he thought.
He sat beneath a tree that had ripened apples dangling all over.

“Where will I find her, in this ocean of dead souls?” he thought.

“She might be behind the woods playing with the other girls of her age” an apple fell on his head.

“Talk of gravity. Now talk of a talking apple”

He took a bite of the red apple.

“Ouch”, he heard.

“Is there any limit to all the insanity around?” he took another bite.

“By the way, how do I get to the woods?” he asked as he took another bite.

“Just keep going straight. You will reach the woods” the apple said and died. He finished his last bite.
He looked up the tree hoping for another apple to fall down. He saw a bunch of apples smiling at him.
“Scary” he said and walked away.

He kept walking straight. “How come I haven’t seen any brook as yet” he thought and from nowhere he walked to a brook. Clear water flowed down the brook. He could see through the water and count the pebbles at the bottom. There were golden fishes playing the love life game. “How come they aren’t in black?” he thought and just then a huge black fish swam across with gaiety and swallowed few golden fishes . “That is much better”. He jumped across the brook.

As he jumped across he saw the reflection of his face. He turned around and sat by the water. He looked at his face. The last he remembered seeing his face was before drinking that bottle of poison.

“I don’t know why I saw my face before taking my life out. I should have haplessly hoped that just by looking at my face for a very long time would do the trick”

His face looked paler. It had drained but there was some kind of brightness around him. It might have been because of the pristine white dress that he was wearing or that was the code of look at heaven.

As he stood up, a fish swam up and put its pouted face out of water and said “You just have 18 hours to find your woman. If you don’t you will never get her”

“Now what is this drama all about?”

“You had 24 hours to accomplish your wants. Already you have wasted 4 hours. People who come here have 24 hours to do what they want and after that they should live by the rules”

“They never told this cue at the pearly gate entrance number 7”

“It is a hidden incentive”

“Thanks for letting me know”

“Good luck to find your woman. She must be excited to see you here”

Siddarth kept walking.

He landed in a rose garden. “It would be cliché to be looking for her at this rose garden” he thought to himself and walked away from the rose garden. And there she was playing with the kids, in that rose garden.
He walked a lonely road. A strong whiff of lavender. He turned around to see a lady in black. She stood by a tree looking at him.

“The bad people are in black. But this woman is too good to be bad” his mind raved.

“Looking for me?” she asked as he neared her.

“Not really. But wouldn’t mind looking for you” he flirted.

She put her arms around him and looked into his eyes.

“You are searching for someone. Although your eyes are fixated on me and my body, beyond those eyes, you are looking for someone else” she said in a chilled voice.

“Everybody seems to know why I’m here” he thought.

“You just missed her”

“Where?”

“At the rose garden”

He moved away from her and turned around to walk back.

“But wait. She has already left that place”

“Where to?”

“Get closer to me and I’ll tell you how to get to her”

He got closer to her and the smell of lavender grew stronger.

She held his hand and placed it over her waist and pulled him closer.

“And then we will kiss, fall in love, and live happily ever after?” he blurted.

“How did your woman ever manage to manage you?” she said still waiting with hungry lips.

He gently took his hand from her waist and turned around.

“I don’t have to kiss you to get to her”

She gave a sly smile.

“I would rather get to her and kiss her” he said and walked away.

Then he came across a bridge. His legs were already pained and he was tired. He had 16 hours left. He needed two things – Mansi and some sleep.

He sat down on the bridge with his legs dangling beneath the bridge and over the stagnant water. There were lotuses, lilies, and frogs.

“Now who is going to talk to me? The frog or the flower?” he asked looking at his own face on the water.
“It is me” his reflection said.

“Uh. How come I forgot you!”

“Why Mansi?” the reflection asked.

“Why not Mansi?”

“Do you think it is all worth it?”

“Every moment, every step is”

“Do you know what happens when your 24 hours of freedom is over?”

“I would lose her forever”

“And do you know why is that?”

Siddarth was silent.

“You will not find her because she would go back to earth as a newborn baby”

“Whoa! Do Indian directors live in closest quarters?”

“Stop kidding. And then one fine day even you will go back to earth as a baby, or a sapling, or an animal or a bird”

“How do you know that she would be a baby and I would be some other ‘thing’?”

“Her destiny is already defined. She is all set to leave, but with a clause of you finding her and retaining her here”

“I thought the earth was the most complicated place to live in. This place seems even more worse. Dramatic and funny”

The reflection disappeared with no traces.

He stood up to walk. On an impulse he plunged into the water.

He drowned. He reached the waterbed. He settled down on a slippery rock. There were no traces of life anywhere.

“Why did I just jump into this damn thing?” he sighed.

“Did you think you could get to see Mansi here?”

He looked around to see a huge… something.

“Er.. What are you?” Siddarth gasped for words.

“I don’t know” it said.

“Are you wearing a black dress or a white one?” Siddarth asked.

“I don’t wear any” it said.

“Good for you. I never read about such creatures under water”

“So you thought only sexy looking mermaids lived under water?”

“Duh! I don’t believe in mermaids” Siddarth said. He felt someone place a quick kiss on his cheek. He turned around to see a gorgeous looking mermaid. He smiled the moment he saw the mermaid and then noticed that it was not a mermaid but a merman! He quickly wiped off his cheeks.

“I’ve never read about mermen”

“You were just kissed by one”

“Thank you very much” he sighed.

“You got 14 hours. At the end of the journey you will meet her by the beach, under the moonlight, just the two of you… but….” the merman said and vanished.

“He came. He kissed. He left” sighed Siddarth.

“Go ahead. Don’t waste time” it said.

“Thank you waterbed creature of the next century”, he said and swam up. As he popped out of the water he saw a different place. He swam to the shore and saw few kids playing around a basket of oranges. Siddarth was hungry. He walked over to the kids and asked for some oranges.

“Sure go ahead. But as we plucked them, the tree said that one of the oranges in this basket is jinxed. If you eat that you will forget the past” one of the kids said.

Siddarth was in a trance. He did not know if he should kill his hunger or go ahead. He knew it would be impossible to continue the search with that stamina. He knelt before the basket of oranges and looked at them. They all looked photocopied, but tempting. He was reminded of the forbidden fruit.
“Satiate your hunger or cease your past or simply walk away” one of the oranges said.

He placed his hand on the talking orange. He grabbed it and began to peel it. Then he grabbed another orange and peeled it. He peeled all the oranges and finally threw one of the orange into the water.
“Go ahead kids. Have your share”, he said and walked away with few oranges for himself.
The orange that drowned into the water had a worm in it.

As he relished the oranges, he walked into a lawn. He knew this was the best place to take a quick nap. He spotted a tree that sprung its branches so wide that even the creature that he met under water could sleep beside him.

He sat down and closed his eyes. He Their moments of being together, the last argument that they had, her tears, his anger, their last words spoken, her last look, her last breath, all those images flashed in and out. He woke up with a shudder. It was already getting dark and he had slept in his past for over a long time.
He jumped and began to run towards the sun that was setting down. He knew the beach was there, they direction where he ran. He knew that Mansi and he were destined to meet that night. He ran until he reached a fast and furious river. There wasn’t any bridge in sight. He was helpless. He looked around for signs of life.
“The trees speak, the apples speak, and every cranky thing in this place speaks, but why are they all silent now?” he was frustrated.

Just then he saw few girls walking at the other side of the river. And then he saw her. She was as gorgeous as ever. That flowing hair. That lustrous eye lashes. That twinkle in her smile.

“Mansi” he screamed.

She did not look back. He picked up a stone and flung it in the air. The stone stood midway and fell right into the river. It simply would not cross the river.

“Destiny is the one that wins all the time” his mind read.

“Just look at me. Please. Just one time” he screamed.

She walked away.

He wanted to plunge into the angry river and swim to her. He ran around looking for something to make him get to her. Nothing helped. She was gone. All the mayhem was over. The river was silent.

He knelt down.

“Neo” he silently said.

“I wasn’t supposed to, but I have come” she said beside him.

He looked at her with those yearning eyes.

“You just have 2 hours” she said.

“I have you too” he said. He gained all the confidence that had just crashed right before him few moments ago.

“You can now swim across this river. Trust me, it is safe” she said.

“Thanks. Will I get to her? Will we be together forever?” he asked her.

“You will get to her”

He understood that she did not answer his second question.

“It is getting late. Go ahead” she said.

He instantly jumped into the river that was warm. He looked back as he swam and saw Neo walking away.

“Oy Neo!” he shouted.

She looked back.

“Just in case Mansi and I don’t get to be together, I will come searching for you, because I know for sure that you are one of those eternal souls in this place! You better be ready to live with me… forever” he said and smiled.

She smiled and walked away.

He swam to the other end. He walked towards the beach. The moon was shining brighter than ever. He knew he was going to meet her beneath that moon.

He reached the beach. The waves were calm and glistened in the moonlight. He looked around. There was no sign of life. He was tired. His eyes were drooping. Every now and then he shuddered to bring him back to consciousness. He had less than an hour.Far away, he saw her stroll the other way. He began to run. He ran for 10 minutes. She was still walking. He was still running and the distance between them grew. He did not give up. He continued to run.

As he ran with so much fervour, he banged with great force on a wall. He was thrown back and he fell on the wet sand. It took a while for him to understand that it was a huge wall that was a capricious mirror which showed Mansi walking the other way and hid Siddarth’s image. He had 20 minutes left. He jumped up again, picked a conch from the shore and flung it on the mirror in anger. The mirror shattered and sent a thundering noise. Mansi looked back. He was there with blisters all over him. She knew it was him and ran towards him. He smiled and crashed beside the friendly waves.

They had 5 minutes. Mansi ran to him. He had already crashed beside the sea. And then, in that last minute, she sat by his side and ruffled his hair. He did not wake up. In a moment she dropped down as translucent pebbles and ran into the sea. And few hours later he blended into the sand.

23 years later...

The vivid eyes, the chromatic purity of those eyelashes, the crystallized lens, the described line of kohl, and the hidden crimson tides behind all these - God seemed to have etched two butterflies instead of her eyes on that picture perfect face. And then when she looked at him, those butterflies transcended into his stomach and grew to be dinosaurs. He loved them in his belly. She loved the way he smiled. It was after all the beginning of a love story.

- the girl.