Moments

"Why do you always crack such presumptuous cliched jokes?" - She said in her usual irritated manner

Whenever she spoke like that, it cut across somewhere close to his heart, like a cold knife..always
This indifference and haughtiness in her, emptied him of everything which he wanted to tell her..it reminded him of darkest things..things he could not place his finger on but were reminders of all those times which made him feel desolate and lonely..it struck some abyss in his mind..always

- "You dont have any sense of humour" - He tried regaining his posture and say this with a flair and appear unmoved

-"you dont know a thing about humour..you are not funny ever..so please dont try it" - there was a hint of smile on her face..the kind of smile he despised

The very thing which he despised in her..puller him to her...it was like this feeling of vertigo..a free fall into a place called "her" where he could rest or die

"Just cos you dont feel like laughing at my jokes does not mean no one feels like" - while saying this he felt so small,almost like a petulant child..and he would have hated someone else who spoke like that... yet he just had to...cos in front of her he turned into someone he loathed himself

"Then crack them for someone who likes it"..her chilly voice resonated though she was almost not there.

She sipped her coffee..while he craved to gather this moment in his heart..to keep it intact somewhere..and wished to revel in this captured moment, where she sips her coffee with child like innocence and there is scent of her, mixed with the rain kissed soil

"You dont even look at me when you talk..you dont even like me a bit..then why the hell do you meet me" - He broke his own reverie..maybe to take away all the softness which he felt for her a moment ago

She looked at him now..the kind of look one gives when one is not actually looking at the person

"Cos of this image of me entangled in your eyes"

Whats with men and coffee??
Why is it that they only ask you out for coffee??

Why is it never tea, or milkshake, or maybe lemonade?

"Can we meet up for coffee or something?"!!

Oh these poor sweet silly men!

The tailored needs

They say one needs a companion in life, even if s/he is not your soul-mate.
They say you need a human to stay with...to feel less lonely and more wanted

But I have realised..my need for a man is simply un-realistic, the way I need that companion is maddening..people might find me a fanatic, when they hear it

Yes its some-what like that..

I want that person to listen to me like his last wish is hearing me speak...I want him to talk to me every second hour..in between work..in between any and eveyrthing important to him..I should be on his mind
I wont bear to have him look or even as much as speak to another woman in a flirtatious manner...
I want my days and nights to be filled with conversations...of my kind

There was a time when I met men over coffee just to have a good conversation..
And now that desire is dead!

Cos the moment I see a man, a prospect..I see his end in him
I see the block, which he will hit very soon with me..and there is no way he can go beyond that end..its the end of all men..
All men lead to that point of no man's land and never recover from there

Women are endless, some of them to say..but men are not..

I can see a relationship blossoming and dying before it has started..I can see where it will lead to and how it will end

So, I guess being with anyone decent should do..

He does not have to lift my soul every day..does not need to make my heart skip a beat each time he smiles...need not have all the answers to my questions ..am good enough to answer them myself

He need not make me laugh..need not make me call him whenever there is something funny I want to share....need not be the one whose cologne lingers on me and whenever I meet someone else wearing it, make me feel giddy and want to run in his arms each time....he need not be the only colour in my life

When I was 15-16 I rememebr a day distinctly in my life, when reading a novel by Amrita Pritam I remarked..I would rather be with someone I dont love than with a person who drives me crazy with love and yearn for him.....

And I still stand there..as that 16 year old..who was so clear in her head of notions of love

A house full of women

I feel that a house full of women is so much richer than a house full of men.
And I know that a man trapped in a bevy of women is just so lost.

They don't understand what gets to these women that they start fighting one moment and the very next moment they are all cosying up to each other and sharing secrets

Ours has been such a house, what with 3 sisters and mother..against one brother and father
They both used to clamour for our attention...my brother being the youngest, tried following us, in all our gossips..
We would usually hurl him away with something like "you are younger and wont understand, so go and study"
Or "Why are you always sticking to us, go and play with your friends"
And he, in all his cuteness, would make excuses to study while we chatted around him

I guess there is something about women, these men don't understand and they are forever in search of that mystery...that elusive smell

But women can be so so difficult and we sisters are a perfect example of that

With every re-union there is a day of splendid fighting and shouting..accompanied by sullen days..when the men around just sense the tension and very meekly try to get us together..with a fear of getting ripped apart in all that..which happens every now and then..yet they are steadfast in their attempts

Just a couple of days back in Delhi..we sisters were together and in no time a massive battle of words and arguments ensued between us.
It started between my younger and elder sister but, as usual, ended with me and my elder sister..

When we fight with words..none can dare to enter that arena and we cast blows at each other like missiles..the place indeed looks like a battlefield..
After the bombardment and then an eerie silence..

Funnily the topic is never a relevant one...this time it was about some 3rd person who does not matter either to her or to me..
But it eventually leads to personal stuff
Maybe some unspoken thoughts..hidden resentment..suppressed expectations..gives way to illogical fights

But surprisingly all this anger never leads to any hatred..

After that bombardment the scene must have been funny, from a 3rd person's perspective
My elder sister was sitting on the chair, with most probably tears in her eyes, which I realised later, when she spoke
I had "Alchemy of desires" sprawled across my face, and my eyes darted through the words without registering a thing..I wasn't thinking of the fight nor was reading but the mind was in an unknown frenzy,too clogged to take in anything

The 3rd sister was trying to act paralysed, lying face down on the bed with very little movement, while I knew her mind was acutely aware of the fight

In all this, none dares to enter the room till the air has cooled down a bit..

Enters the mother!
She is scared to enter while we are blowing accusations at each other but once that's over, she has to ALWAYS come and ask SAME questions

"Why were you girls fighting?"
-No response!

"I really don't like it when you people fight, now that you stay away from each other"

Responses (mostly from 3rd sis) - "Don't sisters fight? Why do you irritate us with questions like this"
"Hota hai bhai!" (It happens)

Mother again in her meek tone - "We sisters never fought, not after we had our own children."

Elder sis (voice breaking cos of crying) - "That's cos you sisters hardly meet..and its good that you guys don't meet...else you would fight and kill each other like us"

Silence prevails..while there is a flurry of event ..in which my elder sis is readying to go out

And I..in all this..after every fight..feel an immense relief
Unfortunately my laughter neurons are slightly conked off!!

Cos I feel like laughing, like mad, and while my mother kept asking questions I threw the book on my face and convulsed with laughter

The inane fight and the stupid questions tickle me...even as a child if my mother scolded me and demanded answers to rhetoric questions..I would hide my face in my knees and laugh like mad..while my mom thought I was crying bitterly :)


Someone rightly said "If you don't understand how a woman could both love her sister dearly and want to wring her neck at the same time, then you were probably an only child."
There are times when you are certain you hate her..and the next moment you want to hug her and tell her all your harsh words were meant just to hurt her temporarily

Anyways..to conclude...we are back to talking..
Till we meet again :D

Home sweet home

Being in your place of birth and youth has its undeniable charm.
Something which creeps upto you unknowingly, like an unforseen force

Thats whats happening to me in Patna right now..

My house, the streets..everything evokes certain emotions, which have their roots deep down in my heart

But apart from the emotions, its the comfort which gets to me

Living on my own and alone had made me work for myself..and I had forgotten how easy it had been for me, back home

And now its coming back to me..
when I finish my bottle of water, someone invisibly fills it and keeps it in place for me
The food is served in plates, wherever I choose to sit..
Tea and coffee appears from no where, as if my mind commanded them
I just dump my clothes without bothering about how to segregate them into different piles, and all are washed, ironed and handed over to me!

My house is full of helpers... more than the inhibitants

Some of them have been around for more than 20 years or so..and they come here more out of habit and for my mom, than for any actual work..
But they fill in wherever there is any dearth...
If I need something urgently, they will run the errand for me
If I need tea out of the blue, they will make it for me
If I need a massage, there is someone to do it

I have a driver who also sees to it that all my small wishes are fulfiiled
Just today, I was asking the maid where my slippers were, he got them for me and put them right in front of me..and said "I will first dust them for you, then you wear them"..and ran to get a cloth

I feel so embarassed at such moments that I cant even look him in the eyes..
I just told him hastily that my shoes are alright and he neednt dust them..and wore them hurriedly , lest he starts off in his crusade of cleaning them

Then there is this smell of incence, and chants..so typical of durgo pujo..a nip in the air..
This month of october and my home town stir up some magic

Now am sure life will be so difficult when I get back to my own place...

Away from net, with family..yet it feels as if a part of me is lost..
Internet and my blog has become such an addiction for me :)

Attraction

Attraction brews like coffee..in our minds...which is also a furnace
Just as you add ingredients to it...the attraction grows..

The furtive glances, the downcast eyes with a smile lurking, the SMSes bordering on being flirtatious, yet not there..hiding the obvious like a smothered laughter

And like the fresh froth on the top of coffee, it promises of what lies beneath, of a tantalizing flavour

And just as the froth lingers for a few moments, giving an impression of wild passion inside, the moment ends...revealing the real tasts of coffee underneatth, and the froth dies off..

So does attraction...leaving you with a reality...which you could either love or have it fizzle out in nothingness