THE *purple* man 1

Unending instructions;a couple of hmmms';and haans' he turned towards me and smiled.

I was mad. Nah not because he was on the call or that we had had a fight. Nothing of that sort. (Yeah I can get mad at someone for smiling.) It seemed fake! The very intuitive response was held right there, he said what! - I felt like saying... 'dont know..' but kept quite. the smell of caffeine changed alot of things...

The next day I was reading 'the memory editor' - one of the stories from Tokyo Cancelled by Rana Dasgupta. It reads, there would be a day when we would forget everything about us and so we would need these electronic database to remind us of what we were.. etc etc... I was wondering if I would remember this smile. and frankly although it made me really mad at that time that is probably one of the things I would want to... like to remember.

Serenity in the lands of 'NOT us'

It had been a long frustrating day with a spoon of whipped cream. I was hoping there was something exciting on the other side of evening.

He was beaming with energy to go for some random shots and I was telling myself. 'come on do it.. you have not done anything so random for a very long time.' Yes my brain said, You have not done something so random for so long that these things you think normal are being termed 'random' by you. My brain was not very happy with me I could see that.

The camera and laptops in our hand we drove to the middle of nowhere - nowhere for us. But a world of smiling, loving, carefree kids, women, tired men. A huge patch of water, a magnificient dargah, a fort ... a small park. Young boys in their white emaculate costumes were ready to go for the evening namaz. Women sat in small groups, some in Burkhas and some happily relishing the golas. It was so peaceful, happy seemed like the opening shots about riots...

We were being looked at with sruprise, some smiles - half smiles wondering if we were the press, tourists. Kids watched from afar at first and watched us take pictures of everything from a leaf, to faces, to kids running around and ofcourse the fort. That was the last thing on our minds... it did not fit our terminology of 'RANDOM' We tried to capture the sun setting through the huge pillars, a goat, snack packets. Now the kids were slowly moving towards us and almost followed him to every shot. One of them was wondering why someone would want to come and take pictures of the iron rods that hold bicycles upright. He said, ' Yeh kya kar rahe ho...'

I walked aimlessly... i could feel the tension but I was happy to see a world I had never seen before. I was wondering if I were welcome here or was it that they did not have choice. It almost felt like I was in coma.. or a dream I could not make sense of.

It was getting dark, we walked closer to the water. I wanted the perfect shot of the pebble splashing in the water. Once, twice... 23rd time.. we got a few fanstastic shots but not what I wanted. Everytime I try really hard to get what I can see in my head but can't.. I remember these words...'If you can see it it has already been captured..Why do you want that?'

We came closer to the dargah.. he stopped and looked back at me and said, 'Do you think we will be allowed?' I said, Dont know... I was hoping we would be .. but I was scared to go and ask. I said why dont you go.. Both of us stood there. Tell you this could turn into a perfect scene for a bollywood film. We had just entered the dargah.... people would gather around us... try to push us out.. or may be beat us up.

Ofcourse nothing like that happened. Infact the people around us were finding it very odd that we were not going inside. We walked out without thinking too much... We had created unknown, hazzy walls none of those people could see.

I wanted to capture the pigeons at the top of the dome.. I was trying to capture it through the iron gate. Just then I heard an unknown voice saying, 'Arre go inside.. you will get a better shot...'

Wow.. How does he know what I want! Am I allowed to go inside... I dont think he would be allowed in the mandir... What are we doing to ourselves? Do we really know what we want?

Yes it was a wonderful evening of realisations and reflections. It left a sweet taste in my mouth and we decided we should come here everytime we feel frustrated...

shuffling... alternating... changing?

Sometimes we change for someone... There are things we dont want like in it's true appearance because it pierces our perception. Cut your hair, leave it open after a wash and walk around to make sure everyone can smell the conditioner (they better! - you finished half a bottle... ) If they still dont catch your attention that then u wiff off the sweat under your neck and nudge them with your elbows, sprang out of chairs and as a last resort leave your sentences half so that the person keeps thinking.. stays confused and lives in a world that's more pulpy.. unreal... fictional than science fiction. There you changed the colors of someones dreams almost as simply as you could change your desktop theme. But what if you were asked to look just a little on the right or open your eyes to the sunrise... Would you?

I dont think you would. You are too settled in that space of your mind, where dishes from last night lie in the kitchen - unwashed, food almost dried up and will take an hour of scrubbing. your pillows too comfortable and is just the right thickness, you would not want to share your rug even if half of the other was found lying on the floor every morning. Thats because that's me!

The me - that me is too comfortable to change..But i love change.. only for others... let it be like the seasons - passing me by before I can even look up and blink.

Who am i ?

the blind fraction of a second

It was 9.20. The same old road. the same old traffic. the same old faces that i wudnt remember... i was listening the same old music but was enjoying it the nevertheless. I was happy, i was listening to one of my fav dance numbers and dancing away with one hand. I usually look at those walking on the roads and try and imagine that they can hear the same track and assume that they are walking and driving to the same beat. Here's the tricky part in the patch, it's a small cross road. Oh! how i hate pressing my foot on break... Why can't people let me get my daily dose of driving.
There was a young man running across the road with a bag in his hand. Looked like he was returning from the bakery. Well!! there you go that's his idea of breakfast. I felt like telling him"let me have my breakfast" So i was honking and surprsingly he stopped looked at me; took a bow and asked to me move ahead. I could'nt believe it, was this for true!smiled in that fraction of the second I shared with him. He smiled back... I had a blind - date - a moment - a second - a fraction of second. He sure did make me feel special... who was he? How did he know it was important that i keep driving in the same gear?
Today
It's 9.20am in my watch - Will he be there?

a little bit of C H A O S!

She said don't you think we are a bit too old for this? I could'nt agree more but there was far too much energy in me to handle the excitement of enjoying KK live. I wanted to be a 19 once again. I was craving for a feeling I hated the most. I wanted my parents to be upset with me for going to place that was not too safe according to them. Well!, this time I was driving there myself! I had to return back by a given time (But strangely it was not bothering me)

Right in the middle of nowhere, the two of us stood there not being successful to see the stage. I was trying to find a place where I could see the stage. I tried to stand on my toes.. to try and move a bit on the left and a bit on the right to see if I could catch a glimse. She said, "Look at the screen."

I was quite dissappointed. I thought, Well! If I had to see him on screen then I would have just asked someone to send me a tape of the concert. Why would I want to come out in the cold and stand here see the screen. hmm... So there came the first song. There was a rush (in my head); I seemed to be a little bit too excited then the 19 year olds around me. I did find them staring once or twice instead of looking at the stage. It wasnt the first time someone was amazed by the freakiness. 5 songs down and I had forgotten who was besides me, everytime I looked back I found a different face, another time i found someone asking me to tie my hair up. I was too lost, happy and young to listen to that and replied, "I wont!" That's when I felt it again. That's when I realised it was not about watching someone on stage, it was not about standing in the cold, it was not about being young! It was about being in a crowd, being a part of the chorus created by us(the us that I had not made an effort to create!, it was about the effortless dancing and the unknown happiness that someone unknown standing next to you was experiencing.

Well! the knees did hurt and the throat ached. That's when we decided to leave. Leaving the crowd behind I felt as if I was leaving a piece of me behind. A piece of me that I enjoyed. A piece of me that was young - NO! that was just me... It was a piece of me that I was comfortable being.

I realised it was not that I was not young anymore. It was how much I was trying to delete the chaos in my life. Yes! That's all I needed a little bit CHAOS in my life!

from stories to storeys

There was a time I woke up, opened the blinds and the sun would greet me with a big smile. Yes the Australian sun can be quite fascinating. Specially for those of us who belong to the northern hemisphere. Christmas is celebrated in shorts by the river sipping cold beers and june is when the winter winds hit your hard. These were days when sitting in front of the computer, I needed to churn stories everyday. It felt as if there were a 100 stories happening around me. I would peep out the window and find a little boy walking to school. His mom would have her hand on his little shoulder. I was far away to know what they were talking about. All I could here was 40 cars rushing on the street outside. I would sit and imagine what they were thinking. It could be how the boy wanted to go gaming this evening and his mom was tryign to tell him how they needed to plan for the barbeque. At the market, oh how I love listening to conversations in the lanes. I would start with the veggies. Mostly there were young mothers shopping for fresh greens. They would be busy, carefully looking for cheap but good quality veggies. Then I would move to the sauces. UH! you always a couple or two trying to decide which one it was going to be Tangy tomato.. or creamy mushroom. And the all I could concentrate on were the two preceding words. The devil in my head I tell you... Moving to next lane on left was cereals and baby food. New mothers, single men and me. We would stare at the 50 varieties there... knowing that we would settle in for the same old Kellogs in the end. But well!, it was entertaining to stand there and behave extremely picky about the (boring) breakfast you have. I could not resist and find another story there. The man next to me picked up a huge box of original corn flakes. umhph I thought...He does not care about the what starts his day... does he even remember what he had for dinner - did he even have it last night?. Well! Well! Well! - Just when I thought I had lost a story, he picked up a small box of muselli. Alright! - these are some of the words that rang into my head. French? women - hmm no woman...? Ah haa... I was tempted to follow him around and see what else he picked up. But the list was pretty pressing and the the idea of carrying 3 liters of milk and another 2 kgs back home in the crazy sun did not sound too encouraging.

It's an interesting life - filled with stories - that I made my head. But there it seems like it was ages ago and there was an age for it. Today I wake up to an instant cup of coffee, 2 biscuits and have moved from the running between stories to a made rush of storeys.

in my cosy slippers...

tis when you have a whole lot of work .. you are always feeling the pressure of reaching work and on the other side of the day a pressure to reach home on time. A constant nag in your head that your work is way more than you think it is. you know that it is taking a lot of your mind and then you thinking while listening to the blaring music in your car that - do you have anything more important than work? Do you want something more important?

And then there is a sunday when your cousin wakes you up at 10.30am, A cup of coffee, no newspaper and MtV and breakfast at noon mark the beginning of the day. It's when you give your bath a miss and laze while having a long discussion with family on "why marriage is so not on your mind" When unconscious signs from your mom that you better be thinking about it and a conscious sign from your dad that he is happier to have you home than to send you off to someone else's home.

A long head massage, another huge cup of coffee, the tele in the background and feet rapped up in the blanket remind you of the pleasures of summer holidays.

Why do I need to wake up so early, dress, do all my work... when the true pleasure of life lie in my cosy slippers?