The most easiest of human traits is perhaps our power to connect with people, their emotions and feel. Yet, it is only seldom that we let ourselves do exactly that – feel.
Why is it easier for us to connect over the pains of a complete stranger; raise likes, votes and shares than connecting with the people we meet almost every single day?
I live far away from home. I am one of those who can immerse themselves into solidarity and not care about the world.
But I care because I choose to.
Continue reading “To Connect”
“How many are still left?” Lalit asked Jitendra.
“Only two- Coffee beans and Urad dal, then finally we will be able to say Mission Shopping List Accomplished!” Jitendra checked and rechecked the bit of paper his mother had given him.
“Alright, we could buy it from Rao Uncle’s store. Let’s get this done with, I am getting hungry.” Said Aryan and his stomach obediently grumbled in cue.
As they rode their bicycles through the twists and turns of their town, they went over the whole day once again. So much had happened in a single day. The morning had started with all of them anxious about the hurdle race. Aryan had to prepare a consolation speech just in case Prat Praatik somehow won, but it had not come to that thankfully. Jitendra had won. The trophy now hung proudly with other medals and awards in Jitendra’s bedroom. After the race they had headed to Jitendra’s home where they had had a great lunch. Mrs Nath was an exceptional cook. Lalit and Aryan shamelessly jumped at every occasion to visit Jitendra’s house and satiate their gastronomical demons. Jitendra’s parents were a very warm couple and treated Lalit and Aryan almost as their sons. After a delightful lunch they had played a few video games. Jitendra and Aryan had together squashed Lalit much to his annoyance and to cheer him up Aryan and Jitendra destroyed each other’s bots.
Fun and banter had always been their way of life. It still was. However, when Lalit lost his father to a fatal car accident it had been very difficult to draw out Lalit from outside his room. He’d always stayed holed up inside his room. Jitendra and Aryan themselves had taken time to let the fact sink in. They had let Lalit be for a week. But after that they had barged in, broken his door, picked him up and wrapped him in a bag and threatened to throw him off the bridge if he didn’t promise he would get back to his normal life. Death hadn’t been easy on anyone ever. Period. But life moved on and hence one has to move on as well. The departed would forever remain a part of you. They will always remain in your heart. Aryan and Jitendra did not know what Lalit was going through but they knew isolating oneself wasn’t the solution. Slowly, Lalit had come back to his normal self. It had been two years since the night the accident happened. The three boys were just that –boys, but that one experience had matured them up.
They had reached the Azad chowk, Rao Uncle’s shop was two blocks away. They were waiting for the traffic to give way. Unlike some of their peers these respected the traffic rules and obediently waited for the lights to turn green. A black sedan drove up to their side. Aryan – the forever Narcissus of the group – checked his reflection in the mirror. It took him full five seconds to realize that behind the tinted glass peered a familiar face. Alexandria was looking at him with much amusement.
Oh come on! Not her again. He thought. She seemed to be able to hear his thoughts as her face broke into an amused smile at that moment; her white teeth gleamed from behind the tinted windows. He can’t help but smile back sheepishly. All animosity from the morning seemed to dissolve. The lights changed. The sedan moved away. Aryan followed his friends to Rao uncle’s shop. Unbeknownst to both of them something had moved that day.
Yellow lights, white lights! They dazzle me, they are
All that I can see, as I walk unseeing the faces passing by
As I simply walk, walk lost
Lost in thoughts of you, of us, of those promises Continue reading “Walk into the Blank”
“I am Alexandria by the way. And you are…?”, brushing off the dirt she looked up.
And for the first time at that moment – blue met black.
A loud cheer erupted. Aryan turned around in time to see Jitendra mid-air holding tightly onto the trophy for his dear life.
Continue reading “Ambigram ~ Chapter 2 (Continued)”
The crowd was abuzz with excitement. The winner of the 200m Men’s Hurdle race was about to be announced. It had been very close, so close. Jitendra and Pratik, a classmate had crossed the finishing line at almost the same time. The administration was busy going over and over the video loop of the last second.
Continue reading “Ambigram ~Chapter 2”
The Malhotra household reverberated with the sound of the large glass vase crashing in the main hall.
“Abhimanyu!” a shrill scream echoed exactly three seconds after that.
Fifteen minutes later, Continue reading “Ambigram ~ Chapter-1”
She was drowning. It was four in the evening. Solid bars of golden sunlight seeped in through the French windows on the left. Endless rows of books were stacked along the right wall- each of them was properly and alphabetically arranged. One could smell the fresh polish on the wooden floor. A huge globe in bronze stood at the far end of the hall. A glass table stood at the center. There on the table rested three cups of tea- each of them left untouched.
She held her cup a little tighter, trying to extract as much warmth as she can from it. Continue reading “Ambigram~ Prologue”
It was raining as I sat alone in the car en route to the airport. My eyes followed the trails of water left by the raindrops that splattered across the window. My mind went through all the reflections that the kaleidoscope I found in Nagpur could provide. Continue reading “Nagpur Diaries – Z”
That morning we had visited the Futala Lake again. It was a different scenario than it is in the evenings. There were morning walkers. Some were doing Yoga by the lake. There was a group carrying huge DSLRs. Continue reading “Nagpur Diaries -9”
There are all kinds of hardships. It is not the good times but the bad times in our life that define us. Today you are here, tomorrow you can be somewhere else. Continue reading “Nagpur Diaries- 8”