Wednesday, October 16, 2013

In Front of Death

In front of Death

I opened my eyes and stared at Death
The lustre of my life in His eyes
“Don’t fear Death when you’ve lived your life”
Or so had proclaimed the wise

In His eyes played the story of my life
The colour of my memories bygone
His arms slowly circled around me
Was it my time to move on?

I saw myself- a baby boy
Trying to touch the sky
My heart pumped with a million dreams
The well-spring of inspiration would never dry

To conquer the world with the vigour of youth
It was all mad exuberance and energy
And after many a success and failure
It was mind and body in synergy

Thoughts galloped like a mature steed
Action was not far behind
I chipped away at my goals with passion
As fame and fortune followed in kind

I stared into the eyes of Death
Who spread all the fear he could conjure
“Share my life for a day I said”
It was my turn to allure

 I had lived on the “Cloud Nine” of success
From which burst the rain of happiness
The droplets filled the ocean of contentment
It was a plan of God, executed with finesse.

I had conducted my life at will
A well-orchestrated symphony
If I were to embrace Death-it would be like brothers-
And, afterall, a last twist of Destiny.

                                                           
                                                            -11th October 2013


Friday, October 4, 2013

Letters,Calls,Messages.....and Longing

          Letters, Calls, Messages.......and Longing

"When do we realize we actually like someone? Is it when we are with them day after day, spending millions of moments together....???Or is it during that single moment of separation, which seems drawn out to eternity? Or is it at the end of that eternity when we actually realize what we missed?"

Subramanian tried to recollect her face. He was glad he could remember her smile. But he didn't have the time to notice much else. The girl had been ushered in for a minute to serve coffee to the prospective groom's party, and was quickly sent back inside.

The radio at Muttiah's saloon blared a Kannada duet. Subramanian couldn't understand it. But could connect with the tune and the possibility of  lasting romance it presented. Soon after the haircut, he went to the local post-office.

                                                .............................................................

Chandru first met her at a music concert. Classical music had brought the two of them together. She played the Tamburi for her Guru. Fortunately for Chandru, she wasn't talented enough to sing in a concert herself
(Chandru would've never thought he stood a chance, if it had been the case). They had shared a silent coffee in a canteen outside the concert hall, after Chandru caught her attention by attending 15 concerts of her Guru. At the end of the coffee, she wrote her 7 digit phone number of a small piece of paper and hurriedly thrust it in his hand.

                                                  .............................................................

Procuring her mobile number was easy enough for Rahul. He knew girls these days don't actually mind sharing their personal contact. The difficult part was getting her to constantly be in touch with him and not let her drift. He could sense he had too many competitors that way. Facebook helped. And so did Whatsapp. But everyone else had access to it too! He had to create points of difference.
          
                                                   .............................................................

Subramanian had struck a deal with the post master at the girl's village. For 2 rupees a week, his letters would bypass the girl's father and directly reach the girl. He had sent the first letter hoping against hope that the girl would respond. In the wait that followed, he had nightmares that the girl would actually report his covert advances to her father. Or the post master would actually double-cross him. But neither happened. A week later, Subramanian received her reply. Subramanian now had more than her smile to remember- her handwriting. In a burst of inspiration, he tried to imagine her face, given her handwriting. After a whole night of thought, he was none the wiser. He had to wait for the next 6 months, when the marriage would actually happen.

                                                   .............................................................  

Chandru's first few calls to her were centred around her Guru. He found that it was the only subject that actually opened her up. Any digression and she would promptly hang up within a few moments of it. Her Guru is this; her Guru is that; he gave his first concert when he was just seven.......At the end of 3 months, Chandru could've written a biography of that great man. Thankfully, somewhere down the line, the topics started to get a little more diverse. They would discuss her routine. Again,amazingly, it was centred around her Guru. Chandru had to reconcile to the fact that her Guru- in person or spirit-would be a part of their life, if at all it was destined to be "their" life, at some point of time in the future.

                                                  .............................................................  

Rahul felt he was making his presence felt. He had pursued his agenda diligently for more than 3 weeks now. Sending her "good-morning" messages; making sure he was the one who wished her "good-night" before she actually slept each night. Asking her umpteen doubts(ofcourse some of them had to be fake!!) about classes, assignments and what not! 10 days earlier, he had graduated to complimenting her. 
"You seem to know everything" was the first one. 
"You are such a brain!" was the second one.  
After a string of such seemingly mundane ones, he finally had got more personal two days earlier.
"You look beautiful when you let your hair loose" he texted and waited with bated breath for a reply.
" :) :)" said a message from the other end. A perfectly diplomatic way of ending the chat.

                                                 .............................................................

Subramanian's letters were getting better and bolder by the day. The formality in tone was lost after the first couple of letters. The inhibitions five-six letters later. Subramanian would get playful. He would compare her eyes to stars(though he never remembered having seen them) and pick a few lines out of the latest Hindi songs and dedicate it to her. She would respond in kind, throwing in a few metaphors and similes in her own way. He would always persuade her to call him by his name. She would always refuse, stating that if a wife called her husband by her name, his lifespan would reduce. Subramanian liked it when she said that. He felt there was someone who actually cared for him, apart from his parents. Yet he felt this liking was somehow more pleasant. 

Four months into the letter-exchange, his feelings for her reached a fever pitch. He was tired of trying to imagine her face, her features. He wanted to see her...atleast in a photograph. Photograph....that was it!
He dashed a letter off to her. He asked for a photograph with her next letter. And started waiting for it.

                                                 .............................................................

Chandru called her as usual. She wouldn't pick. Twenty rings later, the call got disconnected. He dialled again. The result was the same. She had never done this before. A few minutes later, he dialled her number again. There was no answer. A few hours later, he tried again. An unfamiliar voice answered it. Chandru was taken aback. Never had someone else responded to his call. Somehow, it had always been her. He put the receiver back. He started wondering what was wrong.

                                                 .............................................................

The messages had become a lot more personal of late. Rahul felt he was on the right track. Messages, instant replies, "sorry"s when the replies were a little late than usual- these had become the norm. Likes, dislikes, preferences were shared without inhibition. They spent a lot of time together during the day. And once they got back home, spent a lot of time calling and texting each other. The initial attempt by Rahul had been a little forced. But then, the whole thing seemed so natural now. Rahul would reach out to her on instinct. She would reach out to Rahul.
After a couple of months, Rahul decided something's got to give. He was tired of having to hold back his feelings for her, now that they spent such a lot of time together. The moment seemed to have arrived. On one of their usual night time chats, he suddenly popped the question:
"Would you go out with me?" and waited, his heart beating heavily.

                                                  .............................................................   

15 days passed. There was no reply from her. Subramanian was confused. Had he committed a mistake by asking her for a photograph? Had the letter somehow reached her father, who had decided to break the alliance? Or was the girl herself angry? You never knew with conservative girls. You never knew what made them angry. You never knew what made them withdraw into a cocoon, from which extricating them was near impossible. Subramanian was nervous. Had one small act of his ruined his prospective marriage?
The silence was deafening.

                                                 ............................................................. 

Two days passed. She hadn't called Chandru. The norm was a call per day. He had called her yesterday. She hadn't picked. And she hadn't called herself today. Chandru was worried. Had the unfamiliar voice reported it to her parents? Or worse her Guru? That would be the end of the world. He received 4 calls that day. Everytime, he felt the elation when the phone rang. And the sinking feeling when the voice at the other end was not hers. What was this unexpected wedge that threatened to separate them??

                                                 .............................................................

She hadn't messaged for 15 minutes now. Rahul was cursing himself. Why did he have to ask her out when everything was going so well? They were enjoying each other's company to the core. He had her attention and to an extent, affection. Rahul now felt there was no need to ask her out. Should he message her and apologise? Or should he wait? Would his question be the end of it? His mind was into all sorts of calculations. His eyes and heart were waiting for that one message......

                                                 .............................................................

Subramanian received a letter. It bore the post mark of her village. He opened it and could see her handwriting. He rushed to read the reply.

"Hope you're doing well. Sorry for the delay in reply. The photo I had was one from school. Didn't want to send that. Had to arrange for a saree. Had to book a time in the studio to get myself photographed. All without Appa getting to know about it. Post master uncle helped a lot. Hope you like the photo. The colour of the saree.........." the letter went on. Subramanian opened the cover enclosed with the letter. He would never miss her anymore.


The phone started ringing. Chandru's excitement was a little abated now. He had resigned himself to the fact he had lost her. He was thrilled when he heard her voice from the other end.

"I had to go to my Guru's village for two days. It was at very short notice. Please excuse me."

Chandru felt relief wash all over him. He had been dejected, angry and worried moments ago. 

"That's ok. Make sure you tell me next time!" he said with a cheery voice, before they changed topics.


Rahul was still cursing himself, when he finally received a reply 20 minutes later. His phone vibrated, indicating a notification.
The text was from her ofcourse. He expected the worst. The message only said 

"Dyu want me to let my hair loose or tie it up, tomorrow?"

"When do we realize we actually like someone? Is it when we are with them day after day, spending millions of moments together....???Or is it during that single moment of separation, which seems drawn out to eternity? Or is it at the end of that eternity when we actually realize what we missed?"

                                                                                                - 4th October 2013