The chat box

She opened facebook, a li'l excited.She knew her message icon would blink.She clicked it.In the first tab was the message she was waiting  to read the whole day.She opened the chat box. His text read, " I have been waiting the whole day.Where are u?"

She started typing, but immediately lost the nerve to continue. Why should she chat with a strange person? What on earth has he done for her? Words can triumph a palace in mind.But they have the power to tumble-down the same palace. It's as simple as that.She has heard parents warning their daughters not to trust anyone through facebook, chats etc..And she knew with all her brain that she was  not under the clutches of blind 'Trust'. But she wanted to hang on. What if she getsno one to talk to? What if she regrets at a later stage for losing him?

Though these thoughts searched for a base to hold on, fear had started engulfing her..Fear of losing herself..Fear of not having anyone.Fear of living alone ..

They kept talking for days..months..About movies, their future plans on studies, their friends and what more, their discussions even took up international crises..

She neither saw him in person , nor did she try see him.But the voice inside her kept telling," Don't miss a thing in life"

To end this 'fear Vs fall' war , one day, she said, 'YES'..she thought that the worlds would come down to hug her for her courage, that the seas would cover her with glory.Above all, she wanted him to come face to face and talk something that would soothe her ears.

She supposed, if she met him face to face, if she could prove herself that he was flesh and blood, his spell would break and she would be free again. She wanted to believe that it was only a matter of time and patience.But that never happened. She knew, sooner or later, she would know the truth. And that the truth would liberate her. Slowly, she envisaged the journey she took.After all, what did she know about him, other than what he  told her?By then, she was determined to personate him as an antihero.

When one is willing to present someone as a badass, there are 2 possibilities: either he is too good, or one has no idea of that someone.

Suddenly she knew, she had no idea of him.

She was ready to let go.'Death of thoughts' was the only way out.The truth is, she never got to know anyone well.She wouldn't let them.She was a very private person , and sometimes it seemed that she was no longer interested in the world or in other people.Never mind whatever might have been between people.'Death of thought' does that:it makes everyone feel sentimental.When we stand in front of a died thought, we see only what is good , or what we wish to see.She believed that nothing happens by a chance.Deep down, things have their own secret plan, even though she didn't understand it at the moment.

Her soul is in her stories.She asked herself who inspired her to befriend people and she found the answer: no one.That , all of her 'people' were herself , from different angles.She knew , it's hard to live alone. But it's harder to live on something that probably doesn't exist.She opened a book.It read, " There are 2 kinds of definitions: the one you define,  and the one that defines you. But nothing, whatever it may be, can make you, without your consent.Turn your wounds into wisdom". She closed the book.She smiled, cause she knew the difference then.....

courtesy: someone who doesn't want her name to be revealed.

                                                               ♡♡♡
                                 

IT.....             


                               'To b secure on d land, one must b supreme at d sea'- wen I was waiting for psychological test, i read it and , my mind began to work rapidly.India , being  a peninsular region, has to b secure. Yeah...I knew it already.But was I so much interested in securing d land???May b no..Or perhaps , yes..For I have  missed my farewell and last year arts fest for this selection..SSB was not my dream.I knew it by heart..But there was this urge, hard to explain kinda thing , that held me there like  a prisoner wen I cud have  had so much fun in my place."Chest num:10, what r u looking at? Listen to what I say"..I heard the instructor  shouting at me..For all those days, I have never given ears to the instructor..I was trapped inside a question,
  " Y am I here?"
But when students queued up with wild enthusiasm that was unsettling, i had made an answer.
I was on a run.
Everybody wants to run.At some point in life, everybody thinks about walking away.Life's always better on the beach or in the mountains.  Problems can be left behind.It's inbred in us.We're the products of immigrants who left miserable conditions and came in search of a better life. And yet, I was there, to experience something, hoping for a miracle that could transform me to a supernatural being. I had my interview the very next day.
He asked, "What was ur dream as a child? "
I responded, this time totally honest-"As a child, I wanted to be a film actor."
He continued-"And now? "
I answered without hesitation-"Now i am in the process of discovery."
He was amused-"Then why ssb?"
I replied-"I wanted to say the truth atleast in one interview.I don't wanna bluff and get a job.Thank you sir for giving me this opportunity to speak the truth"

He was baffled.My interview was over by a span of 20-30 minutes when others had it for almost one hour. I was rejected for such a blatant response, as well.But I can say, with no doubt that, this was the best interview in my life.And, the best days i can never forget.A figment of me will always cherish , thinking of my friends there..All from India, from diverse cultures..With different views, but with same aim-NAVY..Though I was an odd one with a very different aim,  this team taught me  a unified truth that i knew deep in my heart...The truth I refused to accept. That Life on the run was life in the past.There was no closure to it..But i was ready to close that , then.After my five days in the ssb, i was freely riding a bicycle inside IISc..A poem suddenly broke out from nowhere-

" One fine morning, I woke up , searching for 'it'..

I asked my friends

I searched in my family

I didn't know'its' name

I didn't know 'its' form

I thought 'it' could come from fantasies

And started searching new shores

But one day I found 'it'

'It' had no name, no form

'It' was music to d soul, dance to d body

By then, I had started missing 'it'

'It' was me and I embraced 'it' with open heart"


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    courtesy:The Partner(a fiction)

                                                                                                                        ♡♡♡

PERHAPS, THERE ARE REASONS...

                           She looked outside through the window. But there was not a trace of a bike.Was she expecting? Before she could recollect her thoughts, her phone beeped. 

And the message read, "Tell me the exact location."

By that time, she had started having second thoughts. She typed in a haste, "Hey, I don't think the challenge is worth it. Drop the matter and ride back."

But he was glued to his decision.

"It is one thing to not take up a challenge than to take and lose. I would rather go for the latter."

Yeah...She was a crazy stuff...Eccentric..Arrogant..And even a condemner at times...But the whole idea of aiding a boy to find her house and betting him to come up at night seemed like an odd combo of all these.Somehow, the wager seemed terribly ridiculous.

The phone beeped again.This time, she felt a panic.The message read, "I am at the junction. Which path should I take?"

Her mind was recalculating all the possible ways to get out of the troubles. But her heart, which loved music. art and all matters that were not considered practical in the world, concluded that it preferred to see something wild . Before her mind could read answers, her hands had given the location. The  more she thought of the entire thing, the more confused she felt. She heard a tyre creaking all of a sudden. She looked out. There he was, decisive and resolute.She literally laughed. No complications,,, no second thoughts..He did not honk, nor did he create a commotion. That moment was like a spell, strong enough to push sidewalls. But the purity of the spell left with him, when he drove off. 

She flashed through her memories. When he told her there was something about her, she had laughed off. Eventually, she has even shown him her house. Where was she heading to?

She saw her parents chitchatting merrily.With the sight of them, she felt her heart heavy. And to feel phony around them, she believed, is the greatest sin ever. She called her dad and told the entire story. Though he wore an expression of shock, he spoke with a a controlled tone,"You tend to complicate your life, as if living weren't already complicated enough. Take it easy...Things happen at this age..And take it as a form of present.Presents are given for the pleasure of the one giving it and not for the one who is receiving it. Take it that way, dear." And he wished her good night.

If someone ever has a daughter- A blessing no one would wish on anyone, because it' almost a law that sooner or later, she will break her dad's heart- that someone will begin, without realising it, to divide men into 2 camps: those who are trying on her and those who are not. Whoever says that's not true is lying through his teeth.

Silence and doubt gnawed at her. She knew the feeling she had was 'floating' and not 'falling'..Moreover, she did not want to be the one playing with a boy like a cat with a canary.

She wondered what on earth he saw in her that could make him feel to befriend her, other than her eagerness to escape into the unknown worlds and second hand dreams.

She took her phone and typed:

" Oil asked a half filled cup of pure water, 'May I fill you?'

The cup replied, 'Try it. But the result, I suppose, will only be an emulsion.'

But the oil tried knowing ,the difference cannot be made. And the cup thanked him for trying"

She clicked the send button and turned her phone off.

                                                     courtesy: A student , CET Engineering college, The shadow of the wind(a mystery I have read)

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              ♡♡♡

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

THE DAY!!!!!!

Cries....Loud cries...Relatives waited outside for the baby girl

It was dawn break.They named her, 'The Day'.

They blessed her with wishes. The child that could meet their expectations was right in front of them to live a whole life.They had a lot to do for, 'The Day'.The way she should grow, surrealism in thoughts and duty in actions...They had a lot to teach her.

She grew, seeing a bloom blossom, watching the birds chirping, wondering at the shining river water..And what more!!She thrilled everyone around. The surroundings showered her with great love..

She grew.

Glowing with miraculous power, she lit even fine grains of sand. She was omnipresent and, her power never diminished. But to her dismay, she was rewarded only with admonishments. Every street corner corner envied her for her enthusiasm. But the constant jibes held a postion somewhere in the sleek part of her heart. And her dreams got shattered. But her youth didn't stand long.Middle age crawled in.

Yes...She grew..

She knows for sure that she has started losing the ace. But she tried to keep up. Though not so powerful, she was in there lighting up tender love,  appreciating family reunion . But this was close to nothing.

She grew old. She lost her sheen. The blooms once blossomed were bidding farewell. The birds didn't exchange words with her.Instead, they set their nests up. River water turned calm and quiet in her presence. Yes..She was decaying. Her old age was devouring her. She knew the end was soon. Without much fanfare, she bit the dust. As her tomb, her family set 'Moon'.

                                                                                                                      courtesy:ATHIRA S

                                                                                                                     
                                                                                                                                       ♡♡♡

   As I unpack my dream!!!

                                 I was at my office when I received a message that said my ordered pair of "Ghungroo" will arrive today. I was overwhelmingly happy. It was always a dream to start over.Though I was not a frequent performer never was I reluctant to grab the few opportunities that came my way.I have always rejoiced at the way my feet worked on the ground when my mind floated among the clouds. I forget my worries, I forget my nullity, I forget myself. That's what is special being a dancer....it made me embrace the world as it is....with all that imperfections and wild exuberance. Thoughts flashed.... the realization struck. I have changed...changed for some reason. I am not the person  I was. Oh yeah!! those thoughts... They eat me always, but this time they brought tears to my eyes. I kept my phone aside, wiped off the tears and continued my work. 

                             It was almost 5:00 in the evening when I reached back home. There waited a parcel, packed carelessly and thrown to the ground with some carefree demeanour.....just like my shattered dreams, there laid my ghungroo orphaned. Without much thought I hid it under the drape of my saree and quickly got inside.

                                To my husband, goggling at the computer I said with amazement about my new pair of ghungroo. For him it was not a meaty piece of information. Something else mocked in his head, he asked, "How much does this cost?" I went mute. I opened my mouth to say something, but on second thoughts I let it dissolve. It was then my daughter who came running. As if spilling the beans, I talked in a blue streak, "See, what I have got" and extended the pack. She stood silent..neither did she looked to my hands nor did she give a smile. She ran out throwing her bag carelessly to meet her friends. My daughter, she's too bubbly..,I chuckled.

                                 It was time for a hot cup of tea and snack. I put the parcel aside and walked to the kitchen. I felt my heart heavy. But I didn't bother to think about it.

                                Sitting infront of  served tea and snack...like a child.....I waited to get some words of approval or appreciation from my husband. He talked about nothing but falling stock rates and tense market conditions. I felt so lonely deep inside my heart. Questions popped up. But my heart won over my brain in the race for answers. I hid the sudden outburst of tears and got up silently collecting the cups and plates and walked towards the kitchen. Yes, dancers are good at controlling emotions and putting a fake one on face if the story  is in demand for it.

                                 Getting things done, I walked to my room with the parcel. Though my excitement had disparaged I ran hands over the parcel to tear it open, yes to tear open the dreams that remained packed for years. "Maaamaaaaa....." my daughter called out. "Help me out with this home work please!" she shouted. Changing priorities.....!!!!I remembered what my mother said.I forced my mind to shuffle and rearrange the priority list which I have been doing for the past 5 years. The wait is not yet over. I put the packet aside and walked to my daughter's room. She was all ready with books and pencil. I took her through the magical world of stories. She was Cindrella.. I was her Stepmother...She was Thumbelina ...I was that Toad!!!....Ahh!!! the plays didn't go as mad as expected. I saw a rewarding smile in her face. It is often overlooked in the aspect of dance training..character helps dancers to gain deeper understanding of the story. Portraying a character convincingly without the boosting of music is the sign of a versatile dancer. I can get a pass mark on that, I thought.

                                      I have never been this busy before....may be it's just a feeling. It was 10:00 at night when I got time to breathe. I didn't even bother to wipe off my sweat. With all eagerness I tore open the packet. The pair of ghungroos fell on my lap. Cling!!!! I took it with grace and ran hands over the bells beautifully strung together. My heart lightened. I tied them above my ankles and stood still for a second. I made small steps....poses....and danced. There was no one to see my performance that night. I didn't want to bother my daughter or my husband who were already asleep.  And I danced.....The walls and the paintings on them became  silent witnesses. Yes...witnessing the performance of an unfortunate dancer.

                                                                       ♡♡♡

         

        a story......                                        

                                                        And then he began his story .."Once upon a time, 5 pens decided to find their destinations. They went to the market desiring for a better future. In a small, dimly lit shop, they sat dreaming for a miracle. In less than 2 days, 2 of them were taken to the King's palace , where they were greeted by wealth and prosperity. In a week, the 3rd one was admitted to a court where it was assigned to set rules and regulations. Unlike the other 2, it had a duty and this made it proud. A couple of weeks passed by. One among the last 2 was bought by an accountant who handled business. It rejoiced since it was meant to manage 'money'- The most powerful element on earth. The last one waited patiently for its turn. Hours, days and weeks passed by. The owner of the shop tried his level best to sell it. But none of his tries borne fruit. Months later, when he was sure that no one would turn up for this pen, he handed it over to a poor man who had no house or job. The pen cried lamenting its fate.  But the man, who had no pen till date, started writing stories. And this pen lived a life when other pens just survived...The end" - The writer smiled and told the interviewer, "This is my story".

"But sir"- The interviewer interrupted, " What shall I make out of this?"

The writer frowned, but immediately dangled his eyebrows up and down. With an exhale,he remarked, "What you wish to perceive!"

With this he bid farewell.

As always, words remained secret doorways and he held all the keys.

The interviewer smiled ...That's the thing about people who kept moving, packing and leaving, and always remaining a mystery. You feel phony around them..

                                                                                                                                     ♡♡♡
                   

To
My Diary

                Today, when I am totally ready to share my feelings with you, I thought I should share these with masses, as I am wholly sure that I resonate the minds of 67 people. 67 souls who were joining their hands for adventures, making invisible friends in nature, whose smell they carry on their hands. I am sorry that this time, I am sharing things not just with you , but with many since we 67 had left shadows all the way from HP to Kerala.

I was wonder-struck at each thing I saw.Words fail when I am so much in want of them. I wanted to extricate what I felt, when I was mesmerised by the sight of the great tomb, 'Taj Mahal'. I wanted my eyes to pierce deeper and deeper when I saw Taj floating in the clouds. More than a vision, it was a feeling you get when you sieve the indifference and, view it from Agra fort. There started the flamboyant journey. Each time, I felt sure that, nature had been waiting for me, for years, probably since before I was born.

Kullu, Manali-Places always worshipped for their beauty had more to tell. Chillness was one thing; but the wind there carried purity, as if summoning anyone who paid a visit there.

When we were back to Delhi, I remembered someone...Someone who called Delhi a romantic city...Yes, I did get the feeling this time. And at last, when I knew it's time to pen all these, I wanted to reverberate the feelings of all the 67

Well..If you ask me, a journey is a robber of hearts, and I will never forgive nature for that. But if I must be frank, a day won't go by without me thinking of this trip, of the walks we had, or of how I felt when I stood dumbfounded in front of all the wonders I witnessed. Each place I saw had been somebody's best friend. And in each of them is a boundless universe yet to be discovered.

The first images, the echo of nature accompany us throughout our lives and remain dusted in our memories.No matter how many trips you make, how much you learn, how great you travel...these images leave a picture that can never be forgotten, however hard you try...

                                                                                                                                  From
                                                                                                                                           Bloom

♡♡♡