Picture Perfect !!

Every picture always depicts a story unseen.

It feels quite different today, with the absence of all that jittery feeling of emptiness I dwell into everyday. Even the early morning sunlight is bright enough to kiss my skin from the silhouette of the trees grown in my garden. The aroma of the morning dew is replaced by the faint smell of burning woods, probably its the water kept for boiling on the woods in the neighbours. It seems to be a good time to hold my brush.

Today I feel like to paint you and it never felt so strongly before in all these years. It feels like some old revered memories are rushing back like dying waves coming down to hit the shore of my thoughts with all the energy they hold . You were beautiful, you were not meant to be re-created. I never held the skills to make you my subject to paint , you were simply beyond the bounds of possibility. Probably it was always the fear paramount over my skills to fail at this endeared task. It’s somehow easy now, after all these mammoth sized anxieties have subsided to mere aphids after losing you.

I quickly take a look at the easel lying at the corner and bring it to the right place, and start to search for my essentials.  I slip out a clean sheet of paper from the covers, the paper looks great with that rich white colour spread evenly outright till the edges and seems powerful than ever for all the nothingness it holds together. The acrylic tubes can still be squeezed enough to get the work done. I reach out for my pockets to find the pack of cigarettes empty and now I need to buy one cause it’s going to be a long sitting and lately I have realized without one its difficult for me to hold my brush still . I pick some crumbled bills and buy myself a pack of cigarettes and a couple of charcoal pencils. And finally its time to bring you down on my paper.

I close my eyes to picture you, it’s always easy to find a perfect image of you in my mind, it appears so clear with every intricate details , each holding a story to reminisce on the moments we lived together. I hope you would find some attributes captured so perfectly which will make you realise even your mirror somehow missed out on those and you would surely jump back to life to view in the mirror to confirm . In no time I see my hands moving over the paper so elegantly like an independent craftsman who knows his work well and have probably done you a million times over. It certainly feels like as if I’m running my fingers over every inch of your skin and my brush trying to imitate it perfectly on the paper with the varying pressure over the tip of the brush resembling the grooves over your skin.  The thoughts in my mind are blurred out during this whole time till I realise it’s finally done and my brush is resting on the palette.

I take a moment to look at this creation and its perfect. I can see your hairs come out exactly as desired, you could notice the invisible spaces between the fine strands of your hair. Flossy and shine they fall over your shoulder perfectly.  And how could I possibly go wrong with those eyes, those sparkling brown eyes have some irresistible charm – the possible doors to your soul which never betrayed your feelings. And the fine tiny wrinkles at the edge of the eyes if you observe carefully. Even the slender long eyebrows arched over escalates the beauty of her eyes . A clear brow which slides down at the centre over your nose and the smooth hairline running down to the sides ending at the ears hiding behind your hairs and I took special care while building the side lines cause I could feel them fit perfectly in my hands every time I hold you. That perfect smile you wear makes me fall for you each time I see you and fixed with those delicate lips pared to perfection. Did I mention the texture of your skin, its smooth like silk and that special glow brings joy to faces. Probably you were just flawless to define.

I wish you were here in real to praise you than this mere replication of yours. I stub out the cigarette in the ash tray and rise to I pick up the portrait to find a place on one of my walls . As I enter the room , I see an empty frame and a dozens of  this exact painting hanging on the walls. To my surprise , I find a note on the empty frame. The note unfolds a shocking reality of me suffering from something termed as anterograde amnesia- its losing ability to create new memories . It made my heart sink for a while, but I realize everything falling into place. The feeling of emptiness and these exact same paintings hung on the wall. But I wonder why this note is placed near the empty frame. Probably its only the memory of you which has stayed intact all these years, and this painting somehow helps me cope up with my memory disorder. I create another empty frame on the wall with the note and hope the next time I feel like to paint you it would bring a new memory of having an empty frame with a note waiting for me.

 

Into the dark and lonely

I’m about to enter inside now. The endless darkness is going to consume me all over again as the world crashes down behind the doors . The sole purpose to invade this mysterious space everytime is to decipher the enigma of chaos created overtime. Past encounters have been kind of a let down , after all there ain’t any method to ensure an infallible outcome. They say only an englightened few souls have mastered the way through it ,and rest all others are struggling all their lives to create a conducive environment within.

The deceptive illusions are the real monsters that intrude from nowhere in the dark and you fall prey to their splendour visuals , leaving you defeated in your own territory. And the poor you are left helpless with no soul present at your rescue.

Going unprepared seems unwise, so I gear up and take my positon, a few deep breaths and I rush into the dark with the doors closed behind.

It’s absolute dark in here, the darkness is spread over the entirety of the space contained within these thin walls which you are familiar with, but still delusive enough to fathom the depth of the space. I couldn’t stop but embrace its beauty and the fact that I completely own it.

Even before I could realize time measured a change , I notice something happening. The darkness is suddenly fading away and I see fear turn into reality.

I see myself sitting on a bed ,  it looks familiar . Ahh! its my delhi room , I’m probably on this same mission. Terribly tiny tales filled on hallway wall. Road leading towards the metro. I’m travelling in the metro. We are sitting in a cafe, she is looking down hiding her face from me and its dark outside the windows. Tall building , powai lake in front from a sky view, its raining ,me at the balcony , music being played, book in my hand – Curfewed Nights , Kashmir man white face pointed nose. Have to  travel to Wagoora to meet Amir Wani ,trapped inside powergrid substation boundaries since things are out of control outside, he tells me a story never heard before. India map turned into terrain map, green patches and mountains. China, now its a world map, russia and a big chunk of land, a long strip of land southeast , Bali trip, on scooty tall trees on both side ,fancy clothes. The experiment of desire. Eleven Minutes. Bigbooks. Parcel placed over the newspaper,govt, current affairs. Pick up mobile, whatsapp – CR broadcast, morning shift ,medu vada before catching the bus , office control room , grid , pmu plot analysis ,oscillations, paper publish, US. Travelling the world with her, she’s beautifull, her dress , smiling at me when mummy is feeding me with her hands at home. And I finally realize its too late now the battle is long lost.

I open the doors and make way for light to guide my vision. Its an another easy defeat, this poor mind will never keep calm, its constantly restless as a willow in a windstorm. This wild creature has no boundaries and certainly can’t be tamed to silence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall !

Mirror mysteries are always fascinating, Imagine the mirror that always reflects the obvious truth if someday shows up with something that you don’t believe in. It will freak the hell out of you.

“My mirror, you look suprised today.

 What’s the matter ? 

I see nothing unusual to my appearance that should concern you.

But your gaze somehow indicates I am unable to see the obvious right away.

Are you sure something is unfamiliar or is it just a mere illusion of yours ?

As I see everything is still the same –

The heart is no less broken than before.

The eyes are still dry and pale tired of crying. 

The dark circles can’t get any darker with the countless nights devoid of sleep.

The hair is all shabby and mess and the beard has grown long over the years.

The smile is invisible as if the lip line never knew it could get any wider.

The skin has long lost its glow beyond repair.

Then, What’s the difference ?

Your fear is driving me crazy besides you are the only one I could trust these days.

I wish I could see the difference and rather get suprised by you.”

As he drops his head down disappointed, deep inside he knew what the mirror meant to say but didn’t have the courage to acknowledge it. After all he couldn’t stop thinking about this girl he met last night and who seems to demolish these walls he built around himself again making him vulnerable and weak and he definitely holds no strength anymore to bare the pain again. This girl simply challenged his prejudice about love and the idea of giving up on someone he defined love was difficult for him to even think about . True love is meant to happen only once , is what he made himself to believe all this years. 

And the truth revealed by the mirror stood against this belief. Knowing the mirror would always reflect this inevitable change for forever now ,it is just the matter of time when he will stand in consensus with the mirror , he tries hard to hold his tears and looks back into the mirror but this time it’s with the smile of acceptance and the change is visible.

Do you remember me ?

This conversation was just hanging around the corner to finally intrude our talks but I felt to imprint this on my blog forever to help us whenever we feel that way again.

    Not that I haven’t heard from you for long. Its just that I haven’t heard  you well for long. Lately our talks are summed up with  the regular blunt gestures, somewhere lacking the substance I seek. The questions still sound the same it used to be then , only the answers have changed during the course of time. There’s this strange feeling of losing track of you no matter how regularly we might talk. Since the present seems less encouraging than the beautiful past , I truly fear about the upcoming future. Lately , It seems some efforts are needed to help us build that conversation and I’m not able to find the right thing to ask cause we have never worked out this way before. I guess, this struggle is growing strong with a depreciating sense of empathy for the other. 

     As all I know every story shared builds empathy between the storyteller and the storytold. Hence with recent irregularities​ in the series of our life stories, all I’m losing is my sense of empathy for you. Such problem didn’t find a place in the past since much of the trouble was averted with the excitement to share even the silly happenings that we care. Nowadays it’s more about keeping it brief and unornamented. 

Earlier we enjoyed the leasure to talk anytime and everytime and now its about categorising it like the ones necessary to tell and not so necessary ones to compensate for lack of time as it is understood. And with the time passing by all the little stories are labelled  not so necessary ones,and all I’m left with are the final conclusions with the absence of the tiny details making it hard to feel it the right way you want me to. 

 Don’t you feel the urge to pickup​ the phone and dial someone while these little incidences reiterate in your thoughts ? What’s​ holding you back ? I admit nowadays I see myself suddenly stop too. I’m still not able to picture what’s holding me back but at the end I couldn’t help myself but succumb to silence. And with every failure , all I could see myself giving up easy on to being silent and impassive.  But dear I would like you to know I think about you and only you every time when there’s a story either Big or Small , Important or Silly as it can be, is dying to be heard. And with every such unsaid story ,I think we are struggling more to ask the right thing.

The truth is  I’m terrified about the idea to have ever known you any less than yourself. And I always believe its you someone I can always count one , the one who would know me inside out, the one who’s not needed to be remembered of any moment of my past which he haven’t heard before. If any such unspoken stories accompany you in your solitude and make you feel like to be heard, the only right thing I would ask be –

“Do you remember me ? 

 Cause I do remember you.”

Congratulations!

Weddings and receptions everywhere, seems magically everyone found their perfect match. Talking love and tender emotions have suddenly become an act of the past. Here’s how I fancy a special moment would be shared by the sweet couple at a wedding ( an adaption inspired from e e cummings poem ).

So here you are said he

All for you said she

Can I feel you close ? said he

This much close ? said she

Time lost count as you walk down that aisle said he

History saved , I almost trembled for a while said she

Four years wait , we made it through said he

Being apart was tough , but I always believed in you said she

I wanna hold you tight for long as time said he

Just with care , I might squeal but that’s fine said she

Your beauty ! – ineffable and divine said he

I believe your eyes knows it more than mine said she

Warm and Alluring , thy words I feel said he

Its my heart in thrall to your irresistible charm said she

The pleasure I seek being with you , nowhere I find said he

The care and empathy you show , there’s no such kind said she

Is it love ? said he

Love , if you will said she

“vuoi sposarmi ? ” said he

“Sì , I do ” cried she

( Audience rise in applauds )

They were meant to be said they

Congratulations! said he

Congratulations ! said she

Oh Tears!!!

I call out for you to be my guest tonight.

 

Hi Tears !

Nice to meet you. Look at you, haven’t changed a bit since my knowledge of you. Might sound a little quirky, but I happen to call you today for no reason. Yeah and I’m completely sober and sane if you have such doubts now, and I don’t wish to demean the very purpose you serve. I know you have many more reasons to appear, but today it’s just you. I have vague memories of you associated with my childhood although the recent ones have been registered well. I suppose your occurrence has reduced with time, not that the reasons are falling short, it’s just that I have learned to hold you on for few. It’s always something else that occupies my mind and heart when I sought solace in you, but today let’s just talk about you. I fear I ever gave a sound thought about you all these years and I must admit I barely know you for real, how is it to be you? I mean all that enormous amount of human emotions you hold in that tiny little drop. I couldn’t possibly fathom the gravity of such measure you could carry within you with my inept mind. I’m just aware of the ones you shared with me, what about the billion others I’m oblivious to. What is it like to experience those countless short-lived journey of yours on billions of faces that you come across ? I mean a lifetime wouldn’t suffice to explore your treasure of life experiences. And I could imagine how rich your treasure chest would be as the stories collected over these years would be no ordinary ones. I mean tell me how intense would be those emotions,  on the face of that Survivor who opened his eyes to witness the devastating site of bloodshed after the attack, to be on her face while she couldn’t fight anymore against those monsters holding her against the ground, giving her pain. On that poor schizophrenic who is struggling hard for life to understand what is real. To be rolling on his face who’s unable to make her realize how it feels like dying inside.You equally stand for the better and beautiful side of emotions too like the one on the faces of those parents to see their new-born child after trying for long. On that artist for the love bestowed on him by the millions cheering for him, on this old proud face who retired from work today after serving his duty for years with sincerity. In those spiritual moments of  ecstasy and joy when they understand the philosophy of human misery. Your indifferent nature towards joy and sorrow reflects your egalitarian trails too. How different does it feel to look on whom you appear ? Like how big and strong where the emotions when the Mahatma shed one or even the mighty Hitler for that matter and how small where they when the kid along the roadside shed few out of hunger. According to Hindu legend, even Lord Shiva couldn’t hold on to his strong feelings, the single tear from his eyes fell on the earth to grow into a Rudraksha tree. It’s unreal to empathize your strength to hold such emotions in all these cases. I fancy about your different pathways over the faces once you drop out of the eyes and finally disappear for eternity. Like the ones emerging from the edges and running along the sidelines and finally getting soaked into our pillows, or the ones running along the cheeks till you drain off over the tip of the chin. Sometimes getting wiped off by hands before reaching the lips while traveling along the nose line , some odd little times you get to reach over the lips but you kind of taste a bit salty over the tongue. It’s better you don’t leave back visible stains on our faces , or else every life would have been an open-book to read. I wish you could be collected and preserved to revisit the emotions you hold on for. I wish you were vocal to we people to make us realise what’s really going on within.

Tears waited all this long quietly holding on to my eyelids to hear me and finally rolled away from my eyes like it always does.

​If I were you !!

So when does this battle begin ? It happens everyday, in every little instance. In all likelihood they’ll always stand to differ

He accompanies me while on my way to work and back home generally, fortunately he is free all the time and me on the other side simply occupied with my routines and other stuffs. It’s usually the same journey which follows everyday until one fine day it changed forever. Here’s how our journey began as we step out from my house that day –

Episode 1: We arrive at the auto-stand to reach the railway station .While waiting for an auto to arrive, He points me to this guy waiting behind me in the queue, looking at his watch every second impatiently, might be late for some real important assignment. He hints me to make a move upfront to help the poor guy skip the queue to save him some time there. But I somehow fail to gather enough courage to ask and I quietly slide into the auto as it arrives.

Episode 2: We rush to the railway platform since I’m bit late today. He distracts my sight towards this penurious lady sitting  with her infant in her lap near the walls of the platform, might be in need for some food to feed her child. He gives this look as if I probably know what he might say now but I disgracefully look down and make my way with the crowd as soon as the train enters the platform.

Episode 3: We catch our bus en route, today it’s quite crowded and I’m fortunate enough to enjoy this window seat. And suddenly he turns my head towards this stranger who is profusely sweating and exhausted as if he just ran a marathon to catch this bus, looks like he might need my seat more than me for now. But I simply turn my head back again through the window pane.

Episode 4: We get down at our bus stop and start walking towards our office premises along the footpath. He calls for my attention towards a skinny guy struggling to pull the loaded cart behind him on road . I carry this sympathetic look and simply enter the gates of my office.

Episode 5 : After a hectic day, we friends were enjoying ice-creams along the roadside. He asks me to notice the poor kid walking away disappointed, looks like he just fell short of few more coins to buy an ice cream for himself. I just stand and act like a spectator there.

Episode 6: While walking towards our building stairs, I usually avoid looking at this particular balcony. I know I will find this old little man sitting on his chair carrying that same old impassive look for years since I remember. I always struggle to make a comfortable gesture to him. Pretty well acquainted with this shortcoming he still provokes me by purpose. I accept my defeat and walk straight towards the stairs.

Disturbed with all the incidences he tried to indulge me into today. I make him stand in front of me and question his intent behind this play. His witty smile further gets me annoyed and furious. He softly utters “If I were you, it wouldn’t have been the same for you as well as for few others today,dear friend”. I just collapse down to my knees in tears because he was none other than myself in front of me. I was equally petrified with the one residing within me the whole time.  And there I finally discovered these two identities confronting each others.

Sometimes you need to lose some mind to win some heart.”