..in the habit of saying hello

It was 8 am in the morning. Quite an unusual day for me, as I had woken up early that day and went for a cup of ginger tea and smoke. By my face anyone could have told that I had not got fresh before coming to the shop, but no one could tell that I didn’t brush my teeth. Anyways, I asked for a cup of tea and lit my cigarette standing beside a tree stained with beetle spits. There was dog lying there on the other corner of the shop, his sleep disturbed by early morning traffic and was itching his ears. I was so much lost in watching that dog that I forgot that I had ordered for tea. I was shaken by my hand to hand me the cup.

Minutes later a man in his late thirties came there for tea or something. I didn’t notice that. But I saw that he was nicely dressed and well trimmed hair and mustache. He might have taken bath as it looked from his appearance. Who knows he might have applied simply water on his hair. He had a matching pair of brown shoes with the color of his belt. And like the most Bangaloreans was carrying a identity badge in his front pocket. As a part of my habit I was so lost in analyzing his appearance that I almost missed him staring at me too. Probably because of smoke. Pollution is really a big problem in Bangalore and now this nasty smoke. Forget it, I wont leave this habit I guess. Oh, where was I. Ahan, the young man staring at me. I said hello. He said hello and smiled. After a minute of silence he asked which place do I belong to. I said Bihar. Now as usual, I was expecting that I wont have to say a word to carry on the talk. He stood there speaking for another fifteen minutes about his experiences in Bihar. And like most of these stories, his story too started from his train experience(no pun intended). After he finished his talking he said not to mind his words, that was what happened with them. I sympathized with him ‘as usual’, saying that these things are quite common place in Bihar, there is nothing he should be ashamed of talking about. He nodded in affirmation. He shook my hand and left in a hurry. I was watching the dog. He was still itching his ears. He was still trying hard to sleep.

caged

locked in a cage i was thinking of getting out as soon as possible. time was running out and death was taking me over. i held the bars tightly and tried to pull apart to make room to come out. only to find that it was too strong and i failed. i was sweating and fear of death made me cry. i can not die now. i can not simply sit locked up in this cage. i have to come out no matter what. the familiar faces started appearing before me. i don't know whether they were making me panic even more or giving me strength. i sat down and leaned my head against the bars and started breathing heavily. i had never breathed so heavily.how did i land up in this cage? who put me in here? was it my foolishness? was somebody conspiring against me? i could think of nobody. i was not crying anymore. i was not even breathing heavily. everything seemed normal. it seems i had accepted that cage.

...an old one...thankfully it was saved too from my habit of deleting everything....i guess one day i ll delete the blog too :D

_she_sells_sea_shells_

her face was all yellow by the light of candles burning all around. the dim lights of candle made it hard for me to guess the colour of her gown like dress. but it surely made it even more beatiful than it wud have really been. she was carefully polishing the sea shells that she was selling. and to her distress there were no buyers that evening.

i guess it was neither the moon nor sea waves that was making that beach beautiful. it was all her solitary presence. it of course was her solitude but it was filling that evening on the beach with life and colours.

..an empty thought

one last mile...one last yard...one last step...stretching myself to the possibility of covering some distance more..my fatigued muscles were crying out in pain. was the pain beautiful as some term it? i dont know. i came to a halt and bent forward, with my hands on hip. i was panting for breathe. a tiny droplet of sweat trickled down my nose giving me a cold feeling. a few more trickled down and settled near my eyelids, a minute before i was thinking about stetching myself to one last step and now i was left with an empty feeling. i turned back and looked straight. i had come too far. was everything blinding before my eyes? i didnt have any answers. all i had was a numb cold feeling. feeling of being lost. feeling of left alone. feeling of something unknown. i didnt know how to term it. i didnt know what to think of it. but it was an unsettling feeling. a feeling to haunt me for the times to come. it has left me a hollow self and i dont even know about it.

no..not about anyone specific...had written it randomly..i think in my freshmen year....

you dont make me smile any more
you dont make my heart cry any more
laying back with my pillow on my back
i still think about you sometimes...
i wonder those memories are good or bad...
it all just passed by...
you dont make me smile any more
but your thoughts still make me sleepless
when it all just passes by...
probably it does not just pass by...
it just stays and stays a little longer
i sit back and light a ciggarette
in the hope that old memories just
come and go by
only to find that it stays and stays a little longer..
you dont make me smile anymore
you dont make my heart cry anymore

....silly thoughts (an old one again)

holding my fingers and walking beside me, my eight year old cousin was smiling. intently looking at his face i was wondering what thoughts were occupying him. probably some old joke or some silly moments, that he was thinking of. I guess twelve years older to him i am no different to him in this respect. there have been many a times when i was sitting all alone, sipping tea in the balcony and just smiling probably without any reason that others could find out. most of the times a silly one.

an old one...somehow it was not deleted by me..

looking at nothingness of the dark my mind was filled with some thoughts. probably darker than the darkness of night. and i found no stars to guide me through that dark path. i was thinking about the day before on the railway station. this was not the first time that i had been in such a situation. i was buying some eatables from a howker. An urchin came upto me and asked for something to eat. he reminded me of countless occasions when i had seens those unknown faces in the crowd. and by the time i cud delve deeper into my thoughts he demanded again. this time with a little hesitation. i gave him whatever i had in m y hand. he walked away pleasantly thrusting whatever i gave in his half torn pocket. i tried to concentrate on the magazine i was reading. i cud not find any single interesting article in it. with nothing else to do i leaned against the window and started watching the crowd. a few hurrying past the train and a few like me just looking at the crowd. that face again appeared somewhere from the crowd following the same set of procedures which he used with me. after a few denials he hit the jackpot again. at one time i thought why is he doing this when he has got enough to eat. i strongly disapproved his action. and this time i cud find time enough to go deeper in my thoughts. is it always the situation that forces a person to do what he is doing? doesn't his self reminds him or provokes him to think about what he is doing? probably marred by the harsh conditions of his life he is never able to think about it. And people as well hardly ever think about them as well never wanting to trouble themselves with the burden of these thoughts, dismissing them as just another trouble hounding them. Do they not deseve to live a better life? Do they not deserve to dream? Or their expectations from life is as little as we think it to be insufficient for a living? Do I sound like a fucking humanitarian? Still my problem is that i cannot stop myself from thinking about them too much and too often.

team bonding

probably the god dances before our eyes sometimes and we are but to

say...amazing. It was 4:30 am in the morning when we reached the

place...everyone dispersed to their rooms for a short nap. I had slept an hour or two

in the bus...so was not feeling sleepy at all. I lied there on a cemented platform..I

could not recognize that in the dark. I closed my eyes for sometime. It was

cold...not so cold..but cold enough to give a slight shiver. Murmurings went down

as people settled down in their cottages. When I opened my eyes I could see more

clearly...and I went deep into thinking of the scientific reasons behind it, that we

studied in primary school. I took a long breath..held it for sometime and exhaled it

slowly.......The thin line differentiating the mountain was not so sharp. It gave an

appearance as if something darker merged into something lighter. The later without

any stars. Probably it was a cloudy night. i don't remember that either. I lost myself

into one thought after another. Sometimes my thoughts turned darker...as was the

night sky...probably still darker....things lost..things hated...things loathed...things

never able to take hold of....some unknown things...mostly known things....or faces

perhaps if they like...when my wandering mind could no more hold the filthy stench

of that darkness...i shook my head...n scenes of merriment tresspassed my

mind...the lights began to crawl in the space around me...the thin line between the

mountain and the sky grew sharper....and rustling of air and whistelling of birds

began in the nearby bush...it was time to get and get inside the cottage...the crowd

will be out soon...i must hide myself before that...

high drama dark clouds of suspicion!!! a must read!!!

that guy in the maroon colored shirt, why is he looking at me? what business does he have in what i do, what i look like or what i buy? disgusting! people don't know how to mind their own business. i m seeing him. since last several minutes he is standing there, looking at me, which magazine i m asking for, what am i reading. oh god! i m not nervous. no, not me. i have never been nervous. excuse me a few exceptions. with that dishevelled look, hair unwashed and spreading in all directions, fairly long, beard growing unevenly, eyes protruding as if behind some invisible lens, he is nearly giving my heartbeat a run. no not yet. i am not nervous yet. i looked at him a few times straight in his eyes. yes, you see he didnt scare me. i am not afraid of him. why would he scare me? pity on him, his unhealthy condition. i have to one magazine from the counter, i dont seem to remember which one. you see these thoughts led me to forget even what magazine did i take. silly things. and what did i read, all crap. i just turned pages. that face around me wont let me concentrate on anything else. standing by the bamboo pole to which one string of the cloth roof of the shop hung, he is just staring. plain. but why of all people is he staring at me? i might be charming at times, surely not gay, may be he is comparing his dishevelled hair to mine, for the reason i didnt comb after shower today, or might be i remind him of some old friend or fiend. see how curious he got when i accidently turned to a page with a half-covered female body. what is he thinking about me? may be that, i am a sex maniac, have come over to buy some dirty cheap sex magazine, distrustful young fellow. you see i must not turn over that page right now or he will become sure of his doubt. i must pretend that everything is normal. it is casual to have a look at these kind of pictures. may be after reading a few sentences i should turn over. he will not suspect about anything then. but i can't make out what i am reading with these thoughts running through my mind. it is all gibberish. I must make a move now. It wont arise any ill thought in him. he will be lost again with his gaze on someone else's like me or he may follow me after i move. i must take a different route in that case, a more crowded route which will not lead me to my home. probably, watch his few moves before i turn towards home. no, he is not looking back at me. his gaze is still fixed at the point where my head should have been, had i not moved from that place. then why was i thinking like that about him? may be he is pretending now to be casual. i must wait some more before he moves. no, that will create unnecessary confusion in my mind again. it is all getting heavy. i should go somewhere good. may be in a park. yes, i love to watch children playing there. yes i can get something to drink also. yes. that is a better idea.

..roasted honey and steamed ginger

...what on earth will make me think of a name like that...but..but everything has a reason behind it...remember ever since renaissance...the outcome of evil mind of mankind or manunkind...however you think of it....man has a reason for everything...reason o the holy reason...o the fucking reason...are we so desolate and decripidited that we have to rely on you rather than ourselves...nevermind...the times will come...or rather has come...when mankind is deep into the well of emotions...that foul smelling dark well of emotions....oh...he has become so used to the smell that he will not like anything else....now he thinks of a reason...still thinks of a reason for everything...but there is always an overcast of emotions...which surpasses all boudaries of reasons...errr....did i say boundaries of reasons....i must mention all that depend on one's toungue...reasons...strong enough or weak enough...see how far it got stretched...from roasted honey and steamed ginger to reasons...
it was 3 am in the morning or late night(because there are different takers of this as well)...i drank water and looked at the bottom of the glass in my hand...it showed my twisted face...it was not his fault...i dont know if i will be able to identify my real self....i didnt know what to do next...there were pieces of cut ginger kept near the tea pot...unwashed since last two days..when i had a similar mood swing..or fit..or whatever u call it...i poured water in it and put the ginger pieces too....and kept it for boiling...dont ask me what i was thinking...atleast after all that lecture on reasons and emotions...it fucking kills all the fun...it gave a bitter smell...and a bubbling sound...accompanied only by the sound of fan..which lay hanging from the ceiling...whirling since a long time....there was a spoon kept on the side of the stove...left unwashed since last two days when i had used it to take out honey from the jar...no...there were no ants around...i took it and kept it on the flame....the smell was defying..aptly suited to the bitter smell of steamed ginger....and my bitter mood....i switched off the stove....that was the only source of light in the kitchen...it was dark after that...i had my hand holding the spoon...i took if off the stove and the tea pan too...kept it beside the stove...probably for another such night to come...i left the kitchen and lied down on my bed....my thoughts wandered from the smell of ginger to roasted honey...to purple sky...to diving in a purple space....before i was lost