I just love to sit at my window and look outside when it rains. Somehow it reminds of a person that I had walked in the rains with. I am someone who hates to get wet and have been pretty clear about it from the very beginning. But then again there are some people who just hold your hand and drag you out with them when it rains and all that you do then is simply look at the happiness in their eyes and can’t help but get lost in it. It’s simply a walk to remember! People part from each other, times change and we get lost into our separate lives but there are certain memories which are vividly fixed somewhere at the back of our mind. At the sudden stroke of the clock and with some events it all seems to come back again like a flash and you feel as if you are going to relive the same moment, probably not in reality but only in your imagination.... And believe me when I say it’s beautiful; that you can’t help but smile, even when you relive it once again in your imagination.
We all have heard of certain times, when with someone, the time around us suddenly stops and we get so helplessly lost in our situation that nothing around us matters. Looking out my window at the falling raindrops, I feel as if I’m once again holding her hand walking down the promenade in oblivion of everything around me. Is it the fresh green colour of the trees with dirt washed away that makes them suddenly look so bright and beautiful or the twinkle in her eyes that makes me wonder at their sudden beauty? Has the fading light ever been so beautiful before? Has the crash of waves on the rocks ever been like sweet music before? I just fail to determine if it’s the raindrops or the touch of her hands which recreate the entire magic in a different way altogether. Or probably it’s both being there at that particular point in time which made it so special for me.
It’s been a few years to this but, when it rains and when I happen to sit looking at it outside, I just can’t help but think of it and I just can’t help but smile once again.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Games we play
For an avid reader, there is something preternatural about reading an intriguing book at a nice quiet coffee shop. Amongst several such cafes there is this particular one in the city which makes the whole experience worthwhile. The best thing about this particular coffee shop is its location and being located next to the sea front, the evenings there are simply magnificent. The combination of a good book with a pot of freshly brewed coffee, at a place directly overlooking the sea on a bright crisp summer evening, with the sun setting in the backdrop on a fading crimson sky and a cool breeze stroking your face simply perks up the soul and leaves one high-spirited.
The incident that I wish to allude to happened on one of the evenings at the above mentioned place. I was sitting at that very wonderful cafe reading an interesting book. Now usually when I read a nice book I tend to get quite lost in it; and what with a beautiful backdrop and favourable conditions one can’t help but lose track of one’s surroundings. So, lost in wonder I was all of a sudden awakened by the soft rustle of a dress nearby and a whiff of perfume. Looking up I saw a lady pass by, who, taking up a table diagonally opposite me sat by herself without any company. Some faces, though not necessarily beautiful, have something seemingly interesting about them. When one looks at a face like that one simply keeps coming back to it after every short interval.
I therefore kept looking back and forth from my book to that face which somehow seemed to draw my attention without much apparent reason. Funny thing is that even she kept looking at me every now and then- Stealing a glance here and a glance there. We probably had some sort of connect which kept drawing both of us towards each other. There was this strong longing in me which was urging me to walk up to her and ask her name and to talk to her. The fact that even she kept coming back to me with her looks every now and then made it quite apparent about the way she felt.
Despite the strong urge to communicate with her i gave it a pass because i knew for a fact that somehow even if most of us feel that strong connect with someone we still hesitate in communicating, taking our urge to be a passing thing. This certainly isn’t my belief but many times I’ve seen the other person to think on those lines and have always realised that though one feels the connect one is hesitant when it comes to communicating- Some societal or even a personal barrier stopping us from doing what we would really want to do otherwise. Probably it’s our attitude to mark everything that we do as right or wrong which makes us demarcate our actions in one of those categories and thus refrains us from taking even a small step forward. Whatever the reason might be but I on the other hand have always felt that one should take ones chances and fail rather than regretting not doing what one wanted to do. Because otherwise, one simply sits and thinks that why the hell did they not take that leap off the cliff when they should have. And that probably they would drop to the ground like a rock but that is exactly what they wanted to do.... Or who knows as that is exactly when they get the wings to fly away.
The incident that I wish to allude to happened on one of the evenings at the above mentioned place. I was sitting at that very wonderful cafe reading an interesting book. Now usually when I read a nice book I tend to get quite lost in it; and what with a beautiful backdrop and favourable conditions one can’t help but lose track of one’s surroundings. So, lost in wonder I was all of a sudden awakened by the soft rustle of a dress nearby and a whiff of perfume. Looking up I saw a lady pass by, who, taking up a table diagonally opposite me sat by herself without any company. Some faces, though not necessarily beautiful, have something seemingly interesting about them. When one looks at a face like that one simply keeps coming back to it after every short interval.
I therefore kept looking back and forth from my book to that face which somehow seemed to draw my attention without much apparent reason. Funny thing is that even she kept looking at me every now and then- Stealing a glance here and a glance there. We probably had some sort of connect which kept drawing both of us towards each other. There was this strong longing in me which was urging me to walk up to her and ask her name and to talk to her. The fact that even she kept coming back to me with her looks every now and then made it quite apparent about the way she felt.
Despite the strong urge to communicate with her i gave it a pass because i knew for a fact that somehow even if most of us feel that strong connect with someone we still hesitate in communicating, taking our urge to be a passing thing. This certainly isn’t my belief but many times I’ve seen the other person to think on those lines and have always realised that though one feels the connect one is hesitant when it comes to communicating- Some societal or even a personal barrier stopping us from doing what we would really want to do otherwise. Probably it’s our attitude to mark everything that we do as right or wrong which makes us demarcate our actions in one of those categories and thus refrains us from taking even a small step forward. Whatever the reason might be but I on the other hand have always felt that one should take ones chances and fail rather than regretting not doing what one wanted to do. Because otherwise, one simply sits and thinks that why the hell did they not take that leap off the cliff when they should have. And that probably they would drop to the ground like a rock but that is exactly what they wanted to do.... Or who knows as that is exactly when they get the wings to fly away.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Life of a bourgeois
At times I become so weary of a certain situation that irrespective of the outcome I just seem to lose interest in the entire episode. Many a time, in such situations, I’ve felt a voice inside urge me to park on one of the busy corners of the street of life and to get-off, turning my back to everything. Light that one gratifying cigarette, which a person trying to rehabilitate by quitting smoking might light after a period of abstinence, and thus find spellbound by it…. And walk away from everyone and everything. Now that might sound strange but that is exactly why it’s a part of life! So my friends, life is a journey which tosses strange and uncanny situations at us at quite some uneven pace. It is like a jukebox with multiple buttons; and as hard as we might try to push the button that we had always wanted to push, we still might end up listening to some weird music that we disrelish. The funniest part is that in real life too we have to (dis)relish the sojourn at our very own expense, as with the good-old jukebox.
In every real life situation- with the good and the bad part of it- the part which comes after the beautiful vignette, is the part which leads us to the above mentioned situation. Now being human, I can’t but help think like one and since I can’t help but think like one therefore I can’t help but feel the same way, when confronted with a testing scenario. My mind, quite obviously, being made to confront the arduous orientation gives me two scenarios. The first being the tough one, which is standing up to the task at hand howsoever formidable it might seem and the second being easy, which needless to say is the one we had so far been talking about. Candidly speaking, there have also been times when I have taken the latter, mostly out of sheer desperation and timidity. But, to not astray and to say what I actually wanted to say, I shall not digress to the ratio of me being a wuss vis-à-vis not being one.
After the standup being done and with the severity of the situation lashed upon, somewhere in between a point is reached when one gets this strong urge to quit the entire episode and to resign to the probable unpleasantness thus arising from the renunciation. This point or this so called urge that we talk about, is fairly strong. Its strength is derived from a fair bit of disappointment, in the aftermath of lackluster, insipid and uncongenial corollaries.
At this very point I have always come across something which I consider as the balance of nature. I say so because whenever I am in one of these moods, looking around I have happened to chance upon a shabbily dressed old man. A person with dissipated youth; moving about with a pushcart, carrying knick-knacks which probably are his ticket to the days meal. This sight has never once failed to make me wonder about a time in his life, when he would wake up to a days sickness, helplessly thinking what to do about the meal which he might not be able to earn as a result of his malady.
Irrespective of all said and done, I, then hardly fail to see my situation as far better than that of the poor old man…. And that our life is still a cakewalk in comparison with that of a bourgeois.
In every real life situation- with the good and the bad part of it- the part which comes after the beautiful vignette, is the part which leads us to the above mentioned situation. Now being human, I can’t but help think like one and since I can’t help but think like one therefore I can’t help but feel the same way, when confronted with a testing scenario. My mind, quite obviously, being made to confront the arduous orientation gives me two scenarios. The first being the tough one, which is standing up to the task at hand howsoever formidable it might seem and the second being easy, which needless to say is the one we had so far been talking about. Candidly speaking, there have also been times when I have taken the latter, mostly out of sheer desperation and timidity. But, to not astray and to say what I actually wanted to say, I shall not digress to the ratio of me being a wuss vis-à-vis not being one.
After the standup being done and with the severity of the situation lashed upon, somewhere in between a point is reached when one gets this strong urge to quit the entire episode and to resign to the probable unpleasantness thus arising from the renunciation. This point or this so called urge that we talk about, is fairly strong. Its strength is derived from a fair bit of disappointment, in the aftermath of lackluster, insipid and uncongenial corollaries.
At this very point I have always come across something which I consider as the balance of nature. I say so because whenever I am in one of these moods, looking around I have happened to chance upon a shabbily dressed old man. A person with dissipated youth; moving about with a pushcart, carrying knick-knacks which probably are his ticket to the days meal. This sight has never once failed to make me wonder about a time in his life, when he would wake up to a days sickness, helplessly thinking what to do about the meal which he might not be able to earn as a result of his malady.
Irrespective of all said and done, I, then hardly fail to see my situation as far better than that of the poor old man…. And that our life is still a cakewalk in comparison with that of a bourgeois.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)