Twitter

Friday, January 29, 2010

Homeward Bound

Bags were packed, locked, weighed and ready. Online check-in was completed, Boarding Pass printed. Except the final Good-byes, she was all set to leave. It had been her idea to arrange an informal get-together at a Restaurant for a final beer with friends. Everyone was present, except him.

Sonia was getting restless, just an hour to go and she had around 20 minutes drive to reach the airport. Half an hour went past, still no sign. The ominous dark clouds gathering overhead ready to explode into a fierce downpour, did nothing much to brighten the situation. Well, it was foolish on her part to even faintly expect him to be there. He was an extremely busy man, probably involved in one of his numerous assignments or guest lectures, maybe a seminar, Conference, could be ill health,the weather, anything. He had thousands of students graduating and leaving every year,what was so special about her exit anyway and the University was a good one hours drive from the place she had chosen and his home was even further away! So!! Or, he just did not want to be present. Simple. But her innermost voice refused to believe that he did not want to be around. Or was he uneasy with goodbyes? In any case she had a good 12 to 14 hours on her flight back home, to analyse the 'ifs' and 'buts' of an imaginary cause.

Tim was a faculty at her University. He taught Finance but not her batch. She had attended one single guest seminar of his, remained spell bound for the 4 hours that he occupied the podium, overawed by his analytical skills and life was never the same again. She was so attentive, participating eagerly and by the end of the day, he seemed impressed with her and after its conclusion, gave her inputs about her subjects, career and next course of action she should take. Needless to say, Sania appeared like any other girl her age would. Floored by compliments from someone she idolised and was completely bowled over by his intellect and humane characteristics. She made it a point to read most of his research papers and kept herself abreast of what he was doing. The rumour of his relocation to a different County sent her into a mild panic, short of being hysterical. And for the first time she fared poorly in her papers. She did run into him a couple of times, having short conversations within the campus and on one occasion even discussed her other literary pursuits, without touching on academics.

With the last ten minutes left to bid her final round of farewell, hugs, tears, exchange of numbers, it dawned on her that she would never see most of these people again and would be leaving the country for good. As she hugged her last friend, her emotions gave way, burying her face in her shoulers she tried to get a hold over herself. As she looked up amidst tears, she found herself looking into hazel brown eyes and a familiar voice asking her "can I drop you to the airport? Sorry I got late!" So he did make it after all.

Suddenly, she seemed in a hurry to leave, yet once seated wished the drive would go on forever or a breakdown, anything to delay her departure. The conversation between them appeared strained, mono syllabic answers and before she realised it, they were at the gate. She alighted, aware that these were the last few moments, as parking beyond a few minutes was not done and the clouds were threatening to burst.

" I dont know what to say, Sania, though there is much I would have liked to convey. I have this little book for you with a few notes made here and there, a couple of bookmarks and underlined quotes. Maybe, if you read between the lines, you would know", with that he handed her a volume of her favourite poems, held her hands and said "Goodbye and Take Care. You know where to reach me if you wish"

She flipped open a page which was marked. A poem by Pablo Neruda

If You Forget Me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine



She was rendered speechless, but had to say something, since she knew by intuition what he meant "I wish you well Tim, but feel we shouldn't have waited this long"

He tried to smile, knowing the impossibility of such a union. Culturally poles apart, demographically long distance, biologically he was a good 15 years her senior. Yet, an invisible bond tied them together, making words useless, when a communication of their souls seemed stronger.

" I am sorry, I did not get anything for you, I mean, I wish I had thought of a gift or something, but you will always remain very dear to me" she was struggling with her emotions.

" take care dear" was all he could manage to say without choking, as they looked at each other in final farewell.

Cloudburst. The raindrops had begun to fall. They were both thankful to the rains which managed to camouflage their tears.




P. S. Some relationships are not meant to be but happen, while some others are meant to be, but never happen!

Thursday, January 21, 2010

From One Blogger to another!

The relationship between bloggers is an interesting one! I am fairly new to the blogging world, but realise its huge with loads of content. Gathering so much information is virtually impossible but I feel the least we can do, is to start somewhere and follow subjects which interest us.

Building a network among friends, making a small group, sharing inputs and making it a point to read what someone else has written is one step forward. Every blogger writes not only for the love of writing but essentially to share with his fellow bloggers, what he thinks may be of some interest. If we spend 5 minutes reading something, I am sure another 60 seconds spent in recording a comment,should not be difficult. If anything, it goes a long way in motivating someone, encouraging them to continue putting their thoughts on paper.

If nobody reads or has the patience to comment, there is no point in writing! One may as well record everything in a Diary and keep it locked in a cupboard. If the bloggers world has to survive and we understand each other, it will indeed be a process of understanding not only what the person writes but also his moods, reflection & style. I know some folks who feel they are the best, either have a condescending attitude or do not encourage another to write for fear of competition. Its ridiculous! The world is so big, subjects infinite and each human mind has a different thought process with his own distinctive style of conveying things. Hence, such insecurity is uncalled for.

Is it possible for us to unite,encourage and respect each other? It is absolutely not necesary to say nice things all the time. Suggestion, inputs and healthy criticism spurs the writer to do even better next time! Can we make a start in building a beautiful mutual relationship? Can we start today? Right now?

If you have reached this line, it means you have read it all. Could you please leave your thoughts on the issue?

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Mirror and Image An interesting relationship

The style was cool. The cut perfect, bangs framing an oval pretty face. Highlighter applied, concealer to hide the spots, a touch of mascara, lipstick to add colour, shadow to enhance and the face was good! The image seemed pretty pleased with the ‘makeover, having spent not only a fortune but sleepless nights of planning (Ouch!! now That was the cause for those dark circles) and hours of office time. Hmm ! well!
The outfit was tailored to perfection, size zero, classy accessories, branded watch, trendy bag, stylish footwear, Prada sun shades…Okay that’s enough, the image was mighty pleased!

‘So, what do you think mirror ?’ Asked the image with a touch of arrogance
‘Well, just about okay!’
‘That’s ridiculous! This, this awesome image that you are reflecting is just okay? Maybe you’ve grown old, senile or plain jealous’
‘Well, old maybe, after all I have reflected some beautiful women in my life, like your grandmom for instance’
‘Ah!! Grandma was plain, simple, cuddly and sweet not a trendsetter. But look what you are reflecting today, I bet you’ve never seen an image like this before.
‘I can offer you some tips honey! To make you look astonishing’ the mirror seemed to jump at the opportunity
‘Better than this??Well go on, make your advice short and crisp and don’t expect me to shell out any more bucks. I'm drained out!’

‘Oh No! It doesn’t cost a penny! How about adding some warmth to your smile, a firm grip to your handshake, a softness to your voice, some gentle allure to your expressions and gestures of goodwill. Like calling on your Mom for instance, taking a break with your family, a movie with your sis, reading to your child and spending a weekend with friends. Come back and talk to me after three months, you will see the difference.’
‘Huh???How dry, boring and outdated! You amaze me! How on earth are all these things going to improve my image, my looks. Its only going to make me tired and drained out! Who has the time anyway? See you around and thanks, but no thanks!’

When the image did not get any extra attention despite such herculean efforts, she thought about giving a couple of those experiments, a try.
Four months later, she went back for a tete-a-tete. ‘Alright, here I am, I did heed some of your advice. What do you think?’ There was an unmistakable warmth in her voice.

‘You sound happy and warm. I think your smile must have reached your eyes which could be twinkling, not with extra mascara but with joy from within. You maybe looking radiant and alluring. I can now confess that I am perhaps reflecting someone much more confident and beautiful than even your grandmom. I know that I am now reflecting an image of inner beauty radiating an outer charm.’
‘That sounds fine, thanks but why do you sound as if you cannot see me properly?’
‘I have grown old dear, the image is hazy, a film appears before my eyes but I like the sound of your voice, your confidence your goodness and your attitude. Just that it came a bit late for me to completely feel and enjoy the beauty and radiance that you emit.’

The image felt sad! How often have we wasted time postponing a good deed to the next day? How often have we ignored a friend who was depressed and coping alone, hoping that she would recover by ‘tomorrow’, failed to call on an ailing relative, cancelled a trip to the mountains with family, escaped from the School’s Annual Day celebrations, snapped at Mom for seeking help with groceries, passed on the responsibility of accompanying Dad to the doctor to someone else, just sat indoors and slept through a beautiful day, doing nothing?
How much has just gone by? And cannot be retrieved? How often have we been obsessed with our looks and conscious of the image we project to the outside world, ignoring the call of the soul which comes from within but radiates outside? Taking a cue from the ‘image’ let me pretend that tomorrow may never come and yesterday is dead, but today is here, with beautiful moments to be captured!

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

What A Dad means to a daughter:
Father stood for all this and much much more:

A pillar of strength

A person to look up to in times of stress

A counsellor, A guide

A loving Dad who would gleefully buy the ice cream Mom said not to

An indulgent father who spoiled his little girl silly

A strong man who would often melt at the tears in his little one's eyes

A sterling example in goodness of character

A disciplinarian when it came to teen years

A no nonsense man while dealing with studies & Grades

A motivator who encouraged in sports and music

An intellectual who taught the art of reading books and writing

A fun loving Dad who first showed the art of building sand castles...(That the daughter ends up building castles in the air is another thing .. )

A courageous man, a brave soldier, a great patriot he taught ethics and love for one's Motherland

A man to whom self respect was utmost, integrity his password and hardwork with sincerity his passion

As he instilled all these values, his influence remained steadfast to a daughter. Above everything, he is a thorough gentleman, a great human being an idol in her eyes!

The father daughter relationship is one the most deep rooted bonds, highly influential, tinged with a distance, yet so close and warm, supportive and trustworthy!