Friday, 23 December 2011

Soul Mate

* actual creation date 21st July 2010

All through the jests and jokes,
Reality has sunk through the pores,
What bites me is that I couldn't see,
That you were the perfect Soulmate for me...

Drawing in from your deep eyes,
I am afraid to live with lies,
Never knew where this was headed,
All misconceptions have now faded,

Now I have no choice but weep,
Because you were the perfect Soulmate for me...

You look so aloof and uncaring,
It hurts me to have thought of you as fun,
I wish I could go back in time,
To change all that I have done,

And my heart has start to rip,
Why were you the perfect Soulmate for me?

And now as you turn away,
Life vows for us to part ways,
I know things can't always go my way,
Laughing hard to hide my tears,
Giving up what I hold most dear,

I wish I could have you for keeps,
After all, you are the perfect Soulmate for me!

Sunday, 20 November 2011

7 years later

Zeenia picked up her luggage and was waiting on the railway platform with anticipation. Three months in a different city had made her home sick. She loved travelling, yet, this time she felt a need to return to her roots.

A strong gust of wind hit her face as the train stormed into the platform. Clambering her luggage, she ran unsteadily towards her compartment as the entire platform became a flurry of activity. The cool air of the air conditioner was a welcome relief to the dry heat that was so common of the city she was leaving behind. Pushing past people, she located her seat and began adjusting her luggage. Settling down in a bustling compartment she gazed outside the stained glass window noting that the train would start in about 5 minutes. Everybody seemed to have settled in.

As the train pulled out of the station she allowed her mind to wander. The last three months had been a whirlwind. Her book had become an overnight best-seller and she had spent majority of time giving seminars in the University or featuring on TV shows. Her dream was a reality, yet now she was finally going home.

The old lady sitting next to her simpered trying to establish a conversation. She turned her attention towards her and smiled automatically. A few minutes of communication brought light to the fact that her grandson had obtained another seat in a compartment for two and would she, Zeenia, mind switching with him?

It would have been beyond blasphemous to refuse this request to the family audience in that compartment hence she complied and moved her luggage out.

She came by the compartment and noted that her co passenger had taken a detour somewhere while their luggage lay scattered on both the seats. Roughly piling it on one side, she quickly arranged her bags under the the seat, and fished her phone out of her bag to update her bestfriend of the latest happenings.

His voice reached her before she could even see him. Footsteps accompanied with a humming of a song. She startled and looked ahead as she finally saw whom she was sharing her compartment with.

"Jawwad!"

"Zeenia!" he said stopping in his tracks, "What a surprise!"

They shook hands as the train lurched into another station. He settled opposite her. His expression somewhere between disbelief and happiness. She suspected her face reflected his. Suddenly the entire world around them had become a non entity. Awkward glances leading to awkward questions. Soon laughter and familiarity sunk in.

The next hour was spent in nostalgia as they recollected the years spent together, discussed mutual friends and enquired after each others families. They spoke about everything under the sky except what mattered the most.

"So Zeenia!" said Jawwad settling into his seat comfortably, "28 and author of a best selling novel! You didn't surprise anyone there!"

He handed her a cup of coffee from the vendor and she felt herself blush at his compliment.

He raised his eyebrows.

"Have you read it yet?" she asked expectantly.

"What do you think?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I don't know what to think." she muttered, "The Jawwad I knew back then would have read it, this Jawwad is new to me."

A dark look crossed his face momentarily before he said "He wouldn't be if you had bothered to be in touch."

Silence hung between them. He had finally touched on the conversation that she had been religiously avoiding. Yet the moment had to pass.

She caught her breath but then proceeded to ask, "I am sorry, but I don't know what are you doing now." She had a perfect idea of what he did and the incredulous look on his face clarified that he knew that she knew.

"Do you feel even a shred of guilt that you didn't bother to keep a track of me like I bothered keeping of you?" he teased.

"I am sorry." she said testily determined to not fall for that, "So what is it that you do?"

"The same thing I always wanted to do." he said playfully.

"Would I have seen or heard any of your work?" she asked playing along.

"I doubt it. I have moved my base to the city of my dreams." he said.

"You had changed your mind about that city as far as I can remember."

"It is change of heart that matters. And now I am finally there."

"Like you always wanted to be." she smiled.

The next few minutes were spent discussing his career but she couldn't contain herself and ended up asking, "Why didn't you read my book?"

"I believe It was you who promised me the first signed copy of any novel you write!" he retorted.

"That was 7 years back! I wasn't even sure if I would ever publish a book back then. And how could I give you the signed copies when I didn't know where you were"

"Promises are promises." he said stubbornly.

"There were only five signed copies. The publishers gave them away in some contest or something." she said sadly.

"Then you can hardly complain!" he said with mock anger.

"Jawwad---"

"I must go have a smoke." he said laughing at her angry glares.

He was gone a few minutes when she got up to take out her family album to show it to him. As she rummaged for her bags, her hand accidently knocked his bag pack which fell to the floor spilling out the contents.

She bent down to scoop his possessions and froze;

-- In there were five copies of her book and her heart knew even before she opened each that they were all signed copies!

Disclaimer: The character names (Jawwad and Zeenia) bear resemblance to the lead in Pakistani Drama "Malal". Yet the story is mine and so are the journeys of the characters.


Monday, 24 October 2011

His Voice

I hear his voice,
Slow and reassuring it is almost musical
Despite occasionally bordering on whimsical
I could listen to him forever...

The tinge of intrigue that fills it so,
The hint of amusement he likes me to know,
The extreme annoyance his voice often shows,
The surge of surprise to which it sometimes bows,
I could listen to him forever...

His voice is a song in my heart,
There would be no end,
For there was no start,
I know I have been listening to him forever.

Sunday, 16 October 2011

There is something about Mohit Chauhan....

Who would have thought that the whimsical voice of my childhood memory of the song "Dooba Dooba" would one day become a full blown love affair with the man in the picture-- Mohit Chauhan!
The soulful voice almost on the brink of sounding as if sleepy captured my heart and continues to hearten it with every new song he sings! After bidding adieu to "Silk Route", Mohit Chauhan's received acclamation in Bollywood with the song "Guncha" in Main Meri Patni aur Woh. A song that I heard for the first time last week in MTV Unplugged.
And no prizes for guessing that I loved it!

So when did I fall in love with this man?
A faint flicker formed in my heart while listening to the haunting "Khoon Chala" in the theatre (Rang De Basanti). Back then, at the age of 14, I attributed it to the feel of the movie. Yet the song remained on my computer.

However, there was no turning back after Tum Se Hi (Jab We Met). The slow, steady almost poetic caressing of words that describe a man pining for a girl who made his life. Which girl wouldn't want to be serenaded with a song that describes her so?
Kuch khaas hai... Kuch paas hai... Kuch Ajnabee ehsaas hai. At 17, I was well past the age of the puppy "first love" yet the slow crooning of a certain Mr. Chauhan made me weak in my knees!
Who does not like the peppy and chirpy "Masakali?" Which girl hasn't flapped her arms while the song played in the background? I know I have!
With New York, Mohit Chauhan gave every broken hearted man his anthem. "Tu ne Jo na kaha" was played by every aashiq on repeat. A slow and painful trial a man goes through when the love of his life finds happiness elsewhere.
"Ye Dooriya" did not replicate the success of Tum Se Hi but it was the only thing that left an impact on audience as they left the theatre watching "Love Aaj kal" :P
Kaminey may have been a hardcore action drama yet the light teasing yet sensuous "Pehli Baar Mohabbat" became a favourite for rainy nights.
His first award came with "Pee Loo", a love ballad with an edge of sexual tension. Portrayed beautifully on screen with a rugged looking Emraan Hashmi and the docile Prachi Desai.
"Tujhe Bhula Diya" is undoubtedly the most popular song coming from this singer. It talks of the journey of heartbreak. A severely painful journey. What gives the song a golden touch is the pain infused in the voice of the singer.
After this he has sung many beautiful songs in Tanu Weds Manu, Lafangey Parindey, Aarakshan etc.
Yet the masterpiece everyone has been waiting for is here-- Rockstar!
Mohit Chauhan has re invented himself with this film. A film which belongs to him! Save the 2 songs by female singers and1 by the legendary AR Rehman all the songs are by Mohit Chauhan.
You are forced to accept the versatility of the man as he screams a power packed "Saadda haq" with the same ease as he croons the calming "Tum Ho".

Mohit Chauhan is a Legend! A rare singer who can infuse so much of his own pain, love, hate, distress in a song that you are forced to accept it as a situation of your life and cry along!

I will end this one sided love story with something I keep telling my friends all the time, "Even if Mohit Chauhan yawns... I'll like it!" :D

Is this Love? Maine na Jaana... aaahaa haa aahaaa...


Saturday, 8 October 2011

Small Something...

When life pushed me deep into a pit,
Many friends scrambled at the edge,

Some offered sympathy in sync n rhyme,
Some stated their problems bigger than mine,
Some tried to pull me but gave up with time,
Some threw more dirt in and laughed at my face,
Many didn't notice my disappearance in the rat race,

But my Best Friend,
Jumped into the pit without a care,
And marvelled at my stupidity to end up there,
Together we created a path and rose up again....

Wednesday, 28 September 2011

Not so New Girl in the City

Hyderabad. Three years ago this name represented nothing more than Charminar and Biryani to me. Three years later, here I am contemplating the mood of this city.
To every outsider Hyderabad is always Biryani, South India and "Hau nako Baatan". Every restaurant in India claims to be making Hyderabadi Biryani, Lemon rice and Guntur Idli is a delicacy even at functions in Malaysia, Angrez has made the Old city lingo a brand and the IIT/AIEEE aspirants will curse Hyderabadi's every year for taking off a chunk of their seats.
Well, I am here to elaborate on none of that.
I will talk instead of Hyderabadi Rains!
As a Mumbaikar, I am used to a healthy (not really) dosage of rains between June-September even if it involves swimming to reach ones destination. Rain has always been an important part of life.
In my first year here, there was no denying the fact that Monsoon was not a favourite season of this city. Sparse showers here and there. June-September passed uneventfully and sometimes with glaring sun! I made peace with the city by listening to "Iktara" on repeat and willing it to rain.
It seems my "Iktara" penance worked! 2010 was the year of Monsoon! It rained all the 12 months bringing out the best of my writing skills and moods.
My luck soon wore out with 2011 and it seemed rain had ditched Hyderabad once again.
Then today, the wind set free and gradually the clouds began to gather in the horizon. I started to hope against hope glancing furtively out of the balcony. I was rewarded well. It drizzled... and soon there was a downpour! Rushing out I let the rain drench me from head to toe bringing back memories of the many rains in Hyderabad.
It was then that it hit me that this might be my last rain in Hyderabad.
It rains everywhere in the world but the best part of Hyderabad's rain lies in its unpredictability. The sense of anticipation that follows the clouding of the sky. The distress that follows if it rains everywhere else except your area. The excitement you feel when there is rain at one end of the road and the other side is stark dry. The triumph you feel when it rains despite rain haters wishing that the clouds would pass. The happiness that engulfs you when after a heated day the rain cools you down.
Where else in the world would friends start a string of text messages if they notice it clouding and probe if it has begun raining in your area? The rare shower will make you reminiscence of love be it reciprocated or unrequited. It is a rare moment when you add "adrak" to your tea after you have finished enjoying the rain.
Rain in Hyderabad is an event. Everyone is aware of it. It is not a regularity... It is a novelty!
A Mystery!
That makes Hyderabad Rains special.

And I will miss them.

P:S- If it is still raining in your area. Don't miss out. Get drenched. Rains are beautiful and Hyderabad's.... even more so!


Saturday, 24 September 2011

Rain doesn't fall forever...


Tiny translucent drops glaze the windows

The rain falls steadily as they gaze out

Together for the last time tonight

Smiling at the disappearance of the last sunlight

Two mugs of coffee turning cold

Fingers inches apart yet they don’t hold

The tension lies thick in the air

Mingled with longing and care

He traces her face to commit to memory

For there will be no photos to prove this theory

That they had loved and lost each other the same night

The world had torn them apart with all its might

She would have destroyed the world had he wanted the same

Yet what was to speak of a relationship that had no name?

She stirs her coffee aimlessly without meaning to drink

Their journey together had come to its brink

Tomorrow she would leave and never be back

He had come to bid her his final goodbye

Wanting to comfort her and take all the blame

Yet how could he make her stop without a claim?

They rose with their coffee mugs and emptied them in the sink

Laughing they closed the distance within as he held her in his arms

Reveling in the companionship for one last time

Before they would be separated by the society’s norms

It was with smiles that they drew apart

She went into her room and plopped into the bed

He sat by the fire place his eyes red

He promised he’d be gone before she would wake

She knew she wouldn’t sleep a wink whatever it takes

And sure enough at sun break she stood by her window

Watched him walk ahead into the meadows

He glanced back one last time, his eyes shining

She waved with finality and watched him disappear into the lining….

Sunday, 11 September 2011

1. Rainy Reunion

He hated the rain. It made him think and that was the last thing he wanted to do now. He kicked the tyre of his bike willing it to jerk back in action. To no avail. Cursing he dragged the vehicle to a nearby shed. Wiping his brow he noted that the rain had done a lot of damage to his brakes. It messed up the road, his bike and his peace of mind!
Leaning against the thin pole of the shed he closed his eyes. The loud pattering of the drops hitting the metal roof engulfed him. Swearing, he let his mind wander. The smell of the wet soil filled his senses bringing back her words, "I love the smell of the rain." "It is the most romantic smell ever!" she often said.
How could a smell ever be romantic? He often wondered.
Smiling to himself he remembered how she never spoke much sense. Not that she wasn't intelligent, she enjoyed-- he abruptly jerked.
He couldn't afford to think of her. Running his hand over his hair he kicked the tyre of his bike again.
Her thoughts were not easy to suppress!

***

She stood by her window watching the swift raindrops hit the puddle below. The whooshing wind had glazed the glass pane, she raised her hand to wipe it but ended up tracing his name instead.
Sighing she walked away from the window and sat down by her table. She loved dancing in the rain, smelling the fragrance of the vibrant and alive earth. She heard the door slam. It was her sister. She walked into the room drenched from head to toe.
"You missed it! The weather outside is awesome." she said lightly shaking the droplets out of her hair.
"I was not in a mood to get drenched." she said dismissively walking out the room.
"You are hardly in a mood to do anything nowadays." she heard her sister grumble.
She walked angrily ahead. How could she have not gone out in the rain? This never happened before. He hated the rain but she didn't. He hated a lot of things she conceded and came to a sudden halt.
With a shock of realization she remembered that she had traced his name on the window. What if her sister saw it?
Running back towards the room she flung the door open and rushed to the window. His name had faded into the mist. Just as he had faded from her life.
Tears welled in her eyes as she sank by the window.

***

The rain refused to stop. He took out his cellphone from his front pocket and with a gasp of horror realised that water had seeped into it. It did not need a genius to ascertain that it would never work again. He never hated the rain more.
"You hate the rain?" she had glared.
"Yes."
"You know nothing about happiness." she had said in a mock angry tone.
How little did they ever agree on. Yet when they did agree... it was Magical!
That is how they had ended the magic. Neither of them said it but they both understood and went their separate ways. Beyond the magic they knew that they were never meant to be. As an unspoken promise they never allowed the old familiarity to sink in.
The façade was on.
Coming back into present, he wondered if she was enjoying the rain somewhere. It would be just so like her to enjoy the droplets wash over her face and onto her outstretched hands.
He knew that she must be just as preoccupied with the rain as he was. Yet, was she enjoying it? The thought refused to go.
It was important to him that she enjoy the rain. And suddenly he felt an urgent need to be with her. To share the rain with her. The feeling was above any objection his mind put forward.
Unmindful of the people on the road, his sabotaged phone and his hate for the rain, he stepped out of the shed. The rain splattered on him.
He outstretched his hand and inhaled the fragrance of the wet soil.

***

The tears had dried on her face leaving their trail behind. She got up to wash her face when her phone started blinking. It was a number she did not recognize.
"Hello," said a voice that was a part of her soul.
"You?" she asked.
"This is not the time to be in the house. The smell of the rain is overpowering." he said urgently.
"Are you? Are you out in the rain." she asked with disbelief.
"Yes! And so should you be."
The line went dead.
A smile formed on the corners of her lips. Dropping the phone she ran out of the house.

***

He handed over the phone to the bewildered old lady.
"That was the life saving phone call you wanted to make?" she demanded angrily.
"Yes!" he smiled. "It saved our lives."
Saying so he ran in the direction of her house --- to share the rain with her.

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Rainy Reflections


“Today I drop the façade

Lower ever slightly the walls

Seek what I have eluded

And promise to not deceive the deluded”


It is a pity that Monsoon strikes just once in a year.

Rain is my friend in every form, be it the light drizzle of tear drops falling inconsistently, the sudden shower that leaves before you notice it or the rush of water pellets from darkened skies that flood the earth (and roads :P). I hold no discrimination.

The shift of the violent breeze, the clouding of the skies, the smell of the ever alive earth and the stage is set for the rain to fall and me to write.

Yes, the rain is also my closest friend because it awakens a side of me that doesn't write very often.

I write stories my sober self would never call mine and yet I am proud of them.

It is a shame to leave them in my notebooks and my friends share the same opinion for one of them went ahead and created this blog.

So here I am to write.

And it is such an irony that the day I set to type this there isn't a cloud in sight!

But then there are stories... stories of the many rainy days of the year gone by that will soon fill this page.

There will be no escape for they will always be here for all to see and judge through the time... until the day I have no more to say of the rain!

Chances are... it will rain tonight!