Love.....is it?

The Durga Puja holidays had started and My branch-mate Pawan and I were returning home. We were at the railway station, without ticket and with two heavy bags to accompany us in the 17-hour long journey, waiting for the adventure and the train to come. The train trundled on the platform and stopped in front of us. Though a few people got into the train from our station, to our dismay, the train was filled with multitudes of people. We were in the sleeper coach and each berth had at least four people resting their butts on it, some were teetering at the edge, and some, who actually had confirmed reservation, mumbling imprecations at the general ticket and waiting ticket holders. And there were we, without ticket and hope that we would get a seat for the night. 

A good old man allowed us to chain our bags below his seat. Then we sat at the door, it was difficult for our fat butts to fit in the narrow door but we managed. It was pitch dark outside, probably the train was passing through village fields. The cold October air augmented into squall because of train’s speed and tousled our hairs. Except for occasional malodour that came from nowhere, it was serene. Had we had our tickets, we would have been lying on our berth headed to a humdrum journey. But that consternation that TT might come from behind and ask for ticket, those chilly gushes of air, that tranquilizing darkness, that uncertainty made that journey a travel.

There is something with the late hours, darkness and solitude; it brings out the emotional side in you.“It was her birthday today,” suddenly Pawan whispered in a pensive mood. “Whose? Shaina’s?” I asked.

“Yes….”

“So….you must be happy….why are you so wistful?”

“She didn’t pick up my call….”

“Hmmm….what’s with you and Shaina? I have only heard bits and pieces of information….what is between you guys?”

“The truth is….there is nothing between us…never was. We used to study together till class 6^th, then I moved to lucknow and we were separated. But I was never actually able to forget her. Later on we connected through facebook…..she became my best friend….at least that’s what I considered her….”

“So let me get this straight…..you haven’t met a girl since past probably eight years and she is your best friend.” Though he was all composed and serious, which he seldom is, I found this fact peculiarly hilarious. He gave me the most serious look that his chubby round face could manage. “OK…..then what happened?” I tried to act as wistful as he.

“We have met…..once….in last summer vacations only. Everything was fine until she fell for a guy who is five or six years older than she. He had an unpopular track record of eight exes. But the problem was that…..he was out of her league. She would cry for him. I would console her saying that even if it would have worked out…..you would have become the ninth…..nothing else. There is no point crying for him, who don’t even care for you. She would get irritated. Then one fine day, she blocked me. Although, she did unblock me later, but things haven’t been the same.”

“You see…. I can tell you the exact same thing which you told her….”

“Yeah…. I understand that I am being a fool…..but still….I liked her…..we were best friends….”

“Best Friends?.....Really? You think this is what best friends are like? You thought her to be your best friend. If you call a bitter gourd by the name of banana and expect it to taste sweet……whose fault is it? When you bite, it will be bitter…..because it was bitter gourd……you called it a banana…..it is not gourd’s fault…it is bound to be that way….it’s yours fault that you tied irrational expectations to it.”

He looked at me for a while as if I was his Shaina and then said, “out of all the fruits……you had to compare her to a banana.” We both laughed.

Earlier Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Nicholas Sparks and now Bollywood have filled our minds with unreasonable ideas of romance. So much that we have started accepting only those things that appear to be picturesque, perfect or cute. A boy in love with a girl since class sixth…..cute isn’t it? But how practical is it? After years of no connection, how can one fall in love like that? First love is a highly overrated thing in our society…..especially in India where people aren't allowed to fall in love and once if they fall.....its more than enough. Most of the Indians live their whole life tolerating a person in the name of first love or true love or in worse cases, forced love. Clichéd stories have filled us with illogical notions like love at first sight, the girl you will love will initially reject you, you have to suffer to woo the girl, the boy should make the first move and such rubbish junk. Because of this, guys undergo unreasonable humiliation or resort to stalking the girl. They don’t understand, in real life a no is a no! Girls abstain themselves from instigating a relationship with a guy. People create baseless fantasies around a seemingly attractive person of opposite sex and call it love.

Most of the people are in love with the idea of falling in love or having an immaculate love story. The truth is that, what may appear to be a great story to tell might not be a good story to live but a great life lived will always become a good story told.

P.S. yes, I am writing this post after watching Pyar ka punchnama 2 :P
And travelling without ticket later on turned out to be a bad idea when we were completely in clutches of sleep and still couldn't manage to get a seat. However, no TT came for checking. :P

From Linkin Park to Coldplay

I met an old friend yesterday, probably after three years.  The irony is that, we used to boast about us being best friends back in school days, but as the school got over, our friendship succumbed to the sinister blows of distance. Isn’t it the fate of most of friendships? People meet, they talk, they connect and then gradually they part ways, never to meet again. We convince ourselves with sham thoughts like ‘longer the distance, stronger the bond’; but deep within we know we are losing touch. And then one fine day we realise ‘oh man! It’s been three years and we haven’t talked. How time have changed! It’ll be too inappropriate to talk now’; and in this way that bond dies-only memory remains.

I was at a bakery shop, trying to figure out which pastry was befitting to ruin all the sweat I have oozed out from my body in gym, when suddenly I heard an oddly familiar voice, “Chatur, you haven’t changed much….still at the same corner of the shop.” I turned around to find a round face, with a conspicuous mole at the bottom left of the chin, smiling at me. Suddenly waves of memories were ebbing in and out of my mind. “Hi Seema! It’s been a long time,” I stammered. “Yeah…very long time. Look at you….you have lost weight….no more the golu-molu sorts,” she guffawed. “And contrary to me….you have gained some….no more the hot-chick-talk-of-the-town sorts,” I snapped. “Haven’t learned chivalry still eh?” We both laughed.

We quickly did our business at the shop and then she offered to drop me home as she was on scooty and I on foot. “It will not be a problem, as I have to go the same way,” she said. “Seema….I don’t live in Janakipuram anymore....I changed my house about the time we left school. I now live in Priyadarshini and it lies in opposite direction to where you are bearing to” I interrupted. “Ohh….still…I am in no hurry and I can do atleast this much for an old best friend,” she winked. “Fine,” I said and hopped back as a pillion passenger.

It was evening and the square was thronged, it took her some effort to incise her way through the heavy traffic but she managed and finally we were on the empty single lane which led to my house. When we reached, I offered her to come inside and have some water. “Are you trying to return the favor? If so, then don’t do it….because it was no favor, it was what I would have done for any friend,” she said. “Take it any way….but you have to come…I insist,” I said. She agreed and came in.

She sat in the living room as I brought a glass of water and some biscuits. “So you are in Durgapur right? Bengali babu,” she smiled. “Yeah…unfortunately,” I gave a furtive response. “How are the studies going on?” she asked again after a brief pause. “Fine,” I replied. She was there trying to make a conversation and I was there thinking what to say. There were so many questions I wanted to ask, about her boyfriend, her mother who was suffering from cancer, her designing dream which she wasn’t able to pursue; but I was unable to ask. I was just wondering will it be proper to ask now, after so many years. Afterall, we were almost strangers now. Will it not be too intrusive? Will she like it?

Meanwhile, she took my laptop and surfed something and then put it back. “I think I should leave,” finally she was the one again to break the uneasy silence. “Yeah,” I nodded nervously. She went out, hopped on her scooty, put on her helmet and was about to press auto start when she stopped. She glanced at me. “You remember I said to you in the bakery shop that you haven’t changed much?”

“Yes..”

“I was wrong. You have changed……a lot. So much that if someone would have told me what I just witnessed I would have never agreed that he was talking about you.”

“I don’t understand Seema…”

“You know I can just ride back without saying a word, but unlike the present you….i don’t like keeping things in my heart. I mean what is wrong with you dear? Earlier you used to be so garrulous…..everyday you would have some stories to tell me. And now….when we meet after three years, you have nothing to talk to. I saw in your laptop…..your most played songs have changed from linkin park to coldplay. You now put quotes as your desktop background whereas earlier it was always some cartoon character. You have become reticent….or atleast….this is how I perceive you now. I just wish you get back to how you used to be. Bye”

Then she whizzed off leaving me in a swamp of confusion. I was astounded because she hadn’t changed a bit. She was still the same candid girl who didn’t like to hold back anything while I, as she described, have changed from linkin park to coldplay. The worst part was that, I couldn’t figure out the exact transition time, maybe it was around the time when I turned eighteen. Maybe, that’s why they have set eighteen as the age of becoming an adult, because it is around this age that we lose all our childlike perspective. We start assuming a lot, judging a lot and do little thinking. And then I realized, that’s the root of all my problems. I have stopped being a child. I have stopped seeing the galaxy in the foam of coffee, maybe that’s why the hot coffee burns my lips. I have stopped setting out paper-boats in water filled drains, maybe that’s why the rain has started irking me. I have stopped finding these little pleasures in life, maybe that’s why the life is not interesting anymore. I just wish….. I could become that child again and never grow up.

Life's centre

Ping! My phone beeped again. It was the third whatsapp message. I was at the dinner table, sitting beside my mom. I had ignored the first two messages because of the mom factor, but this had to be answered. So, I held my breath, focused my energy and finally made that valiant step; I took out the phone from my pocket while chapatti was still residing in my plate. And my worst nightmare came true! “Khila le phone ko b……ye b patla hua ja rha h tei tarah!!” my mom snapped. GOD! I wonder wherefrom mothers get that mammoth level of sarcasm. “I am almost done mom, this is important,” I tried to reason with her. Now there’s this rule with mothers- when they are in a mood to scold you…..don’t try to reason with them! It is probably more dangerous than going to Afganistan without a bulletproof vest. Well, I broke that rule. “Whom do you talk to? Your friends also leave their food and drown in that 5 inch screen? Do you even know how much effort goes into cooking that food? How will you know……you are always too busy with the phone and your useless friends to help me in the kitchen. Make your phone your mom….ask it to cook your food.” There was no escape from these accusations. I had no option but to keep my eyes down and listen and hope that this lecture doesn’t turn out to be one of those one hour lectures which cover all the problems ranging from my poor grades to global warming and link them to that innocent device. Unfortunately, it did.

It’s true that my mom simply hates the new generation of smart phones but at that time, her chiding was legitimate. I must say, I was addicted to my phone! When my whatapp stopped, my facebook opened, when facebook stopped, quora opened, when quora stopped, a message came on whatsapp and the cycle continued. However, the irony was that, in spite of the fact that I used my phone 24x7, I seldom made calls from it! This used to infuriate my mother even more. For me, the phone used to be a means of escape; when I had to escape from the boring lecture but couldn’t bunk the class, facebook came to rescue, when I found the long assignments too monotonous to do, whatsapp message used to pop up. The fact that I overlooked was that, although the phone provided an escape from my problems, it didn’t solve them. I didn’t realize, but slowly this means to escape from world became my world. Now this was because of multiple reasons, but more on that later. The big picture was that, due to some circumstances, I had inextricably interwined the phone in my lifestyle such that I couldn’t imagine my life without that 5-inch box.

Just a few days back, something happened which changed my perspective. My phone stopped charging. I did what every Indian does when his phone malfunctions; I restarted the phone. I always wonder what’s the logic behind this, but more often than not, it actually solves the problem. I wish we could do the same to people, when they malfunction, simply restart them! Poor thing! God forgot to give us a power button! In my case, however, the problem was not solved. I tried every other card in my deck, changed the data-cable, changed the adaptor, restored factory settings but the battery kept draining its power and then finally, the phone got switched off. That moment was one of the many full stops that I have encountered in my life. I remember, I sat on my bed for over an hour in contemplation. I simply stared blankly at the wall. There was not one particular thing that crossed my mind, rather my mind became a thronged square with an immovable traffic. Various problems were honking, insecurities were crashing, anxieties were involved in petty fight with optimism. All this because that one thing, which I had made the center of my life. was not working.

I spent the next two or three days in such conflicts and moments of isolation. Anyone who tried to invade my isolation irked me. I was so gloomy, so sad. Apparently for no reason! After that, I started accepting the fact that it was gone. I started doing things which I used to escape from. Most of my problems were actually getting solved! Earlier I used to lament that I do not study properly because the professors do not teach well, perhaps they don’t know anything. I realized that I did not study properly because I did not study at all, it had nothing to with the profs, they were doing their business properly. Miraculously, my class notes started getting up to date. I was not sitting in the class like a retard who wasn’t aware of what’s going on. And after about a week, I found myself writing my first blog post. Earlier, I always used to think that I would write something which a wide variety of people will appreciate but I never wrote any such thing. When I published my first blog post and after that went into the hostel mess, there were many people who appreciated my effort. And this process continued for several days in classroom, in jhoops( a makeshift dhaba outside our college campus) and wherever I went. I was elated. The fact that those many people actually read my blog was a matter of sheer pleasure for me. Meanwhile, no one with whom I used to chat over fb or whatsapp other than my siblings and parents took pains to call me and ask that why I wasn’t online or not replying. Probably they didn’t notice. At the back of my mind, I had anticipated this.

We make somethings or some people the center of our life and start revolving around them, but we forget that our life is not a circle with a fixed radius, rather it’s a tan curve which tends to infinity. This conclusion was not only because of losing a phone, rather it was triggered by it, this incident was a catalyst to a reaction which I had been battling with since past few months. It was about some people who used to be the center of my life’s circle, but now I couldn’t even find them in my plane. Life is about eliminating such points. Nothing should be the center of your life other than you. I had made something the center of my life and when it was gone, I thought how I am gonna live now! But here I was, doing absolutely fine, perhaps even better. Ever seen a boy playing with a stone tied to a string. He revolves the stone in circle. What happens when the string breaks? The stone flies away. We over rate things such as first love or money, we ourselves limit our scope by tying us to some feelings or people or things. Just imagine where you would land if you simply snap the string which is tying you to your life’s center.

P.S. Initially I was thinking of taking a new smart phone, but now I am content with a small Samsung guru handset and my mom is the happiest creature on planet.