Someone you should know who knows you back

Someone

-To amplify the little bit of magic hidden in the monotony of our unending existence. To save the remote parts of us and repair the damage caused by this forever shinning sun over our heads. To give us our dark cloud and rainbow and rain. To be an umbrella for all those dreams and desires we are so ashamed to let out in open. Someone who’d bring to life the dollhouse sitting at the attic under those trophies and futile validation. Just how often do we bring our inner selves on a table, opposite to our outer selves and think about this one person who knows them both.

New year, new people, new Hope

The Hidden fort city of Madhya Pradesh [Awe-inspiring ORCHHA]

Do you see the sun? It almost killed me

Grilled and ready to be served- we were like mobile meat walking at 118°F under the brutal heat, zombified and mutated by the royal sun. I am starting this article with an introduction to ORCHHA’S weather because it wasn’t pleasant in the month of September, and because weather is a matter of utmost importance while traveling anywhere in India. [Best time to visit ORCHHA, heads down- November to March]

Progress of My People

Every morning at 9AM, you can find me walking down, to the bleakness of Delhi’s undeveloped, yet surprisingly cultured alleys. We all live here in peace, except in the night when illegal construction kicks-in and plays a cacophony so surreal, that all my fragmentary dreams are lost somewhere in transit. While I walk to the nearby station for precisely 11 minutes (every dayx2), there are some peculiarities on the way, that have managed to slither into my head. I notice these details every day without fail, almost involuntarily.

 [The two huge foul-smelling dumpsters donning some fresh household dump, building a slag heap of buzzing flies; A few ancient ruins undergoing some unending construction; A very dirty “Tent-hi-Tent (wala)” tent on rent shop; A betel leaf spitting women in her mid-forties opening the shutter of her puny garment store; A vegetable vendor, thin guy with deep digging dimples; And an old beggar lady who sits near the train station making a face, so darn hard to interpret]

It’s been 9 months since I started taking the back road for walking purposes (and saved some solid cash) and only recently with the winter chill, did I discern the “Progress” in the daily lives of my people.

The dumpsters have gotten themselves sweet green covers *standing ovation to Delhi government* and the flies have no place to sit.  The construction site looks like a brand new ready-to-move apartments, done with proficient designs and finished with a huge door cum metallic mirror (for me) to look at. The “Tent-hi-Tent (wala)” tent on rent shop has polished up pretty well -you know with new white wall care putty. The betel leaf spitting woman was seen opening the shutter of this jewelry shop adjacent to hers, looks like she bought it (she’s keeping blankets and pillows there-I think I’m going to stopover and buy some). The vegetable vendor moved to a shop too, he looked bright and cozy (yayy) and last but not the least, the beggar lady has passed the reigns to her daughter who sits on her spot now(they look awfully similar, Ah. The killer expression, but I do hope the lady’s doing just fine)   

As for me, in contrary to all the progress, I resigned from my job, seeking more observations & coping with various afflictions.

She was a Frail little fool

And every time the damned weather played,

It plucked a scarlet fibre from her pallid frame.

Her eyes would sink deep into her puny cheeks,

And her limpid palms would lose some fine lines,

But, like she always believed,

  -the more you desiccate, more visible you were to the world.

 

 

W I R E D – A story of change

When did it become all about complexity- when did this happen and how did I miss it ? Just a few fluttering moments back, you were right here, snuggled between my fingers( all ten of them), sipping that not-so-black tea and catching the drops as they dripped from the cracked corners of my orange earthen cup you so dearly loved. When was it that white wasn’t good enough anymore? The lust for twisted,wired and devious- when did it slither in your skin and changed your golden olive color ?

Leave ? Or should I wait, wait and save you from this earthly debauchery? Untie the loops of lament, leeching your lacerating heart, cause I can pour you some (hot) not-so-black tea in my orange earthen cup again, and sit by the patio, waiting for your return.

……
Picture-in memory of Oscar, our breakfast companion from France, we met in Mcleodganj.

Words-just an attempt to understand the blanks.

DISORDER -Old Delhi

A sudden jolt of terror,
gazing at a ghoul standing by.

Lashing a dialogue, bitter for my soul
and a scenery toxic to my eye.

A canvas of corpses burying on a trolley
and no one to answer my Why.

Between you and me

And when you breath(if you)

they tamper with your soul,

slither in your creed- like a nemesis burning your margins.

Shunning your parish, you groan-

gospels in his teeth.

Craving to bleed. 

This is how it went when a girl was “checking me out” in a Subway sandwich stand

Check this out- Check that out- Check her out- 😐 I don’t think am doing it right.

You know how you need the right amount of ultra-cool cells in your blood to pull something really cool off *of course you know, whom am I kidding :P*- yes there’s a thing about western phrases and how miserably we *sometimes* fail to emit them. But I’ll still stick to the title because it was special and it went exactly like this:

It was 10 minutes past 9, when I first noticed her standing beside me being totally indecisive over the type of bread she wanted to wrap around her ham sub. I saw her looking at me once, then twice and many times after that – so, in the binge of excitement I focused at this short, pixie haired creature, wearing brown hand spun Khadi pants and donning a pair of rickety moccasins. In less than 7 seconds I revised my attention back to my sandwich- Oregano-No capsicum-Mustard red chili-Double cheese I said.

Sitting at the cynical corner with my new flat-mate, I was observing my subject of interest from a distance. She turned and looked again- *what is she looking* and yelped NO CAPSICUM. It hit me like a blow of hysteria- She was funny and witty and intelligent, I thought, and I instantly smiled back at her 🙂

By now, I was done with my forlorn sub sandwich and we were preparing to step out.  I saw her again sitting behind us *the whole communism character discussion got me too involved to notice* and the moment I turned, she blurted out an awkward “Hi” to which I skillfully smiled.

I bought a JHUMPA LAHIRI’s, Interpreter of Maladies that day from a book stall outside and took an auto back home.

*This happened Thursday, the 27th and its been 3 days since I caught myself thinking about the pixie head(an inquisitive one i hope). Although in the middle of evaluating the reality of my situation, I was pretty sure writing about it will bring me some solace*