The Road Sense

I have fascination towards road. It gives me a hope that there is a way wherever I go. It does not matter to me if the way is straight, lush, barren or invisible; I know it is there somewhere, if not permanent at least momentarily. When I was a kid I remember watching the lonely streets from the barred window, just looking at it. The patch of the road that I could see from the window went through countless times of re-formation. It went wider one day but distinctly it was so familiar to me; just down to earth as always. It is almost two decades right now when I last saw that patch of road, but the fascination towards the endlessness of roads is still anew.


I am quite flattered by the success of unplanned events. They turn out to be sheer pleasure, may be because they don’t carry the burden of our prior expectations or maybe because we accept them the way they are or maybe the pleasure comes just because they are unplanned. Two bikes and four friends, 11 PM at night, loaded fuel tank and no idea where we were heading. We just hit the Bangalore-Mysore stretch and followed the road.


After half an hour of ride the real essence of long drive was building up. The road seem to lie down silently just for us while the motionless wind for someone who is standing by the road, was hitting ferociously as an reply to our unpardonable speed. We screamed and sang to the audience-less exposed nature. The buzzing wind playing tantrums around our ears posed us with the challenge to scream and sing even louder. I spread out my hands to see if the wind can push me back. No it could not; instead I pushed the wind mercilessly. We switched off the headlights turning the ride even more devilish. Uncompromising on the speed we took the turns barely missing the grip on the road. The moonlight over the streets was not beautiful but ruthlessly shining at us. I have never seen such a revengeful face of the road ever in my life. The road was conspiring and it put its wrath on us sooner than we expected. The trees were hiding the moonlight and dark seemed like getting darker; silence ruled and we were its obedient followers. Every turn was won with acceleration when finally a sharp turn successfully got the wheels off the road and we were skidding.


One bike passed the fate safely and the second bike was on the verge of being crushed by the wrath. The sandy path below the road did not let the tyre grip. The acceleration was showing an entirely new face; it was exciting and fearful at the same time. Bumps in between made us leave the road and float on air higher than we were expected to be and for the first time in my life my faith on “roads” were dissolving to oblivion. We were passing through the path where we were not supposed to be, or should I say the path that we were encountering was not supposed to be there. The reflex of the rider manipulated the gear-shifts, the breaks and the accelerator and then with a jolt we were back to the road and at least there was physical stability attained. The headlights were on and in moments the mental stability was back too and as we rode the darkness galloped with us leaving the twenty feet of the road that was smeared with the light from the head-lamps of the bike. The twenty feet of road that was visible was saying something to me and it did not take much time for me to understand.


We had no idea where we were heading but we firmly knew our limitations (or possibility as it may be called). We surely did not know the path we were taking but what directed us was the twenty feet of road. We need not know the entire stretch of the road to where we were heading. The twenty-feet was enough for us to know what was in front of us, that twenty-feet was enough for us to know we were safe and that same twenty-feet was our faith of the moment that, we will get to where our destiny belong. We chose the 75 Km mark and nailed it as our destiny. We took the next U-turn and continued back with our ferocious speed.
We stopped for out dinner on a dhaba right under the sky. It was the one of the spot on the stretch which seemed awake. The Barista and Coffee-Day were open but its sophistication was an unavoidable mismatch to the raw ride we had and so we let them pass by on our way. The return journey was silent. But our speed was way above the limits and this time we were open for anything to happen. The twenty feet of the road was guiding us and we were back from our so called destination to the start point in considerably less time. We halted in the friend’s house which came earlier. Our chatting posed a sudden silence with our eyes shut down with a universal phenomenon called sleep. The next morning we were up at 6 to hit back the road which was supposed to take us to our respective home.


The next twenty minutes ride was a quiet once again. It matched the serenity of the moment. The road seemed so peaceful and the longer stretch of the road was visible compared to the night. But it was still like an unconscious and yet conspicuous feeling that it was the twenty feet of the road right ahead of us that directed our course. We never took a turn which was significant to reach our destination, that was way ahead to come, but we directed our movement as per the twenty-feet of vicinity and yet we knew that we were going to reach where we are heading to.


I was wide awake when I reached home and as I was sitting and writing this, what I remembered was the journey. The destination seemed meaningless to me. It was like a decorated dangling piece of temptation amalgamated with momentary passion that is destined to be kept behind and we all need to move on starting a new journey for a new decorated temptation. What actually made me wonder was, does some kind of final destiny exist after which there is no journey? Is Death the answer to it or should I call Death an unplanned abrupt end to a journey? I sat for entire hour thinking about it. Truly speaking I could not conclude. I satisfied myself saying that any kind of destiny is a myth, a myth that comes when we set ourselves on the road and this myth shall live ever as the unending road always exists even if we find a dead-end. Beyond this dead-end is the beginning of unseen and unidentified endless road. May be we don’t believe it but do we have a choice?

Silently Yours

Every time you say you find my mails good...I reread my mails just to know what I wrote. I am clueless still? I wonder what made it so good. But to be truthful I do not try to find out the reason. As to all the mails, when I start writing them I have nothing in my mind. I stare at the computer screen and with my eyes open, think what you must be doing now. I have no idea of what I see to be true or not. What I know is I like to see them.

You see the distance between you and me are not in miles, but in days and night. I had problems in accepting the fact earlier but now I have accepted this fact to an extent. In the darkness of night when you feel the breeze it is the warm winds I feel here...I am not sure that the sun which shines here is the one shining there too though cosmology says it is the same. I just feel tough to believe it.

I walk back home and mindlessly heap the mobile on the piles of clothes on my bed. I know there won’t be any messages or call of yours. I then look out of the window and see it is dark out here, it must me dark out there too...but still both the darkness have different definitions; you will call it dawn I shall call it evening. So different I feel.

Sometimes at night, I sit on the chair and suddenly wake up...no I was not sleeping, I was not thinking either...I just flip-flopped from the phase of "existence" to "living".

I do not even wander in my heart or trod in my mind to find out why is it all happening. It is badinage to me.

It is not that I do not matter to myself; I do. I spend some time as usual in front of mirror looking at myself and putting my collar straight..."I look good" I say to myself and saying that I go to sleep. I love that time...being so unconscious. I don’t dream about you, I dream nothing, that time I sleep, quite satisfied by my looks. Then suddenly I remember the calendar on my table...one more day I strike it off. I close my eyes then, finally. And then a thought flies in my mind...that one day I will sleep and then get up and find you too, having the same day , the one I have and the sun that shines is the same for both of us. I shall splash the water on my face, this time with a smile, “yes I look good" I say it to myself and out of the door I see, I know, you are back...

Silently yours

It is all about today

I sometimes wonder “Do I know you?”; I am just so puzzled! I see you smiling and ask myself –Am I really sure if you are smiling for the reason I am thinking? I just don’t get any answer. Your silent stare confuses me too. Sometimes it says that you appreciate me and in the next moment it tries to convey something about you, something that is going deep within you. And I am lost with my pathetic sense of guessing. That day I came to you with a silly incident at my office and you told me how significant those incidents were in my career. And then about the heated talks you had with your Mom about your life, you just tossed it away as if you do not care. I don’t know how you do that? How you conclude what in life is important and what is not?

You asked me one day what kind of person I want in my life? I was scared to say it was you; but I described the way I thought you can infer that I was talking about you. You kept listening to me, barely with any responses. And when I asked the same question to you, you so sincerely said- “I do not know, I have never thought of my dream man. I want to love him as the person he is, I would accept him the way he would be.” I can’t stop admiring you for what you said but within I wished you could have described someone just like me. That night I thought about you even more than usual; you seemed to be a mystery to me.

I have known you since seven years, right from our school days. You remember (I guess), that we were in the same section throughout? And now we are in the same job, living in the same colony. Is that a mere coincidence or are we meant to be together. Have you ever thought about it? I think all this as I wait for you in the restaurant or park or anywhere we plan to meet. You then come with such a gentle smile that my anger or frustration whatever you may call it just melts away. You sit beside me, and at that moment I only hear you; I can only see you then and I feel I can spend all my life listing to you like this. And then suddenly you shake waking me up from what I will call a sweet dream and you ask me “So will that be fine then?” I have no idea what u have been speaking about. I look into your eyes, so much of enthusiasm so much of a charming energy - “Yes, that will be great”, is all I have to say. Then you ask me doubtfully –“Are you sure about it?”, and that’s where you confuse me again.

It is so silly of me to love you so much. I have no idea if you understand and now I have almost given up to the hope too. I smile at myself, at my madness and also at my stupidity, all at the same time. I can never express my feelings to you. You are so delicate. I don’t want to hurt you. I climb down the stairs and walk to the bus-stand and what do I find? The bus to my place is just leaving from the stand. I run behind it in vain. I turn back to the chairs in the bus-stand and I see you sitting there. “Knock-knock!! You just missed your bus!!” I mockingly reminded you and here is what you say- “That was not my bus. My bus is the next one, with you”. I have to remind myself that it is the bus you are speaking about not about your life that you want to board with me, though you have been waiting for me in the bus-stand from past one hour. I laughed at myself, my madness and stupidity, all at the same time, again.

Sometimes in life you have to just let things go. You need to loosen your grip and let it go wherever it wants. Yea that’s what exactly I did. But the thing was you never went away. You would come to me with that very gentle smile. I could at least now control myself from getting hypnotized by your smile. Then I ask myself “Why am I holding myself? Shouldn’t I let myself free too?” But now I was in my senses, I mean I could see others along with you. Something is wrong with me then. But as I have to let myself free I must not think of it. Even today I wait for you in the restaurant or park or any where we plan to meet. Even today I see you for hours in the bus-stand waiting for me. You have the same answer for the dream man and so do I have for my dream girl. I do not have any expectations. What I know is I relish every moment being with you. It has been eight years together. I do not know if we are meant to be together all throughout. I have no idea of tomorrow. I can only tell you about today, and today, yes, we are meant to be together.

Unendingly Yours

It had been an hour thinking of you. What do I write to you? There is not a word left untold and there is nothing to confess. You know me inside out.

The pages pattered noisily by the wind as I watched the stretch of lonely road from the terrace. Suddenly a vehicle almost appearing from nowhere zoomed over it. I felt sad. I understand that it is quite stupid of me to say but I have seen no one say -“Hey ROAD, thanks a lot man. You make my life so easy”. Is it because it is a dead stretch of tar or because it never demands a “thank you”?

I do not really understand what are my thoughts up to? Why do I feel so lost after meeting you after such a long time? You had always been there for me though there were times I failed to appreciate your presence. You never complained. And if I fail tonight, will you complain? You see I am scared.

Life had been cruel to our relationship but our purity had always strengthened the bond between us leaving the cruelty totally helpless. You have always been a shield to all the problems and pain approaching me. But I do not intend to write a thank-you note to you. You don’t need it. You are like the ocean to me who never complains about the salinity. It cleans the shore decorating it with the pebbles and shells with its beauty intact. Your beauty, like the ocean lies deep within, so divine.
You are no God. You have tears, I have seen them. Still then I always knew you were different. You deserved something great. May be you felt me imposing over you that difference. And you said to me looking deep into my eyes – “I am no different. I live my life bit by bit. I glean every bit of my small happiness. I do not wish to miss them for the bigger one”. I do not think I have ever heard anything so pristine.

I always felt like a child at your hands. You induced me with numerous feelings and qualities which i have imbibed that i later realized have contributed to my identity. I hugged you and you read my indebted eyes –“You deserved it. I just made sure you have them” is all you said in your placid voice.

There are many things that I wish to pen down but it will be a mere repetition. You know it all, isn’t it, even if I have missed saying few of them?

We lived every day with a hope. I felt it when you held my hand and circled round the temple paying regards to the hope that we shall meet one day. I feel so blessed when I see that hope transforming to faith as you are still awake with me in this dawn as I talk to you through this letter. Though you had no reason to strain your eyes but you knew that I will write to you.

Unendingly Yours


Image Cutesy: Click here to go to image page

Something in a relationship

 

A good friend of mine said – “The person with whom you can be yourself, be it happy or sad, together or alone, is the one you should be with”; and this kept me thinking all the while as I was walking back to my room. She said this as an answer when I asked her – “What is that one thing that you have learned from your relationship”.

As I said that it kept me thinking; not because it revealed something that I did not realise, but because it led me to one more doubt. I have known myself for couple of years now and still there are times when I surprise myself. I surprise myself with my intuitions, reactions and choices that I make. And every time it happens I keep wondering if I know myself. Now if for some reason no one can know what constitutes oneself, I wonder, how can one decide about the person he or she is going to be with?

But does that mean I believe in fate, frankly I cannot say that but I would very well not like to believe that two invisible set of hands have written my life. So in the matter of relationships I do feel the same way. I must say I have been lucky to find people who are truly amazing. Few of them are a kind who gave me a sensation of a typical sort of feeling. I don’t know how to word that feeling but one thing that I remember about that feeling; my head was empty, there was no single thought running and my lips stretched to the extent to be called a smile whenever I saw them. Few of them made me feel so perfectly secured by my identity and for few of them my identity did not matter at all.

To me life is not a sacrifice, especially sacrifice of ones individuality. To me no one can determine the perfect partner in life; the degree, certificates and bank balance never can. To me I know I am with a right partner when I can respect her before I could love her; I would not feel a tinge when I have to share my favourite chocolate with her, I may be the ultimate but there is a sense of incompleteness if I cannot share with her and for the most important thing, I could be able to see in her eyes and know for the fact that she is my friend, my wife and the woman whom I wish to be the mother of my child.

Well that’s what I had to say over my coffee tonight. 

Image Cutesy: Click here to go to image location

Spilling it again

Some experiences are not meant to be just experiences; in fact they must never be ‘just an experience’ at all.

At times I need participation, little of it may be but being a part of it takes the matter to entirely new league. Love to me is never blind; it is an eye opener. May be my eyes open to see another pair of eyes and I keep guessing as what it may hold for me today. I like to see a smile that lights up the moment and feels like I can carry them all along with me. It is not the words that I hear but the sound that keeps humming within with a note as calm as silence and may be a hug that makes me wonder if I can freeze the moment. And what I wish is not just an experience of all this but something that breathes with me as I live.

For me mind and heart had always been in sync; but they had naughtily never stopped playing games with me. They keep giggling at me at my stupidities but I never feel bad about it. They have now known me for some time and do not make any attempt to prevent me from doing fresh stupidities. My friends call them illogical. But within I know I neither follow my heart nor my mind, I just be there in the moment to experience the feeling, but I must confess that there are also times when I wish these experiences be never ending.

When I close my eyes to retire for the day an automated mechanism flashes the entire day in front of my eyes, there are some thoughts too, like fill in the blanks which pops up in the mind and I neglect them because I know the answers but better feel that they must be empty. The reason is simple, I know where they all lead to and I don’t want them to go, I want them to come back the next night (unfailingly I will not answer them again). Once I answer them that will not come back and then I would tell myself that it was a sweet experience and that is what I exactly don’t want to do.

I belong here

I zipped my bag and that moment the message popped out on the computer screen-”Transaction complete. Delivery at the doorstep within 2 hours”. I shut the screen and pulled the power plug out. I locked my wardrobe and threw the keys on the table carelessly. My eyes were stuck at the wall clock following every second very patiently.
            I went there quite long back .I used to go every day. It had always been a part of my day where I was with myself. I even remember the last day too. I took an extra hour for myself that day and assimilated all my connections and moments over there. I did not want to take them with me. I wanted them to be there. I wanted it to be there when I come next.
My hostel days began and I was processed to have a schedule for everything. I woke up at the same time every day. My breakfast, lunch and dinner were laid on the table exactly at the same time every day. My classes were governed by automatic bells which rang precisely at the knock of the scheduled second and the lights went out at the stroke of 10 every night. I obeyed it religiously.
In between I did come back home but doing things at schedule was hardwired in me now. I used to get up early and stared out of the window. Everyone else was deep asleep. At eight I used to be at the table for breakfast, just me and no one else. Dad and Mom were busy preparing for the day at office and at 21 hrs I was back to bed. I had no clue when my parents were back home. But every morning I saw them getting ready for office. Yes I used to get a call in between from Mom and Dad saying that they love me and care for me. So I had nothing to complain about.  Every time I came home the same routine of my followed. Just the background was different; initially Dad and Mom were together, then just Mom, they got divorced and then I alone, Mom left for Netherlands for good. And Dad seems to be a big man now and had houses at many places over the globe.
            The worst thing about my life was that nobody questioned me. My friends said that it was the best thing that can happen to a child–just do whatever u like and nobody bothers you.
They were all wrong. When I went to my friend’s place to stay I felt the difference.
You were not supposed to leave your place without asking for an excuse; at my place never I remember we all sat together for any meal.
You were not supposed to waste food; I ate how much I liked and never bothered to know what was done with the rest of the food.
The best part was they prayed together before going to bed. I saw them when they prayed. I had no clue what they were praying for.
They were all so much connected. They did bother about each other and I call it “concern”.
I was still following the second hand of the wall clock and the door bell rang aloud.
“Sir your order”…a dark tall man with a smiling face which was mostly because he was paid for doing so, handed me the keys of my ranger bike.
I put my old cap, though old but always had the sense of possessing it. I paddled my bike through the rocky terrain, up the steep slope. The way still looks so familiar to me. I knew the bend that was going to come. I braked. I looked at the rock where on the last day I scratched the words “I Will Come Back”, it is as clear as if I wrote it yesterday.
I put my bike down and sat at the edge of the cliff. The drowning sun looks so red. My memory and all my connections are all live here, breathing with me the same air. They are sitting with me by my side, all silent; we have nothing to say to each other.
I have no idea what kind of relationship I share with this place. I just know I am back home.
I spent the rest of the evening sitting there looking at drowning sun. The clouds coloured themselves red which they borrowed from the sun. And as the sun climbed down the horizon, the clouds gave back the colour, with a promise that they would get it the next day.
I reached home. Took my bag and headed for the airport. The flight took off at the scheduled time. I flew over the cliff. I could make out the rock waving me good bye.
Though I tried hard to read what I wrote on the rock today but it was impossible to read.
“I BELONG HERE”…was what I wrote and “I Will Come Back” still holds good.

Image Cutesy : click