December is here

The night is dim and the days real

Get on the road pal, December is here!

The month of celebrations,

the month of joy,

Perfect time to step forward, and say

Alvida 2011!  Goodbye!

But some things you must remember,

To drag with you,

Good memories, old friends

And the pending leave still in-lieu

Close your eyes, relax

Have you planed your vacation?

If you haven't yet

Better give your boss, a notification!

All is well that ends well, so

celebrate and move up a notch

Call up your friends and if they are out

Open that 12 years old damn scotch!

Who knows, the world might end in 2012,

Get on the road pals, celebrate this year!

Stay alive until Tsunami is here!

Those were the days

I remember my childhood as seasons passing by. Winter – for hot baths (mostly afternoon baths) and studies; summers – for cricket and field trips; and monsoon - monsoon was my favourite. The scent of earth just before the first shower, bringing a sensational feeling, as if something new and exciting is about to happen. And it did excite me. I switched from one school to another and the monsoon would follow. It was always exciting to make new friends but I was no good with other aspects. Sometimes, I would be punished for calling teachers with wrong name. How was a 5th grade student supposed to know that all Maths teachers are not to be called Miss Jauncy? Especially, when their name begun with Mr.

My stay at boarding school lasted two years. It would have been very short, had I dared to call our six feet history teacher ‘BIGSHOW’ (a nick name given to her). How was a 9th grade student supposed to know that BIGSHOW was a famous WWF wrestler of that time?

Every morning, Mr Bundela, our sports in charge, would make us run five rounds of the campus, followed by fifteen minutes of yoga / relaxing exercise. I and most of my classmates preferred only the first and last round. The others rounds were spent hiding in school building, preferably inside the corner washroom, while other athletes worked on building their stamina. One fine morning Mr Bundela heard his nature call but was shocked to see nature’s harness on over ten students at the same time. The very next day wakeup call shifted from 5:30 a.m. to 5:00 a.m. and number of rounds increased to seven. No one dared to hide that day, but only half the class stood up after yoga practice. (Last aasan performed was Shavasana)

Don’t get me wrong, I love cows and would bring no personal harm to them. But, I’ve enjoyed riding carts as much as riding a boat. The only villager quality, I would readily admit. We would hop on and hop off every bullock cart on our way back from school. Sometimes, the rider would use his riding stick to throw us off his fully loaded vehicle. During picnics to farm house, uncle would make us sit on cows and buffaloes but never bulls (bulls can get really angry), while they rested on pile of hay. Our twenty-thirty kilos of weight always went unnoticed.

We had several dogs at farmhouse that I feared the most. So, I was introduced to little monkey named Chameli. I had no intension to ride her, but when I asked her for a hand shake (which is very common form on introduction with dogs), she took it by surprise and smacked me. I started crying and decided not to go near her. I slept under the shade of a giant tree and instead became friends with dogs using the same handshake trick. In search of vengeance, I ate the whole banana myself in-front of Chameli, depriving her of afternoon snack.

Unplanned rides

Once every month or so, I like to go for unplanned bus rides. I just carry a book in my hand and walk away. To where, I don’t care and decide only when I reach a bus stop.

I've always enjoyed travelling in buses. My only criteria are window seat, where I can put my elbow outside and feel the air. Earlier, I used to go to school in a matador, which had a very few windows. I never got a chance to sit on my favourite seat. So, when the matador was replaced by a bigger bus, my father agreed to pay the increased fare only if I was given a window seat.

I remember my first unplanned bus ride in Mumbai. I was listening to music, and was so lost in thoughts that I travelled all the way until the conductor demanded everyone to get down at the “last stop”! I never paid for the extra distance.

Once, my flatmate, Badal, as lazy he is, slept in a local train on his way back home and crossed three extra stations. Hurryingly, he got down on the next station to catch a train back home. After some forty odd minutes, he opened his eyes realizing that he has again fallen asleep and missed his station. Finally settling on a train completely packed, which had no room for his eyes to relax, he reached home. He as well, never paid for the extra distance.

My unplanned trip would start with, looking for an empty bus, on which I see chances to secure a window seat. The destination or the route didn't matter. For the first few times, it would upset me when bus conductor demanded a destination but later I discovered the best way to avoid such awkwardness is to ask for a ticket to “last stop”.

Through these unplanned trips, I’ve seen most of Mumbai. From the most beautiful, to the ugliest part of it; the most expensive, to the cheapest part of it; the red light areas, to the sacred temples; dirtiest slums to the most sophisticated bungalows; rocky mountains to the sandy beaches. Some of the places I remember, some I don’t. Although, with time I've started to recognize places. I remember going to Borivali, the other day to Bandra, to Marnie Drive, to New Bombay, to Goregaon. It’s true that each place seems like a complete different city in itself. But all these places have one thing in common, the rush! It flows through every boulevard of Mumbai, I suppose.

On my last unplanned ride, to Versova beach, I ended up riding a horse named “Badal”. Having heard the local train experience of my flatmate, I only wished for the horse to stay awake during the ride. Horses can sleep while standing, you see.

Mysterious Life

Mysterious life,

Let me close my eyes again,

For long I've travelled,

For the places I remember,

Mysterious life,

Make me young again,

For the years I’ve spent,

And the childhood that has drained,

Mysterious life,

Let me fall in love again

With people I’ve met,

And the friends I’ve made,

Mysterious life,

Let me feel those sparks again,

For once,

Let me see your face again

Sometimes at night by my window,

I find it snow,

I hear an owl hooting,

and see a star shooting,

I make a wish and find myself abliss, then suddenly I'm ashore,

I'm called afar by a lore,

I don't know if I should respond,

I feel like a bond,

It's call from the wind,

and it awakes my inner child,

I want to answer that call,

but, I'm afraid of the fall,

A fall from the present life,

that will take me to a strife,

a strife from this birth,

but is it worth?

~p.a.

kneel and disconnected

He came like a light into her eyes

Blinding her with his thousand lies

Anesthetized by his sound

She could only feel him around

Like the music, he captured her mood

Often confusing,

with emotions she barely understood

When she needed him to stay

He quietly drifted far away

Slowly and slowly, he faded

Leaving her,

kneel and disconnected

He

In the lap of inner Himalaya,

The wild forest covered with snow,

A single wrong step,

He goes down with the flow,

Inside he’s sweating,

Outside numb with cold,

Breathing gets difficult,

Every step turns bold,

But this wilderness of the journey,

Spells such magic upon him,

Risk is now a part of his life,

And Everest desirable dream,

The summit, unimaginable once,

Slowly turns into an achievable goal,

His body full of pain,

But his mind well connects to the soul,

Far from this materialist world,

Away from the seductive charm,

He experience silence and serenity,

Careless of the dawn.

- Dedicated to a friend, who fulfilled his promise of being a guide on a himalayan trek!

Amritsar

Golden temple is so beautiful that every new picture makes you want click another. There will always be something missing in the picture which your eyes wont agree to and to be in presence of such beautiful holy place is totally an extraordinary feeling.

Amritsar, is a packed city where rickshaw pullers are still preferred over taxis. Traffic is low, but jams are usual. People are loud, rude but equally joyful & friendly. The rickshaw puller, an old man, gave us handful tips on city, on our way to hotel. I still cannot figure out the presence of truck in a boulevard where even Maruti-800 is difficult to drive. The road was jammed because it was faced by a Mercedes in the opposite direction. It was amusing to see the rich man guiding the truck driver to make a way out. I wonder if the rich man had been a truck driver. While looking for shoe shop, an uncle walked us 200 mts to make sure we don't miss the correct turn, although the suggested shop was found closed, is a different matter of fact.

Every one out of five men wears pagdi, preferably dark colored, but inside temple saffron is the most common choice. Men are tall with strong build, specially the one who wears pagdi, with beard & mustache as most common look. Where as women are tall, thin with long hair (tied together by two ponytails) and always found bargaining with the shopkeepers.

People respond mostly in local language. Sometimes when we would try to talk in Hindi, they would nod their head but speak only in Punjabi. On our way to Waga border (which was another great experience), the drive kept talking about the city and its people, we couldn't understand a word, and the only response he got from us was 'ohh achcha?' followed by confused look on our faces.

Food here is extraordinarily delicious and cheap. People here like to have heavy meal during all the courses. We had Alu de parothe with Amrisari chai at breakfast. During lunch we had famous Amritsari khulchas loaded with Alu and Gobi at 'Kushwant Singh Kulchewala' just for Rs. 17each, followed by dinner at 'Brothers Dhaba', No. 1 in Amritsar as they claim. At both places we couldn't resist ourselves from overeating. I’m sure my tailor would be benefited by this trip.

Being a northern city of India, temperature here falls to near-zero. During our visit in December, the sun would set around 6pm and it would be absolutely cold and dark by seven. At night, shopkeepers would leave their shop and gather at the bonfire created on street.
Market usually closes by 7:30pm except the milkwala shop remains open till late night. People here loves to drink milk as much they love whiskey, which is made thick (by overheating) and served in a full large glass, with a layer of cream on top. Gajar ka halwa is another favorite choice.

Amritsar is not a city to pass by. It is a city where one should stay, for not just a day, but for at-least a week to observe and learn. It is a city where people wake up for morning prayers, where people stand in line at Golden temple everyday, work hard and gather for functions and bonfire during night. It is a place where people find pride in themselves and still manage to crack jokes on each other. Amritsar is indeed heart of Punjab.

When i get older

Close your eyes, for just once and

Imagine that you are sixty four

A table and chair arranged for you

Near the lake, on a beautiful shore

The sun set view from your garden

Leaving behind an amazing afterglow,

Books kept in an orderly manner

Plants covered with a layer of snow

A perfect evening, as you can imagine

With the company of woman you love

Mug of hot coffee and cookies

Just waiting to be served

The breeze makes you feel cold,

The page turns to your favorite chapter

A glass of wine on the side table

While the radio plays an old memorable number

Your friends just arrived at the doorstep,

Looking all ugly and funnier

Everyone sipping wine in the moonlight

As the night turns colder

This is how I want life to be,

When I get older

Peace of mind,

summer rain,

Surrounded by nature

Travelling the road of my dreams,

on the way getting happier

and

older

The unforgettable journey

I placed my bag under the seat and despite of being sure to fall asleep, I took out the novel and iPod to keep myself occupied. The lights went off soon, and thoughts started flooding my mind.

I positioned myself comfortably and opened the bookmarked page of the book. Soon I was lost in the story. The air conditioned compartment was getting colder. I fell asleep with in no time.

I woke up listening to voice of 6 year old boy. He was trying to perform the gymnastic act of climbing the middle birth from the lower birth. He pulled my pillow and quickly shifted to blanket for support when it slipped from his tiny fingers. I could see him crushing his teeth while pulling himself up.

“Would you mind shifting to the upper birth?” His dad suggested. I quickly checked time on my cell phone. It was 8a.m. The whole damn family was awake and wanted to sit comfortably on the lower birth. I had no option but to move.

I shifted to the upper birth, preparing to sleep again. But, my eyes caught glimpse of an attractive face on the opposite berth. She was blissfully asleep. Her face had this mischievous glow as if she has been tired after being active all day long doing her mischievous acts. I started staring at her.

Her long silk-like hair, all over her face; her thick eye lashes – deep black reflecting white glow just like a star shining in darkness; part of her face covered under the blanket and other half revealing her perfectly shaped lips; chunks of hair spread carelessly on her body like a sand portray spread on a beach. I stared at her perfect body. She looked lovely. For that moment, I wished to just watch her sleeping. Forever.

I finally woke up at 10:30am, I had fallen asleep, dreaming about home, Mumbai, work, friends with fractions of her presence in every part. I slowly turned my eyes on her side. She was absent. My heart started beating with the thought that she was gone. I gave myself some more time and climbed down to put my shoes on. As I walked forward, I saw her coming back. She still looked no less than perfect. Her strange eyes looked at me for a very short moment and turned away. My eyes seemed easy on her, as if I had known her since a long time. She climbed back to her seat on the upper birth, just beside mine.

I went out to stand at the door. The scenery seemed familiar. The train was about to reach Timarni, the town where I spent 15 years of my life. Although my destination was still 4 hours away, I got down when train stopped to have a quick look at the place I loved the most, even more than Mumbai. Everything looked just the same. I climbed back before the signal went green.

She was reading a book by Paolo Coelho. I should talk to her; thoughts started popping in my head. I wanted to talk to her; wanted to know her, but more than anything I wanted to look at her. I opened the book to divert myself but couldn’t focus. I turned around to put weight on my chest and put my face on my palm, facing her. She turned her eyes towards me and smiled. My heart started beating faster. I quickly closed my eyes to avoid the eye contact. Turning my head away, I started listening to the music. I blamed myself for not responding to her smile and shut my eyes tightly to force into sleep again.

After a while I heard the same voice which woke me this morning. I looked at him with half my eyes open, the kid had climbed to sit beside her. He troubled her, with his silly questions but his voice had innocent expression. “What’s your good name?” She asked him in a musical voice. “Rohan!” he responded quickly followed by “My name is Rohan, My fathers name is mohan. My mothers name is Sangeeta” Giving details about his family and finished with “I study at Carment high school, Indore”

“Very good Rohan” She encouraged him.

Soon after when they finished their discussion, the kid started firing his questions at me. He wanted to know everything. My name; my father’s name; where I was heading to; about my school. She looked at me and giggled. I smiled back.

The kid got down and started yelling her name when she stopped him from asking questions.

”R pagal hai” R is mad. ”R pagal hai” R is mad. ”R pagal hai” R is mad.

“I am sure everyone in this train will know your name by the end of this journey”, I said to her when she looked towards me.

“You are lucky that your name is a bit difficult to pronounce, I m sure it’s you who he wanted to target”, she responded.

“hehhe..” I laughed… “I think you are right!” I continued the conversation. “So you are R!”

“Yeah! And you are ummm…” She tried guessing.

“It’s Suyash, come on it’s not that difficult to pronounce”

“Well it’s a nice name”, she decleared.

“Thanks, yours is very common though”, I said in a mischievous way. “But you see, it helps, as there might be many R(s) in this train and no one would figure out exactly which R, Rohan is pointing to”

She took few seconds, “How rude, Anyways I’ll take it as a joke” she answered quickly.

“How long will it take to reach Bhopal?”

I looked at the time and said “Should take another 2-3 hours”

“Oh! That long?” She asked in a hurry.

“Yeah, I don’t want to disappoint you but it may get delayed if any express train is coming this way. They will let it pass first. That’s what they do, you know, make the slow train even slower” I explained. 

“Yeah may be you are right, but I want to reach Bhopal as soon as possible” She said excitedly.

“What’s the hurry?” I asked.

“I am going to meet my cousins after a very long time. We used to have lot of fun when I was in Bhopal” She replied.

“Ohh…Nice!” I said after a pause. “What do you do? “ I quickly asked back.

“I am working for a software company in Mumbai and you?”

“I work for a finance company based in Thane”

“Okay, so how is everything?” she kept quite and waited for my response.

“Well life is good, but things are very hectic at work. Crazy life! Weekends are fun though! What about you?”

“Well I am on bench from last few months, just holding up” She answered disappointedly.

“hmm…Where do you stay in Mumbai?”

“Kandivali” She responded, “You?”

“Thane, HN, You know, I am loving it there. The apartment is huge and affordable. No furniture. No TV and it’s on 17^th floor.”

“How is Kandivali like?” I later realized that it was made up answer followed by a stupid question.

“Its good ya!” She looked at the time after every short interval.

We kept talking for a while, with silent invervals to fill the conversation.

I tried to glance outside but the window was blocked by curtains. I noticed the time and said,” We have some more time to kill. Achcha, do you have a pen?”

“What, did you ask for pen?” She looked puzzled.

“Yeah!”

She checked her bag and passed the pen to me. I started scrubbing something in my book, but instantly changed my mind knowing that she was looking over and returned her pen by adding silent Thanks.

We talked for some more time. She was from a small place “Khurai” and had studied in Kota. She did her graduation in computer science from Bhopal, where through her placements she ended up in Mumbai.

I told her about my life, avoiding the Kota part and that I got through IIT to not make her feel bad. I only told her that I too was from a very small town. Just like her.

We went to stand near the door when the destination was near. I helped her carry her bag to the door. We stood there silent for sometime, staring out. I told her about how much I loved Bombay. She just kept quite, smiling in between to hint me that she was listening.

After a while silence filled the air. The train had stopped abruptly. Her eyes looked puzzled. I stared at her. Just like when I saw her for the first time. She looked beautiful.

“You like reading?” I asked her with my heartbeat double the rate.

“Yeah”

“I want you to have this” I offered her the book I had in my hand. She smiled again with a hint of blush on her lips.

“Are you sure? You haven’t finished it yet” She replied.

“I have read it many times” I exaggerated. “It’s a great book. You will really enjoy reading it” I continued.

“Actually, I made my mind the very first time we spoke, to gift you this book. That’s why I asked you for a pen, to write a note for you” I finished with my heartbeat trice the rate.

”Ahh! I see. Okay!” She opened her bag and offered me to leave a note for her.

“When is your birthday?” I quickly asked.

“14^th May”

I wrote a note on her book:

To R,

Many Happy Returns of the Day!

Suyash (from the train)

I couldn’t write what I had in mind and I knew I was going to regret this. I gave her the book. She smiled and thanked me again.

The destination was near. She seemed happy and I could only wish for an express to delay this train. Like every perfect story, I wanted to keep in touch with her. But I didn’t have courage to ask her phone number. NO. You already gave her a gift. It wouldn’t be nice. Thoughts kept flushing my every attempt to dare. She must be on Orkut or Facebook. Finally compromising, I asked her if she comes online.

She instead asked me my phone number and said, “I keep in touch with friends through phone” and asked me to save her number. I was on seventh heaven. My friends would be so jealous.

Finally the train stopped and we got down. I purchased chocolates for my cousins at the station and offered her one. She mysteriously took and said, “You can get me more chocolates when we meet next time”.

“When is your birthday?” I asked.

“14^th May”

“Yeah! 14^th May, okay I will wish you” I said with a smile on my face and saved it on my phone as a reminder.

“When you your’s?” She asked.

“4^th of July”

“I will wish you too” She nodded and left.

I stood at the station for a while and moved on.

To mumma with love

Someday we will be together, mumma
Someday we will,

As time is just a test
Time is just to kill.

I have memories of our time together
I remember my first words to you,

I've known the sacrifices you made
I remember every time you'd say, "I love you".

Though we've been apart since a long time
but all ups and down in my life you've known,

I'm now a completely changed boy
but your love for me has only grown.

The secrets that you've buried in your eyes,
And the promises that you have fulfilled,

I wonder if I can ever be so strong like you mumma
I wonder, in returning back if I'll ever succeed.

No one foresees the future
Neither one can touch the past,

But this very moment I can only promise mumma,
That our love will forever last.

My friend's wedding

Magnificent was the day,

Magical was the time,

Beautiful she looked,

Beautiful was her smile,

Her gaze shy and simple

She looked perfectly like an angel,

With ocean of secrets in her eyes

A bit of happiness in her cry,

With little steps she walked,

A very few words she would talk

And her laugh in its giggling form

Presence of her charm all around

Of all the days I've known

She's never been more happier,

It was, my friend's wedding day

Warm wishes to Neha and Ashish, today and forever

The Pani Puri Seller

The mall was crowded with people. Just at the entry gate was a bus stop where people waited for public transport. Inside in the coffee house were coffee lovers, friends, lovers and family; beside which was famous cigarette shop of the mall, where bunch of college students puffed expensive brands. At Adlabs counter, people stood in line to purchase movie tickets. Watchman at the door looked tired by his tedious job of opening and closing the glass door, his colleague checked belongings so carelessly that one could easily sneak-in even with weapons in his bag.
The fancy restaurant on the first floor had bluish glow. Intoxicated fumes mixed with smoke and alcohol completely filled its space, and people appeared as shadows in the background. Everyone talking at peak of their voice. Absolute chaos!
I quickly came out of the restaurant. But it disordered the peace of my mind. I was terribly hungry, I hadn’t eaten since morning. My eyes began searching and my stomach began screaming for food. The signboard arrow pointed towards 2nd floor “The Food Court”. I just cannot control hunger. But more than I was hungry, I felt suffocated, so I climbed downstairs as my lungs demanded urgent need for fresh air.
I walked out of campus and started breathing heavily. It was 8pm and it was Malik’s birthday. Here I was waiting for my lazy friends, who still hadn’t left. “Will have to wait for another 40 minutes”, I told myself looking at the traffic conditions.
Light filled every corner of campus, inside and outside, to attract crowd. The font of advertisement on the hoardings were huge including the ones for movies. All these attractions made the mall noticeable from miles away.
People inside the campus looked slow and satisfied, where as just outside the wall people rushed towards bus, rickshaw and some waited to cross the street. I felt low but kept looking around and walked towards the Samosa shop outside the mall where group of people in their 40s sipped tea and smoked cigarette. Beside the samosa shop, I noticed an old man selling paani puri in “candle light” dark. He looked weak and poor. It always makes me feel sad when I look at people in their old age struggling to earn money, when there is no surety of anything. He stared at me for a while and asked me if I wanted to eat paani puri. I changed my mind and walked towards him.
Quickly he picked one steel plate from the pile and rubbed it with cloth, although it looked unclean as it was. I asked him to avoid onion in the masala, but the poor man hadn’t prepared any. Other paani puri shops nearby had tube light, masala and more over customers.
“It’s totally okay bhaiya”, I tried to make him feel that it didn’t mattered to me, “just don’t make it too spicy.” He smiled back, took one puri, dipped it in a small chatni pot followed by large paani pot and offered me. Chatni and Paani flowed through his hands and drops splashed on his preparation table, which looked very unhygienic. As I finished eating, he asked me if the paani puri was good, and repeatedly asked the same question 5 more times after each of the remaining 5 puris. I remember a curious look on his face which would turn into smile every time when he heard, “Its perfect!” After eating all 6 puris, I offered him 10 bucks and requested him to keep the change.
“You are the best customer Sir. Let me offer you one more puri,” he insisted and made me one more puri with entire honesty. It reminded me of the birthday party that I was going to attend. More than I felt pity for the old man, I felt guilty inside for uselessly wasting money on such parties.
I took 100 rupee note from my pocket and asked him for change. I saw him checking his pocket, then running from shop to shop asking for change. I silently left the place with prayers in my mind.

It was early morning 6am. On my way back to apartment from IIT, I got down at R-Mall with two heavy bags in my hand, guitar at my back and radio plugged in. The air was cool, Sky clear, buses empty and traffic as low as I have ever seen on this road.

As I walked on the road, my eyes caught glimpse of sun between the buildings. The radio played "Teri Deewani-Kailash Kher" one of my favourite song. After moving few steps further, I walked back, put my bags on the footpath and stared at the sun. It appeared like a huge orange paint ball. The music filled my mood. And I told myself, "Wow! This is magnificent!"

Green Shades

I believe, life has always been fair to us. It gives us everything we ask for. Though we may not be pleased with each of the gift offered, but it brings us best to make us what we are and what we wish to be. The choice is totally ours!
Most of us fall into the process of experiencing first and learning as the journey progress. And this experience brings in us confidence and ability to face the unknown-unexpected path.
To me, life is all about learning and capturing memories from these artless experiences.
Green Shades is nothing but a means to share and recreate these memories.