Love Story !??????

Monday mornings are always the same. The weekend spirit being reluctant to leave, she always oversleeps and misses her usual bus. This Monday was no different. The next bus being a comfortable 15 minutes later, she went around humming a catchy tune from the lastest flick, much to the chagrin of her still-lost-in- neverland roomie. Taking care to dress presentably is always fun. She stepped out with a cheerful smile to the landlady, the sun shining as though party to her buoyant mood.

She had to cross to get to the bus stop. She didn’t mind the waiting for the little green man to shine on the traffic signal. It gave her time to look around, and take in the pleasant breeze and the colorful buzzling crowd around her. “This lady looks friendly” , she said to herself as she gazed at woman hailing an auto rickshaw. “And that little fellow with her looks so naughty and cute!!”, she smiled indulgently at the toddler tagging along with the ‘friendly lady’. Her attention swayed over to the opposite side , where a sizeable crowd had gathered to cross the road. One particular face struck her as uncannily familiar.
She tried to recollect.. Was he from school? Were they at college together? Had they met in office? She remembered seeing him at close quarters. Just as she was lost in thought, , she caught herself staring at him, and worse still, this Mr.X was also staring back with avid interest. Instinctively her eyes lowered to her sandals. Something about her sandals inspired the realization. Damn it, man… This was the same guy they had seen in the restaurant. She and her friends had the time of their lives making fun of him. They had been to this South Indian Restaurant that weekend after a movie. It was rush hour, and they had to wait till eternity, or go upstairs. They generally avoided the tables upstairs,because of the dense seating. But, this time they had no chocie. She and her friends went and sat in a corner of the room. Once they had placed their orders, they realised their mistake. Famished as they were, still their appetitites were no match to the amount of food the restaurant provided. While they were struggling through their meal, a couple of guys in the next table, were cruising through a multiple course lunch, ordering almost everything on the menu card. One of them, stopped eating , awestruck by the guys remarkable ability to stuff themselves. She found the situation really funny. Whenever provoked suitably, she can come up with an avalanche of PJs.. And when a few girls giggle (few = any aribitrary number greater than 1), all hell can break loose.The oldest in her group, assuming a matronly role, tried to shush them up, fearing an embarassing situation. Intoxicated with the mirth of the moment, she had defended “ Relax yaar,those guys don’t know us, we don’t know them.. Once we leave the restaurant, we ll be perfect strangers.. Lets have some fun at their expense”….

What a premature statement that was! There he was, the same guy who had worn bathroom chappals to lunch, and gorged the entire kitchen off. She immediately looked at his feet. Thank God!, he was wearing formal shoes. He must ve slept late that day, and must ve woken up directly for lunch, without bothering to dress up for the occassion. How come all that didn’t occur to her pea brain when she went on making up all possible reasons for his bathroom chappals?

Now here he was, staring at her. She tried to keep her face as expressionless as possible. "Chill girl, he’s gonna cross the road any moment now, you can mingle with crowd and be gone. And we’d be perfect starngers again!". She looked at the timer .. 129 seconds .

"Come on comeon.. just keep your cool and it will all be over." She mustered up courage and looked at him. He was looking away.. Good.. She heaved a miniscule sigh of momentary relief. The timer read 93 seconds.

She kept looking at him, trying to detect even the faintest signs of recognition in him. Hope he didn’t recollect her face. She was in sporty attire the other day, and now she was in a formal salwar suit. She really wished clothes made a difference.A real big one at that. He looked at her. "Stay Cool. Act Casual". She pushed back a strand of hair that the breeze had blown away. She no longer had the inclination to enjoy the till-then-pleasant morning weather. A crimson 80 blinked at her from the timer.Time can come to stand still, if it chooses to. Weary from the effort to stay calm, she had entered into a stupor. Dimly aware of herself, she returned his gaze more out of duty, than anything else. 48 seconds to go. “You can make it, jus keep going gal” .. She was great at pep talks, but somehow to her, this one sounded feeble. Any moment now, they ll cross each other, and the fatal flash of recongnition can strike. She began to move. He was still standing. She had taken the plunge. He also began walking.They were a couple of yards away from each other. She met his eyes. There was no indication of recognition, no cinematic recollection. Her lips curled in an imperceptable smile. Of Triumph, relief, and joy.He also smiled. She convinced herself, it must have been directed at someone else on the other side of the road.
She could see he was working for a software company and a couple of his collegues were waiting for the bus on the opposite side. She walked on. She could imagine his eyes boring through her back. She wanted to turn back and check on him. But was too scared to push her luck any further. She looked up at the heavens and thought to herself , “If God ever existed he must be absolutely elfish!”.


Disclaimer :

In acceptance of the bait thrown by catch 22, the above work of fiction* came up.
* The sequel is as fictitious as its predecessor, not more, not less.

Safety

I have this irrational fear of dogs. Something which dates back to the day I was a single cell old. Back in good old Chennai, I used to meticulously skirt past the scrawny, beleaguered, perennially thirsty low-breeds, that would rampage the empty streets of a sleepy Chennai, cursing passionately the way too early timings(by my terms, of course) of the college bus. Some of them got so used (/bored with) to my chastisement that they magnanimously chose to leave me alone to mind my own business. My woes didnt disappear altogether. The pampered poodles peeping out of their kennels in the neighboring bungalows, got an inane kick out of barking out of the blue and sending me racing from their gates… Didnt fail to give me a taste of ragging even in my final year of college..

Now in Bangalore, I stay in an area so infamous for its teeming canine community matched in numbers only by the IT professionals who reside here. The road I stay in is in no way less in stature than my area in Chennai, when it comes to the snob squad. An absolutely silly looking long bodied duo, along with a dumb bully as big as a calf, and an obnoxious sadistic spoilt brat, democratically take turns in harassing the scared-of-dogs, over worked, and pre-occupied passersby. But its not just these guys who rob me of my peace, because I know they are there, and they will scare me day in and day out. There exists a rowdy gang of street dogs, thriving on the scraps from the multitude of “juice junctions” and “bakeries”. And its this cotorie that I lose my sleep over. Polar opposites of their Chennai cousins, these dudes and dudettes are well built and sturdy. They amble around with an air, stirring fear in the depths of my heart. All of a sudden, from nowhere, one of them picks up a fight and there is pure, unadulterated commotion in the pack, and I either stay put, paralyzed by fear or try something stupid in an urge to flee. Thus is my lot, every time I venture out alone on the streets.

Today was exceptional. I woke up early, smartly got ready ahead of my usual time to work, and was tempted to take the early morning bus. I made it to the bus stop without much ado, but it is here that the catch lays. The number of people in the stop, would be few, and scattered. The Ruffians arrived in full style, parading their silken coats to their dames.. Fear of the mortal kind, started to grip me. Carrying more bags than I could manage, the realization that an attempt to flee was ruled out, was more than painful. Despite the chill, sweat began to pour down my face. Though my hands were full, I was desperately searching for my nails, biting them had always calmed my nerves. Praying fervently for heaven’s grace, I was edging towards the nearest human, as surreptitiously as I could, with all my bulk.

“Bark!”, “Wham”, “Howl!!”… The much anticipated pandemonium broke out. I almost saw doom leering around the corner, when my knight in white armour came by. The office bus swished past the warring factions and stopped in front of me. Pushing people around, (although, there weren’t any people to push around) I scrambled on to the bus..

Setting my many bags in an intricate fashion adhering to the tenets of feng shui, I took a deep breath. Immense peace engulfed me. Beads of sweat evaporated as a cool breeze blew. Looking out through the window, I finally felt safe. They cant reach me here. Nothing can harm me.


Just then, the driver applied a sudden brake. And I hit my teeth. On the same metal bar. Again*.



___________________________________________________________________


*: I had a nasty accident, sometime back, last year in the same bus to office.

Of marine and terrain Fauna

Sometime in the mid of the week that went past, Ms Kutty, threw a party for us girls at a local restaurant. The occasion was to celebrate Ms Kutty’s return from her trip and subsequent stay abroad, on official purposes. Ms Kutty happens to be one of our ex-PG* mates. And the idea was initiated by the august efforts of one Ms Bumble Bee, whose unparalleled enthusiasm for organizing “events” in our tell-tale uneventful lives is well-known across the lengths and breadths of the nation. Owing to Bumble Bee’s deluge of emails and incessant flurry of phone calls (which Soliloquist dutifully missed, as usual, by leaving her mobile behind wherever she went, as a clue for any private eye who might have to trace her whereabouts, in case she gets lost, given her appalling sense of direction.) all the four of us were assembled sharp on time at the said venue, Bumble Bee making the grand entrance after a hard fight between the clock and the Madivala Traffic.

So we go in, gorge as much as we could, Bumble Bee getting experimental, ordering unidentifiable delicacies of the marine world which others were wary about, and finally having to finish all of it, (of course, Soliloquist, being solicitous, offering able assistance ). We had a nice long chat of old times, new times, and still newer times… Soliloquist, having lost the precious early morning hours of sleep for the past 4 days, benevolently smiles through most of it, dropping a quip here and there, to show she’s been listening…

As the evening progressed in this fashion, the meal traversed through its different courses, it was presently time to wind up. Kutty takes out her neatly organized purse. Soliloquist gapes in wonder at the sight of a neatly organized purse, as she does at anything that is neat and organized. Crisp Sodexho passes materialize and Kutty begins to count. As the count is checked, double checked, triple checked by all those at the table, Soliloquist’s interest with the purse vaporizes gradually. Soliloquist, by now fully awake, attempts to takes in the ambience, before they leave. ( Soliloquist, isn’t definitely lady-like, or even normal-human – like for that matter, ‘eat first – gawk later’ being her principle motto when comes to eating out.) A huge fish tank catches her attention and she is transported to a hypnotic trance by practicing the art of relentless staring without batting an eyelid on it. (A new technique of Transcendental meditation, eh???)

“They say its good for the heart to watch the fish”, Soliloquist announces, abruptly breaking her reverie.
Bumble Bee, rudely disturbed by this sudden digression, loses her count of the Sodexho passes and looks up.
“But I find them stupid” , opines Soliloquist, with a presumptuous air.
Bumble Bee, in a marine-favoring mood, enquires “why do you say so?”
“They are so dumb. All they do is swim, go up, hit the top of the tank, and go down. Go down, hit the bottom, and then go left. Go left, hit the left wall, and Go right. Go right; hit the wall on the right, and the go up. How absolutely mindless and moronic!!”
Bumble Bee lets out a guttural laugh. Soliloquist mouths a soundless “Oh-Oh”. Whenever Bumble Bee gives a guttural laugh, one can anticipate a well timed snub.
“How different are you from the fish? All you do is get up every morning, get ready, go to office, come back, eat , sleep, and again get up next morning, and repeat the same thing. Even if you take a break, or shift your location, you’ll still be doing the same thing. The maximum you might do is shift from one routine to another.”
Soliloquist mumbles under her breath, “ I need not have woken up from my half slumber in the first place. So much for taking in the décor.”
Bumble Bee, with rabidly (pun unintended!) multiplying enthusiasm of one who has scored over the other, and is ready to go for the kill, delivers her final blow “ At least the fish doesn’t have the sixth sense. You claim to have it ……” A suggestive pause follows which ensures that the message is duly communicated.

When the counting is finally done , and Kutty had neatly tacked up the bunch and left it for the waiter to collect, Soliloquist ruminates over the apparent snub and realizes the pearl of wisdom that Bumble Bee unconsciously let slip by. Soliloquist looks up at Bee with new found awe. And decides to append Bee’s name in her long list of awe-inspiring women.

And so the day drew to a close, with a more enlightened Soliloquist finally being able to catch her ever-lost 40 winks.



An aside:

Speaking of pearls of wisdom, ala PG style, this one came up late last night.
The Krish Heroine** was in a very chatty (read ‘reflective’ between the lines) mood. Soliloquist also warms up to the occasion and they happen to discuss all and sundry.
When the subject turned to relationships, Soliloquist, predictably, speaking volumes about the futility of human ties, The Krish Heroine wisely said, “Whatever said and done, Man is a Social Animal. If the “social” is removed from it, Man is an animal, nothing but an animal.”
Soliloquist blinks back her sleep and gets reflective. (Read ‘chatty’ between the lines.)



*: By now, the readers of the this blog should know what PG stands for. As for the rest, please go through the previous posts which I wouldn’t link here.

**: Tired of using initials, I decided to refer people by their nick names.

July Seconds

Fate’s whips lash
Dreams crumble
Before your eyes
Embers slipping
Through your fingers
Fall on your knees
As Tears harden
With Silent sighs
Nascent Smiles die
Nothing matters
Any more
A cherished mural
Washed down
By a downpour
A secret joy
Transmuted
To a personal sorrow
Grieve for what that was
Grieve for what could’ve been
Hurt that bottles up
Corked and buried

In the recesses
Of your psyche
Pain that shall
Follow you
To Your grave

A resounding blow
That makes a man
Out of a boy
Way too soon

The world baring
Its teeth at an
Hapless kid
Numbed beyond defense

Illusions stripped
To reveal
Reality that
Would Morph
Into illusions
Someday.

A bed of roses
Meandering mirage
The haze clears
Needles and pins
Thorns and nails

Destiny grins
Villainous
Piteous pleas
Last cries
Lost cries

Shadows of the past
Dregs of evanescent pleasure
Seals of destination missed
Disembowel your spirit

Shoulders sag
Gait slacks
Vision blurs
Conscience kills


Pain inexpressible
Misery sans vent
A slow poison
Numbing delight

Get a grip
Shake it off
It wasn’t meant to be
Was it ?

You were meant
For other things
It was for someone else
Probably it aint that good……

Move on…
Drag on…
Grit your teeth
And Endure..

Doors are still
Waiting to be opened..
Don’t fret
Over the one that closed…….

A loser’s pep talk?
A booster for the last lap?
Roads that lead nowhere?
Incarcerated for life
Edmond Dantes
Or The Count of
Mounte Cristo?

-The Lunatic Bard