After the lull -- Or was it a storm!

Life happens -- with all of us. Some people juggle like crazy sorcerers. Really guys, how do you do it? Did Minerva McGonagall give you a time turner too? I go crazy. So the last few months were maddening ! There was office and more office and so much more of office. Leaving home at 8 and coming back at 10 , only to login again had become a daily routine. And then there was ThatElegantChic. You know who she is ..don't you? If you haven't then you must visit her -- here. It is a start up venture that a friend and I have put up with a lot of love and excitement. Of course I am just the writer/editor there and the friend is the real "face" of it -- but I love being a part of it. It has its own perks! and it has it's own work. Although she does the most of it and I cannot take away that credit from her, TEC is one more reason that takes up my time and I don't complain.Going back to office, here is a surprising thing -- I loved what I was doing. I loved getting into issues , developing a complicated logic and getting output out of it. Maybe IT has finally sucked me in. Unfortunately, writing suffered -- to a large large extent. I wanted to quit engineering and become a full time writer. Today  I have quit writing and become a full time Engineer.

And even if I don't know anything in my life, or about my life, I know one thing for sure. I don't want to be "that IT person". The ones that Ambika and I used to talk about -- the ones that are too lost to look beyond their codes , the ones who limit their circle of life in the loop of their ID tags. I remember slightly bloating up with pride when Ambika told me , "You are not like the usual IT guys." Yes I was not , and I hope I am not.

So I know I am not "that" IT person, but what kind of a writer am I? What are the kind of writers? Am I a writer? I mean, I write my heart out and I love to do so. But I am so far away from being good that a look at the long road ahead of me is enough to tire me. And that bogs me down -- sends me reeling far away from my pen and paper.

 I attended the writer's meet up recently when I had a chance. I hated the topic. Pick up a known hero, a known villain , a random genre , throw everything together and make up a story. Please! Somehow, I am not a fan of fan fiction. Anyway. I came up with such a crappy (unfinished) story that I never wanted to go to the meet up again. My hero was Andrei Androfski , Villain was the Joker and the genre was Magical realism. To begin with, I did not have a slightest idea about Andrei Androfski. Anyway -- as I said, I came up with crap. There were others of course who wrote brilliant pieces as usual. Pavan , in particular, like always came up with a fantastic piece and Nitish, the MIT scientist came up with a rap for God's sake. How do these people ace it every single time? Does being a writer means that you come up with awesome stories? Because speaking of stories, I have never come up with an awesome story -- you know , something like, a story on humanizing emotions in your head or the story of a mother and a daughter who are more like friends. I can never even come up with something like a Pakistani girl lost in India or even a story of two vampire brothers in love with the same girl. I suck at stories. 

So that's exactly what I will do. Although my last project of one post every day fell short of ,I guess eight days, I declare a new project -- now that the office project is in production and I have just one unresolved "issue" to deal with.  The blog project will be called the sucky story series. I will come up with stories. I will try to keep them good but mostly I will go with the flow. So they are bound to be sucky and stupid. But for the next 30 days (that's what I will at least try) I will write one story which may be bad, worse or not even reading worthy. But who knows -- in between , I my have a break through , or maybe not -- but at least this blog will spring back to life. The timing is right too. It's the first day of August tomorrow and a Saturday. I am supposed to go to a blogger's meet from Flipkart and IndieBlogger in the first half and meet in a relative in the second. But I will squeeze time for my story. I may not be a super woman but I can do some squeezing of time  -- Let's see what happens next!

Love -- Day 22

A purple night,Moon in sight,
Beneath the sky ,You and I
A wishing star, gazes fixed afar
A love song, that we sing along
the stupid laughter, the silence after
The loving glances, the unending promises
The lips that quvier, the tocuh that shivers
The love that stays, forever and ever

Of Passions and Fathers -- Day 21

This is a video I came across on Youtube. It is a Coke Studio edition and as all with most of the Coke Studio Songs, I don't understand it completely because it is not fully in Hindi. However, the song in a whole is pretty comprehensible.

Now, firstly the emotion of the song is lovely. It is a conversation between a Father and a Daughter where (roughly translated) the daughter says -- "I am your darling girl and I will never leave your side."

Besides listening to the song, here is what I noticed

1) The expressions on the face of Sachin Sanghvi, the guy in spectacles. The little girl is his daughter and he might as well have held up a board saying "I am SO proud of my daughter right now" Look at the smile and the way his eyes sparkle behind those spectacles. They twinkle like the brightest star in the sky. (Also as a totally unrelated side note -- Sachin Sanghvi is quite cute)

2) Rinku Rajput (On the Piano) and other musicians -- Some have their eyes closed , some are looking at the singers and smiling lightly, some are absolutely immersed in the show.

I always find it very fascinating to see someone work on their passion. Most of the time, one does not have to look beyond.

I remember my father's love for Mathematics. I remember how he would not move an inch if his answer would not come correctly (Which was pretty rare). He would sit there calculating, working, muttering to himself, forgetting the world around him. In other cases when I would go to him with a question, he would look at the question, take 2 minutes, stare at me for a second or two and say, "Is the answer, just check?" and 9.5 out of 10 times, it would match to the tee. He would then snigger like a naughty child and ask me for a pen and a paper to elaborate.

There was this one incident, when I asked him to solve a question for me. As far as my memory serves me, I was too tired from school and other activities and I was not able to concentrate when he tried to explain me the solution. He said, "Go to bed. We will do this tomorrow morning." This was all I was waiting to hear and dashed to my room. When I got up in the morning, clumsy that Mr.Tiwari is, I found my books opened and lying strewn on the table. I went to collect them and what I see is this : Besides that one question that I had asked him to do, he had solved the ENTIRE exercise in my notebook. While I stood their flicking through the pages in amazement, he stood behind me, toothbrush in his mouth and still sniggering like a naughty child. "Have fun", he said. "I have solved everything in the exercise with statements. Come to me if you still don't understand something."

I got a bit carried away. I was talking about doing something that does not make you say, "I don't really feel like doing it" and rather makes you say, "Oh well, I am tired but you know what, I really want to do this." Is this a natural feeling or one makes oneself believe it? How does this passion thing work? I am still trying to figure it all out.

On another side note, Last night I had a reading marathon. I finished a book and a half. It had been ages since I read so furiously. I was up till 4 reading and I although am sure my dark circles will put any Panda bear to shame it was fun -- a lot of fun.


See you tomorrow!

Brevity -- Day 20

Chinkie's careless walk in the cool breeze came to a sudden halt as he saw him. She held the packet of bread in her hands with a tight grip. His eyes sparkled in the light. She could sense a smile on his lips.

She tried to move back. But she knew there was no use. He had already seen her.

The dog snatched the packet of bread from her hand and ran away, his tail wagging furiously.

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Sometimes, a peaceful moment is all you ask for. This was such a moment for Vijay. He sat on the floor besides his son Rajneesh and smiled. He had finished everything he was supposed to. He had paid the bills and marked the medicines for his wife. He had fixed the pane of the window that rattled in the night and painted the front gate.

His son,dressed in all white, got up from his place and moved towards the large smiling picture of Vijay. Today it was adorned with flowers and wreath.

Rajneesh picked up his father's body on his shoulders supported by three other men.

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Sanjeev grabbed the knife in his hand and checked the grip and its sharpness. This will not do. He took the next knife with a bigger blade. His next victim was Chunky. He lay on the counter trying to wriggle out but it was too late.

"Sorry Chunky", Said Sanjeev as he brought down the knife to kill him.

"It will be a nice dinner" Thought Sanjeev. "I will never let the kids name the crab again"


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Mona clenched her hands in a fist as the man walked behind the lady. "This cannot be good" she thought. "Some one do something". she whispered.

It was dark and Mona could only see the woman in a red dress walking as fast as could. She was in a hurry, but the woman did not know that she was being stalked. Mona's eyes moved quickly towards the others on the road. For every one else, it was life as usual. The man pulled down his cap to cover his face.

The lady walked inside a narrow lane. In some time the man walked in there too, smiling.

Mona bit her lips and turned the page.


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That unknown favorite -- Day 19

Without further ado, let me make one announcement. I am going to make up for all these lost days. I must have missed around ten days (bad me!) but trust me, this is the most of me, this blog has seen. So honestly, I am not really disappointed with whatever is going on here.

Now recently I realized what a gloomy sad writer I am! Till now I have written about a widow, a girl who gets herself assassinated, a girl who lost a chance at love and a girl who was killed by the ghost of a maid for unknown reasons. Man! I have a dark writing persona.  One day, I will come up with something happy. I am trying !

As of now, I do not have a happy story to share But I do have a happy movie to talk about. Not many of you would know about this movie. But I think I have seen it more times than the film makers themselves. It is called -"Mujhse Fraandship Karoge". That indeed is the spelling of friendship in the movie and honestly the movie is not as shady as it sounds. On the contrary it is one of a few well made movies. 

It does not have very well known actors.  Out of the 4 protagonists, one is Saqib Saleem, who was also in Bombay talkies and Hawa Hawai. The girl Saba Azaad is actually a singer and is currently seen in the Lays Ad . Tara D'souza is the third girl and besides this movie, I have seen her only in Mere brother ki Dulhan. The fourth one is Nishant Dahiya and I have not seen him anywhere besides this movie. What do I like about this movie? It is a no drama, no tears, no complications movie. All the 4 protagonists in this movie are 21 year olds and they behave like them. They are neither too silly nor too mature. They are just that -- balanced 21 year olds.

The story is full of loop holes and before I talk about the loop holes, here is the story. I will try to keep it short. 

There is Vishal -- happy, fun loving  guy who is also a writer. Nice! This is the type of writer I want to see in my social circles. The hilarious one who calls his own songs "pansy" and still write lovely songs. ( Although the real songs of the movie are by the real lyrics writer, but we will go by what has been asked us to believe). There is Preeti who is a photographer and who comes with a past. More about this later. Preeti's roommate is Malvika , the hot girl who again is a genuine person and does not have any airs about being pretty. Lastly, Rahul the rockstar who studies biochemistry in a "khachoo sa college" but is extremely popular among the girls. Also, Vishal and Rahul are best friends,

Here is the network : Preeti has a crush on Rahul and Vishal has a crush on Malvika.  Secondly, Preeti and Vishal are in the same college and they hate each other. 

Now  read this carefully -- Vishal sends a friendship request to Malvika from Rahul's FB account and Preeti accepts it on the behalf of Malvika. So at the back end, Vishal and Preeti are FB chatting non stop and falling in love with each other, while baying for each other's blood in real life. In the meanwhile, Rahul and Malvika have no idea what is going on with their FB accounts behind their backs.

Honestly , the story sounds pretty cheesy but the execution, the dialogues , the performances, songs , the other caste of the movie are all super fun. Prabal Punjabi plays Vishal's other best friend Hacky who is the funniest character and a very good actor. 

The central theme of the movie is this 25 years college event that Preeti and Vishal are working on -- "A photographic documentary on the romantic history of the college" (That's exactly how they say it). So these 2 go from couple to couple clicking pictures and listening to their stories. Soon each one realize that the other is not that bad and start behaving cordially with each other -- actually become friends!

Simultaneously, when Rahul (actually Vishal) makes plans to finally meet Malvika (actually Preeti), to cover their lie, they obviously send the real Rahul and Malvika to meet each other. So now in real life, Rahul and Malvika meet (Phew! I hope I wrote that clearly) and they hit it off famously. Malvika develops a crush on Rahul and he likes her back. However, since she knows Preeti likes him, she does nothing about her feelings. In the scene where Preeti realizes about Malvika's crush for Rahul, she actually laughs about it and is totally cool with it! See! I told you -- No drama. Slowly, Preeti starts getting attracted to Vishal and realizes that Rahul is not as interesting in real life as he seemed earlier (Rahul - Preeti and Vishal - Malvika meet too --I promise, when you see the movie, there is no confusion at all)  

Every truth is revealed in the end and all are happy of course. 

I have already written about how light and fun the movie is. Even the heavy part, where Preeti talks about how she was used by a guy or how her father abandoned the family is very easy flowing.  When Vishal catches Malvika and Rahul kissing, there are tears and raised voices but there was no scuffle and no over the top anything. Next day, Vishal and Rahul talk it out over a coffee. That is why I love this movie.

Now the major loop holes -- I know of no "best friends" who share their FB passwords with each other. I can still assume that Preeti had access to Malvika's facebook because they shared the same laptop, but I cannot digest how Vishal had Rahul's account details. Besides, it is silly that the two never got an idea of what is happening in their accounts because history in FB is very easy to access. 

I forgive the creative liberties of course. 

On another note, the same production brought "Mere Dad ki Maruti" which is again one insane laugh riot. It is incidenatlly the husband's favorite and on a day like today when I will feel like writing something light, I will talk about it.

I will see you tomorrow! (Hopefully)

A crack on the wall --- Day 18

Sakshi: Dude! It’s here again.

Nitika: I am telling you if you scare me like that , I will kill You

Sakshi: Niti I am not kidding … It is here and it is growing.

Nitika Ghansyahm :  Did you see it move?

Sakshi: Yes

Nitika: Tell your parents..

Sakshi: Hmm …

10 mins later

Sakshi : It’s gone

Nitika … It was never there yaa! You are just messing with me.

Sakshi : No! Something here is messing with me. I am telling you it started from that day and it has the same shape.

Nitika : So it was there and it was growing and now it’s not there?

Sakshi: No dude! It’s a blank wall. Like there was no crack ever!

Nitika : Wow! Weird!  Ok stop texting me and try to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow ok?

Sakshi : I cannot sleep here L

Nitika: Sleep in Mom-Dad’s room?

Sakshi: Naah! I’ll keep the lights on. See you tomorrow.

1 Hour later

Sakshi : Niti

Nitika : Why aren't you sleeping?

Sakshi : Someone is in my room.

Nitika: Who? What? What are you saying?

Sakshi:  There is a lady. Her back is towards me. She seems to be going through my bag Niti … do something please!!! Call my dad.

Niti : Oh My God!! Okay Okay don’t worry! Don’t make a sound. I’ll call your Dad.

 Niti: Your Dad should come to your room in no time. Are you okay? Is she still there? Sakshi! Are you ok?

Niti: Sakshi???

Sakshi: It’s her Niti … It’s the maid.

Niti: The one who is in the news??  Sakshi you are messing with me again.

Sakshi: It’s her …

Niti: Where are you? Has your Dad knocked yet?

Sakshi: I am pretending to sleep. But she turned and I saw her …. And I thought our eyes met and she smiled. But that’s not possible. Is it Niti? She cannot see me … I am hiding... She cannot see me. I am scared Niti …why is she here? Where is Dad?

Niti: He’ll be there soon. You keep talking to me. What do you see now?

Sakshi: She is sitting at the foot of my bed. Oh God.. She is crying. Wailing … Oh Goodness this is terrible.

Niti: Damn Sakshi Sethi! I hope you are not trying to give me a heart attack. I’ll call your father again.

Sakshi: Don’t

Niti: Oh good! Has he come?

Sakshi: He did not. He never comes.

Niti: Where is the lady … the maid I mean? Is she gone? Are you fine?

Sakshi: She came to tell me how she died.  

Niti: Sakshi? Are you okay? You are saying she talked to you?

Sakshi: She has come to take me with her … 

Niti: Sakshi What? Sakshi?

< No Answer>

The newspaper headlines

After the mysterious death of a seventeen year old maid in the posh residence of Munniraka,Delhi, the police today found  the dead body of the fifteen year old daughter of the same family. Mr and Mrs Sethi are in a state of shock and unable to give any comments.  There was an unexplained  mark on the forehead of Sakshi Sethi, the deceased, that uncannily resembled the crack on the wall that came up after the maid Shraddha was found hanging on Tuesday evening at Mr and Mrs Sethi’s residence.

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I had tried writing a horror piece earlier, but it was actually a dream. So I had the story in mind and all I had to do was give it a structure. That was easy. This is the first time I have tried to actually write horror. Also, this is kind of an inspired piece. The format is from a random internet site that I came across. I will link it if I ever find it again only because it was a BRILLIANT story ( and it was pretty sophisticated with "the person is typing ..." coming every time and one had to click to read the "reply". ) The content however is just my shitty imagination,  If you got even a tiny bit scared, my job here is done! 

See you tomorrow!

And When You Smile -- Day 17

I  cannot help but stare as I take a sip of whatever it is that I am drinking.  I think my tongue has scalded a bit and at the back of my mind, I register that the drink is slightly sweet. But I hardly care. I am too busy looking at you. People might want to call me a stalker but what do they know? They have no idea about the sinking feeling I get in the pit of my stomach every time I see you. I see you smiling that same smile. It has not changed after all these years. It still reaches your eyes and light them up. I hear you and you still sound the same calm sorted out person whom I would run to for every little thing.

College – those beautiful days, when life was indeed a box of chocolates. You were Naina’s cousin. So we knew each other as long as I can remember. But I don’t remember when we moved on from “my best friend’s cousin to my friend”. Was it that day in the library when I was almost on the verge of tears, because I could not figure out the physics derivation and you helped? Or was it that day when your friends asked me to dance on the canteen table, as a part of a playful ragging dare and you stood there silently looking at me, smiling? I do remember the many moments when we would bump into each other -- Sometimes in the corridors, sometimes in college events and sometimes at your home.  Of course for me it was Naina’s home, which was my almost –second home.

It was always there in your eyes. Every one saw it, even Naina.  How was I to know?  We were poles apart, actually worlds apart. You were every one’s favourite.  And why not? Every guy with a guitar is popular – so were you.  After the event of Udaan 2013, Naina kept teasing me for a whole week. She said you sang Bruno Mars’s ‘just the way you are’ while looking at me the whole time. I wish from the bottom of my heart that I could have seen you, the way you saw me. Friends or not, I loved your eyes. I loved how they would crinkle up in the corner when you smiled. I have a theory and I remember telling you this. A person who has a beautiful smile has a beautiful heart.  I remember you had laughed. 

“So who has the most wonderful smile in our campus” you asked while we were at the college terrace.

“You know the answer” I had rolled my eyes and punched you lightly on your ear.

“Monkey Mukherjee” You said and smiled. Was there sadness in that smile?

“It is Mayank Mukherjee and yes, ten on ten for your answer. He has the most beautiful smile in the whole campus, whole India, whole world, whole …”

You closed my mouth with your palm. “Enough Sharma!”

Oh don’t you know? It was in the papers the other day – Mayank Mukherjee named the most handsome guy in the whole freaking planet”

“Funny!” You said without laughing and started walking away. “Want a lift home?” You called out.

“Yes” I grabbed my bag and ran behind you.

These are the small moments that I remember of you, of us. The day when you acted as the peace messiah between me and Naina when we fought over that black dress or the day when you helped me understand the whole chapter of network theorems.

“I am a lost cause Sameer. I will fail... don’t bother” I was tired, weak and above all hopeless.

“Sharma you are already doing really well! Not much is left...Come on” You had held my head in your hands and smiled – the world’s most beautiful smile. Only I was still oblivious to it.

Naina had claimed that she distinctly remembers how you hated the subject yourself when you were studying it. But you went through it again – just for me.  

I was the silly 20 year old who was following her crush like a little puppy everywhere he went.  Mayank was the heart throb of almost every girl in college. I was one among them. Naina – my strongest pillar tried her best to protect me. But one can only do so much. No matter how much she tried, I was sure that Mayank would one day look at me, at least acknowledge my existence.  It was not long before the universe had granted me my wish, or so I thought.  Oh yes, Mayank and I were in a “relationship” – a secret relationship.

Do you remember that day when we sat at the steps of the old library? It was yet another day when Mayank had refused to talk to me in front of everyone and it was yet another day when you sat there by my side. I wanted to talk to Naina, but you told me she was out with her Dad. I wonder if she asked you to tell me this. I wonder if she knew that you were the right person to be with me that day.

“But I love him!” I had cried like a dejected fifteen year old.

“I thought you guys were going around” You said,

“I thought so too. But I guess he has other plans”  

Something struck me odd. “But when did you ….?”

“I know Sharma  ... I know about you and Mayank. And since the day you have loved him, I have loved you … maybe earlier than that.”  

For my 20 year old heart, Mayank’s hurt was too deep to register your words. Both of us sat there -- two broken hearts, sitting in silence, staring at nothingness.

Today, I laugh when I think about how stupid I was. I might have gained some sense over the years, but I lost you. By the time I would realise that the twinkle in your eye was your love for me, you had moved on – with her. I cannot blame you. I tried hating her but how can I? I see the same twinkle in your eyes today, as we sit across tables.  You do not notice me. You are too busy looking at her, pampering her, smiling at her.

Please don’t get me wrong. My life is good. I have a good job and I did have relationships in my life. But none of them were you. No one called me Sharma; no one sat with me and my best friend to help us decide what to wear, when he had nothing to do with the party. No one listened to my endless banter, nodding at the right places, listening in rapt attention. No one’s eyes twinkled when they saw me. No one ever looked at me across the room and smiled, assuring me that they were there for me.

Your flight is announced and you pick your bag as you get up. She gets up too. You hold hands and I see dark red Henna on her hands.

“Congratulations Sameer” I whisper.

I get back to my drink ...whatever it is. My flight will be announced soon.

 You never saw me. Ten years ago, this fact may not have mattered to me. Today it is enough to blur my vision with a single tear drop.