Incomplete…

It’s again one of those days…there’s nothing unusual, but just another scar on her weary soul. She’s falling apart once again and there’s no one to withhold.

I tried to console her, but no matter how much I cleared the grime…She said she just wanted to wake up as if it was a dream and go back to the old winsome time.

Gosh!! She had gone crazy and was losing her mind…I wish i could tell her that life has no rewind.

Will my wait ever get over? She asked me…I kept silent as I knew what was in her destiny.

I had no answers…but wondered if it really was her fault! What she felt was in vain, was there nothing inside life’s vault?

Her words fell short, and I could only listen to her heart beat…..and all that it said was…that some stories are never meant to be complete...

Love. Fear.

She lied motionless…it was 3 in the morning, she just couldn’t sleep. It was quiet all around…the only thing she could hear and feel was her heartbeats racing. What had happened? She was captivated. Yes! Captivated by love.

Did she tell him? No. Her mind battled the heart. What if he would turn her down? A tear drop trickled down her cheeks. She started writing…..

I knew that love would find me again someday. But never did I know that it would be you who would come my way.

You asks me for reasons, but I have none. For all I want is the two of us to be one.

You have your flaws and perfection is not what I want to see. For somewhere I know, you care for me.

Sometimes I wonder if what I feel is too good to be true. I’m afraid to get my heart broken and scared at even the thought of losing you.

Coming into this relationship can be hard at times but we’ll make it through. I know as long as we’re on this journey together, there’s nothing that we can’t do.

I don’t need to prove my feelings to know they’re true. Because what I’ve experienced in my past, doesn’t even come close to what I’ve started feeling for you.

For now, I’ll be waiting patiently for the day when we’ll be together. That precious moment in time when I’ll say, “it’s you that I want to be with forever”.

Life suddenly seems beautiful, precious and new, just as special as the moment when I’ll look into your eyes and say, “I Love You”.

Under The Skin…..

She sat motionless. Several eyes were staring at her – the fine clothes, jewelry and makeup she had put on, the fancy hairdo she had done. But no one looked beyond it.

Did she have the most attractive pair of eyes? Beautiful lips? A flawless skin? A slim waistline? An enviable body? – asked every staring eye. She had no answer.

HER eyes met HIS – he was sitting across the table. Her eyes questioned hopefully, “You are here to decide if you want to spend the rest of your life with me, are you too bothered only about the outer physical allure?” He looked away. She got the answer.

“So do you like her?” People around whispered. He gave them unsure glances.

And all this while she was rebelling the disgusted feelings within her. She knew that she wasn’t bothered about herself not being artificially beautiful. She knew that she didn’t need to emphasize on her outward beauty, because she wasn’t empty inside. She knew that she didn’t put on a veil to disguise her bankrupt values.

She felt terrible. This is not what she is, this is not how she wants HIM to know her. Between all the plucking, primping, straightening and exfoliating…lied her true self. The one without curled lashes and plucked eyebrows. The one without the caked up foundation and the perfect braid.

Her true, beautiful self lied under the skin…The inner self that was her mind, her compassion, her fun loving spirit, her resilience…..that no one ever looked at!

He Smiled…..I Smiled…..!!!

A pleasant autumn evening. I was walking along a quiet street. I wanted to escape from the city lights and find some refuge from the people around.

The cool breeze brushed against my face and ruffled my tresses. I could hear the trees whistle in the breeze – it was calm and soothing. I kept walking when suddenly the whistle started sounding melodious, and well it wasn’t the trees now. I heard footsteps, close behind me.

I stopped. Looked down. The moonlight tried to manifest an eerie shadow of a creature hiding behind me. The shadow grew bigger and there he was, standing in front of me. A boy, probably in his late twenties. He carried a backpack and a guitar.

I was somewhat afraid and my senses heightened, but he gave me an assuring smile.

He smiled…I smiled!

He signalled me to continue walking and started whistling again. He looked at me once more and smiled, trying to ease my fears. We kept walking.

At that moment an ensemble of nocturnal movements and sounds suddenly brought the quiet street to life. Tiny animals scurried through the dry leaves scattered around, the branches swayed over our heads and a hawk screeched.

I suddenly felt that the quiet desolated street was waiting to catch the next victim in its snare.

My feet froze and I stood listening when I felt a warm rush of HIS hands against mine, carefully sliding his fingers in between. This act stimulated the deepest fears of my soul and I started loosing breath. He clasped my hand, pulled me and whispered “keep walking”.

My eyes wide shut, ears deafened, I just followed him fast behind – kicking the dried leaves and tripping over broken branches. I didn’t know what was going to happen next!

We kept walking, he didn’t let me go off. I was scared of imagining the upcoming plight, when the honking and blazing of traffic sounds and light woke my senses. We had reached the main road. He left my hand and stared into my fear-struck eyes silently, trying to explain and assure that all was okay.

Our eyes conversed for a few seconds. I quietly gasped with relief. He turned and walked to the other side of the street. I felt like stopping him. He stopped, looked back and found me silently gazing towards him. He smiled.

His smile stirred an avalanche of emotions. I felt guilty, thankful, safe and wonderful.

He smiled…I smiled…and he walked away!

The Unending Search…..

18/04/2014 – I had hit the quarter life crisis. While Google tried to convince me that turning 25 wasn’t all that scary, the reality was rather different.

“Am I a loser?” I asked myself. Between pesky bosses, unreasonable work hours, combatting societal pressure to get hitched and scrambling for some time to socialize; had I kept my life plan on track? The answer was a clear NO.

Not having flat abs, a wardrobe full of statement pieces, a comfortable bank balance and an amazing work-life balance was still okay. What sucked the most was that, I was still single. I hadn’t found love.

For the longest time I felt like, I was looking for love…but could never find it. I wanted it, craved for it, but was also scared that I might lose myself once I truly fell in love.

I had seen a little glimpse of myself in relationships and people hated the person I had become. The more I tried, the more disastrous the dates turned out to be. So, I lost all hopes and agreed to the fact that love wasn’t my thing.

After all, who would want a girl who fought to pay her own bills on a date, who was a mean cook in the kitchen and a fearsome diva at the workplace, who thought that sweet talks with a boy were irksome, who liked her opinions to be heard loud & clear, who was self-sufficient to pack her bags and go on solo adventure trips, and who never wanted a ‘Knight In Shining Armor’ to come to her rescue. No one right?

Nothing bound me…no clichés defined me. Yet, something was missing, that made me feel incomplete.

Mom had come over to celebrate my 25th Birthday with me. I walked up to her. “Maa, most of my friends are in serious relationships and a few are married too. Not that I feel jealous, but do you think I need to be with someone as well?”

She looked at me and smiled. “Komal, if you think you’ve failed miserably in your ‘finding love’ business, I have a suggestion. It may not sound as the most romantic thing ever, but would you like to give arranged marriage a try?” Mom said.

There was an awkward silence between us…

And then the next moment we were staring at the laptop screen, setting up my matrimonial profile. We giggled incessantly as we filled in each field. We looked at each other and let out a loud laugh, when the prompt read ‘profile created’.

The next few months was a fun family drama. We came across all sorts of crazy, funny and whatever-you-want-to-call profiles on the matrimonial sites.

After slogging myself through the long day at work, visiting these profiles in the evening used to be my reward. Some of the so called eligible bachelors’ expectations, used to leave us in splits.

Mr. A wanted me, oh wait no! The prospective bride to be “very well worsed in English”, because he clearly wasn’t.

Mr. B’s life was “so much full of fun”, that I wondered if there would be any place left for me.

Mr. C wanted only a “civil engineer, dental surgeon or admin professional”. Hats off to him for being so specific. Like really!

Mr. D “got born and bought up in the heart of India”. I suffered a mini heart attack when I got to know.

and…

Mr. E who wanted “an overtly friendly life partner”. I just couldn’t stop facepalming!

So, after months of these traumatic hilarious experiences, shit luck and sheer absence of guys who fit the bill, I landed to the conclusion that this whole allure of arranged marriage was also a hoax.

And I resumed to my normal Bombay life. Rising at the crack of dawn, eating off khau-gallis, playing Spartan in crowded locals, getting stuck in traffic jams for hours, monsoon packing myself and leaving from work when rest of the city was retiring to sleep.

The slavery-demanding days came to a pause with a 4 day long Dussehra weekend. While the Twitterati and Facebookians were busy updating their plans, I was clueless of how to make the most out of this holiday.

On day 1, I did nothing but majorly erased the sleep debts of the last few months.

It was a nippy autumn evening in Mumbai. I stood in my balcony.

Mom pinged me on WhatsApp

Mom: Komal, did you get enough sleep beta?

Me: Yes Maa

Mom: What do you plan to do now? Go out, have fun.

Me: Naah. All my friends have gone out of town with their boyfriends and girlfriends, where will I hang out alone. I’ll stay home.

Mom didn’t reply for a few minutes. I suddenly felt uneasy…

I’m independent, carefree and live in the moment…but there’s something missing in my life. The absence of love – which I’ve been yearning for. I was lonely, had just forayed into womanhood, am facing hormonal imbalances, wanting to be loved and desperately searching for it. I felt the void just grow…

I pinged her again…

Me: Maa

Me: Maa, when will I find him?

Mom: When you least expect it and when you’re not looking, is when he will come in your life.

My Wanderlust…!

“To awaken quite alone in a foreign land, will be one of the pleasantest sensations ever.”

Traveling alone…..with my intuitions, confidence, taste for adventure, and sense of self.

As I embark on the solo journey of self-reflection and re-discovery, wouldn’t it be fun to…

Meet New Friends In Dark Bars…
(Who knows I might make a new friend to navigate the rest of my trip with)

Bum A Cigarette Off A Local…
(Even though I don’t smoke, will indulge in the vice if only for the experience. Besides, cigarettes don’t count when you’re abroad)

Go To Parties That Aren’t Promoted…
(For the underground raves is where the real fun lies)

Order The Most Confusing Item On The Menu…
(The obscure dishes, people might be embarrassed to order)

Try To Speak Another Language, Even If I Fail…
(Make a fool of myself, because they will appreciate the effort)

Have A Short Love Affair…
(Let the passion of another city ignite a flame. Learn what it’s like to love like a native)

Go To Obscure Stores And Buy New Clothes…
(Immerse myself in another culture and dress like they do)

Walk Without A Destination…
(For there’s no such thing as getting lost in foreign land. I’m on an adventure and taking random streets and winding roads is what it’s all about)

Put Down The Camera…
(I can’t live in the moment if I’ll be looking at it behind a lens. So, I’ll let my memory hold what I’ll look back on later.)

To be completely free and uninhibited. Be a lone warrior…but come back home unchanged! 🙂

Happiness is…a cup of hot Coffee on a cold rainy day!

Yanking the hood of the sweatshirt up over my head, I sit near the frosted glass window with my cup of hot coffee.

I wrap my hands around the cup, letting the warmth soak in. It’s so lovely to just be in the present moment, soaking up each ounce of what my senses take in – the sound of the rain, the cold air around me, the warmth flowing from the cup to my hands and the smell of coffee.

I take the first sip. Aaahhhh!!! The warmth spills down my throat and I close my eyes savoring it.  

This is what small pleasures can do to you…make life seem magical. Enjoy these moments, life is beautiful!!!

 

Eight Decades of Love!

“She’s my princess,” he says. “I’m her William.”

2 years back, I moved into this 80 year old couple’s warm abode in Bombay and needless to say, I found a family away from home. They had no children, nor a family, yet they were happy, content and too much in love.

At 80 years, both Uncle and Aunty (Kishore and Shalu) have lived through decades of change. Their love too, has transcended decades. Today, each conversation between the two ends with, “I love you,” then the other will pipe in, “I love you more.”

More than ever, the vows they made 80 years ago are being tested – in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, the promise of togetherness they are keeping is a true example of what love is.

One day recently, Uncle looked at Aunty and said, “Shalu, I think I am very old and that I am going soon. Will you follow me?”….. “Like the tail of a kite, Kishore,” she responded without hesitation.

With tears in my eyes I asked them, what is the secret to their happiness and longevity. “We are still here with each other and able to speak about the old days and laugh about the good times we had together,” they smiled and responded.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paradise…is the Neighborhood Panipuri Stall!

When the street-side panipuriwallah squeezes tamarind in his concoction just before serving, I simply cannot resist the temptation!

On regular evenings you’ll not find me seated in fancy restaurants but bustling around the neighborhood’s stalls, enjoying panipuris — dipped in sour water, topped with chat-masala and tamarind juice, garnished with coriander leaves, onion and red chilly powder. Slurrrrp!!!

From Panipuri in Maharashtra to Phuchka in Bengal and Golgappa in UP, it’s amazing how I’ve savored the variations in this recipe of deliciousness after every few kilometers in India.

At times its also amusing to see people cringe when I devour the flavorful panipuris, rather religiously. “Is that even hygienic?” they murmur while fighting back the urge to drool.  

I lean forward and stick my neck far out so that the panipuri doesn’t drip on to my crisp shirt. A crunch and a gulp and it is downed in seconds. My face scrunches up, my eyes twitch and I begin to nod feverishly. And all this at a friendly neighbourhood panipuri stall that pulses to the beat of Bollywood remixes.

Love it or hate it…Panipuri is indeed the palette’s paradise!

 

Rains – Stirring Up My Fondest Childhood Memories!

Yes, Monsoon has set in, stirring up my fondest childhood memories!

The invigorating smell of damp earth, budding leaves and knee-deep water in my garden. Crisp air and dark puffs of cloud rolling across the sky.

The sounds of water gushing through the drains and the drumming of rain drops on the roof. Lightning and thunder across the darkened skies, and how I would fearfully take shelter in Mummy’s arms. The ecstasy of dancing in the rain and then Mummy would warn me, not to catch a cold.

Wading my way to school and back, with an overturned umbrella and dripping wet skirt and blouse. Peeking through the school window wondering when would the bells ring to let me go home.

 

The trees swaying like willows in the raging winds and the fun of making paper boats and watching them dance their way to oblivion.

 

Today as I stand gazing at the falling rain, all the beautiful memories flood in. I find myself on the front porch of my house nestled in my Papa’s lap enjoying the downpour.

Its only years later that I now appreciate how lovely these showers are. Not only do they wash away annoyance and grief, they leave the world around us looking fresh and renewed.