Timeletting

It was a strange affliction.

That no doctors
Or medicines
Or injections
Or care
Or prayers

Seemed to heal.
How can it be cured?

I wondered as I walked through the narrow path leading to the wider road.

Then I spotted this leech.

Grey, slimy and inviting
It lay still on the road.

I walked past in disgust.
It must have died in the cold, I thought.

As I walked towards the road, I wondered if the leech was the cure.

I walked back
Picked up the leech
And stuck it to the timeline of my life.

It's stuck to my neck ever since.
Throwing itself on my shoulder each time it's full.

I stick it back whenever time gives me that fever.

Godot... II

I'm waiting for

some sun

some snow

some rain

and a slight stir from you.

Dear Abhi...

It was an evening in 1988. I was seven and we were watching a new show on good old DD. That was the first time we met. At first glance, I went - huh! And the rest is... Ok, read on...

I didn't know your name then. I only knew you as Abhi, and later as Abhimanyu. I was hooked on to Fauji, so much so that I harboured the ambition of becoming a commando myself. I thought if I wore fatigues and did some exercise, I could meet you. I simply liked you, Abhi. For what, why and in what way - I couldn't say.

I wanted to be a commando, alright. But hey, there you were on Circus - this time as a young man trying to pull his father's circus business together. I wasn't sure if I wanted to be in a circus. I liked you, Abhi, but didn't want to be a part of a circus for that. And also, you had a love interest on the show...

Growing up, those odd pimples, homework, friends, dance, music, painting kept me very busy till I saw a giant poster of Raju Ban Gaya Gentleman. And I saw you again, Abhi. I was thrilled. You were on a movie poster - just like Aamir Khan was on Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar, Salman Khan and Sanjay Dutt were on Saajan. And that yoo with Juhi Chawla. I always thought Juhi was Aamir's and there you were - acting with the darling herself.

Though I never saw the film on big screen, I heard and read in papers that you were brilliant. I couldn't stop singing, Love, Love, Love, Loveria Hua. This was replaced by Aisi Deewangi, Bicchoo O Bicchoo, Dil Aashna Hai, Is Jahaan Ki Nahin Hai Tumhari Aankhen, Aye Kaash Ke Hum and Tu Mere Saamne...

And then came Baazigar. Abhi, you finally become Shah Rukh Khan. Awards, more movies, fame, adoration - you became The Badshah.

Then came a battery of hits and as I entered into teenage, you became the love of my life. I adored you - for something I couldn't tell. It wasn't as if I had your posters in my room. While my friends collected posters and postcards of their favourite movie stars, I was happy humming your songs. I fought with people who called you names, including my Ma. I do it, till date.

But while the name Rahul stuck to you and you were getting typecasted, into 'the rich, young dude'. You seemed to have developed a a Peter Pan-like image, even when as had wrinkles. You were disappointing me.

Then came a point, Abhi, when I actually thought I'd had enough. Your Major Ramprasad Sharma couldn't go down my throat. I wanted to puke, but I held on. The bile made me sick, but I waited for something - I can't tell what it was...

Then came Mohan Bhargav. After that, I knew you were capable of doing everything that a great actor would. I forgot all about The King Khan; I saw my Abhi again. I'm proud that you did Don. In spite of all the skepticism, criticism and comparions, you did it and I loved you in the movie. Hooted till people around silenced me during Yeh Mera Dil (Kareena sizzled, too) and screamed my lungs out when you said Duniya Mein Logon Ne Dil Apne Phir Thaame. And you proved you are you in Khaike Paan Banaraswala. Nobody can do what you did, Abhi. Nobody.

Our journey together has been quite an eventful one - you had a little more drama in yours than I had in mine. And today, as you've expanded your repertoire, I salute you again for your courage and spirit. It's not easy to sit on the chair alongside the more famous 'Hotseat'. But you did it. Though I can't see you, I know you're doing well.

But I have one little regret. I don't have a song that represents your new avtaar, Abhi. I left to live my dreams way before your popular rap went on air... It's alright - I'll make do with Phir Raat Kati Aur Din Nikla.

Yours always,
ab kya naam likhe, bhai... hum na kajol hain na kareena...

Chitty BANG BANG!!!

I don't believe this. I have to write this down...




As I look outside the window while I type, I can see jaw-dropping images...

Not of the wind and the sun...

Or rain and hail...

Or trash cans on the backyards...

Or the flying cardboards...

Or the chimneys belching smoke...

Or the bare rose shrubs...




The guy whose house my window faces has the curtains of his window drawn apart. I can see his silhouette. He's watching a porn movie and making no bones about it.

Big sister

She's literally the big sister, as in, badi didi or behen. Better still, badi behenji.

Her quotable quotes :

Mamma's little baby says -
My mother's accompanied me everywhere I went. This is my first time alone.

And -
I didn't know too much about the show. My mother filled up the form.

And here's the classic one -
We could get some champagne; but i don't drink.

Shilpa Shetty, I agree that a certain Miss Jade 'Controversy' Goody, and not to forget Miss Danielle 'Teddy Sherington' Lloyd and Miss Jo 'Sly-giggles' O'Meara, weren't really nice with you. In fact they were more than nasty. I appreciate you for being dignified and graceful in spite of the battery of abuses Miss Jade hurled at you.

But I must add you are the big sister on Big Brother.

Why are you being a prude? And why does the 'sheltered Indian upbringing' have to come in the way all the time? Oh yes, what do you mean when you say I am representing India and the Indian culture? (Hasn't this been done to death my our beauty pageant contestants?)

You are fiercely strong-willed, exquisitely beautiful (I eat my words) and extremely well-mannered. I don't see the reason why you have to reiterate the fact that you are a nice girl. Get candid, get real and the world will love you for better reasons.

Me?

I just did something I never thought I'd do.

When I got home this evening, I could feel just one thing. Not cold or wet or tired. Nor was it an anticipation to watch TV or get the day's post. And my bladder wasn't bursting either.

I was hungry.

I opened the door, put the load off myself on the sofa and darted into the kitchen. The furry thing that keeps peeping from behind the washine machine did not make an appearance. He (assuming that he greets me so often, couldn't be a girl) has a strange effect on me. It's the same that ghouls-draculas-spooks-dark shadows-lizards-cockroaches combined would have.

So, what's on the menu?
Boiled eggs.
Bread.
Milk.
Tea cakes.
Apples.
Pears.
Chocolates.

Spoilt for choice, I picked up a tub of yoghurt and came up to my room.

The curtain of the window was slightly parted. The light had faded outside. The world outside was an orderly disarray - dark dustbins in the backyard with their lids open, the outhouse door opening and shutting, trees swaying madly and the people in the house behind us watching soccer on TV.

Suddenly in between spoonfuls of yoghurt, I found myself humming, 'All by mahself...'

I stopped eating.

Was it me?

Well of course, it's me. Only humming a song...

I always knew at the back of my mind that too many movies aren't any good. The memories of a certain character's decadent loneliness, in this country, in this weather and in a similar situation just made me behave like her.

Pidgins?

There are pigeons in Sheffield, everywhere. In fact after coming here I've realised they are more conspicuous than most things, including robins, squirrels and dogs!

I think pigeons make a Mumbaikar instantly feel at home (particularly me, because our loo window was a perpetual maternity ward for them). But unlike the ones in Mumbai, they don't fly.

They walk like you and me. Interestingly, they even cross the road on their feet! They walk, hop or stroll, depending upon the need of the moment. I think they understand traffic lights, better than even we do.

I've always found they have more than plenty to eat. And unlike the pigeons I've seen back home, they don't look filthy. In fact I haven't seen them poop on places they eat. They hardly seem bird-brained to me.

Also, I've never found their carcass on the road. Considering there are so many of them all over the place, I thought I might just see a dead one. But never, in spite of travelling the length and breadth of the city at different points in time of the day. Wonder what the reason is - efficient cleaners or healthy food.

And they don't fly; I'm not exagerrating. I can make a movie titled 'Birds Don't Fly' on Sheffield's pigeons. On my second day in the city, a friend said, "Yahaan ke kabootar udhte nahin hain, chalte hain." And she's so right. They never ever fly. The only way I could make them fly is kick in the air. The flight - a modest one foot high covering about the same distance. They are again back on two.

One day, I was so hell-bent on making them fly, that I just ran towards a pack picking their feed on the road. And they cleared the way for me... by scurrying on either sides.

(Finally, the first of the many... hopefully enjoyable... anecdotes on my life in the UK. It's my fourth month here, and I've lost a lot of time. Thanks to the kabootar called 'writer's block'.)

An answer, finally

"People say you've found love if the person you're with makes you want to be a better person."
- Charlotte Church, singer.

I've never taken the celebs' take on life too seriously. It's not that they don't ever make sense. It's just that their antics offset whatever they say they believe in.

Today I stumbled upon this quote by Charlotte Church, a popular singer and TV hostess. I don't think it's remotely philosophical or intellectual. It's just a belief, rather a hearsay. I'm sure many of you reading the interview might not even make note of the statement. But this seemingly insignificant line has given me an answer that I've been looking for a long time.

People ask me about what do I look for in a man I'd eventually want to be with. And I have very standard answers like this, that and that too. But never something definite that would just state what I am looking for.

Life changes when one falls in love, doesn't it? I've always believed that any change should be for the better. Not better in the moralistic sense, but something that suits a person the best.

If a man wants me to be happy, to be honest, to believe in myself and to have faith in him, I'd most certainly want to be with him for the rest of my life.

And, more importantly, I think children are better people. I want to be with the man who's able to break through the many layers that make me and holds onto to little child that hides somewhere...

Your footprints in my bed

The closed door
Opens with a known click.

The dark stairway
Warms with a yellow gleam.

The gut-racking silence
Breaks with a trickle of water.

I enter my empty room
Ready for the ghosts from last night
To surround me.

As I turn on the light
I find myself all alone
With your footprints in my bed.

Numbed...

It was like any other evening. Munching on a flapjack, I was thinking of you as I walked home.

Your thoughts - like a dew drop on a young leaf - added a new dimension to my existance. They were the words from my poems, the scent of my bosom and the rhythm of soul. I smiled; I knew they would be enough to last me my whole life - just your thoughts.

The tornado ravaged after I got home. I knew I could brave it. I could see those thoughts - a blur on the horizon. I held on to that vision. Suddenly they were gone. My step faltered and rest is in a flux...

I was numbed for a long time...

Today a drop of dew woke me from my sleep. I don't think anymore; I don't have to. I've found my words and I'm breathing lungfulls again.