Tucked Away in My Heart - Comfort

Walking to get nowhere, steps aimlessly falling upon parched ground, I pull my shawl a little closer, and for some inexplicable reason I think of you.

Nonu, I think of each time that I grew sad, how you would comfort me and have me smiling in no time at all. Like this one time when I was bothered by the sight of an itsy bitsy pup being run over by an insensitive jerk on the road, who probably fancied himself to be Schumacher. You’d seen the look on my face and driving with one hand, you reached out and hugged me with the other. I still remember the sudden stop you’d made, looked at me with your puppy dog eyes and said, “I hate to leave you right now, but leave you I must”. My heart had lurched at that. Not necessarily the best thing to say at that moment! I’d held on to the dashboard of the car as if for dear life and till my knuckles went white. I actually heard myself exhale with relief as I saw you walking back. And the smile when you came back, and with “I know this doesn’t bring back the puppy to life, but…” handed me a box of Cadbury’s Nutties – my ALL time favorite - and a small card with an adorable pup on it that said, “I love you”. Oh the rush of emotions – still as strong as it was then…no, the shiver was NOT because of the super high air-conditioning. It was a tremble of love…of being loved…

Oh there were so many times that you comforted me – with a look, a smile, a song, a hug…only today the incidents, they seem to be eluding the grasp of my fingers groping through the maze of my memories.

Why today? I reach into the corner of my heart looking for you because today I’m sad. There’s mayhem in the world. Our country burns. It's not a puppy anymore. It is people. A friend of a friend has perished in the fire and it seems too close. A renowned person died and it’s almost as if a friend did – the thought that I’ll never be able to read of her again is too much to bear – for me. I think of her family and a tear escapes the confines of my eyes. People just names and numbers to me, but vivid as life to their families are now but frames on walls; memories frozen in pictures, but melting away in tears.

I sigh, turn around, looking for you. I stretch my hand out – as if to touch you. You’re not there.
I don’t know where you are, I don’t know how you are. One time I sent you a hello on an old email ID that sent me a reply: ‘Fatal error. This user does not exist”. I searched the ever expanding World Wide Web frantically for your company. It did not exist anymore. The world had indeed widened. Only, mine had suddenly become so small it was threatening to choke me.

At the memory, a sigh of futility finds its way through lips clamped shut. Muscles give way in shoulders held back, a reverberation in a head held high. For the briefest of moments, I close my eyes.

And it strikes me - separation is death, death is separation.

And for every single being alive suffering from either, there is no comfort.

Passion

Little buds of goosebumps on her dusky skin
A quiet indicator of what she is feeling.

A little flushed, a little rushed
Smiling, head shaking, her voice hushed.

Neck tilted, lashes lowered,
An escaped sigh, her desire smoldered.

How hard she tries, a breeze wanton,
There is no hiding this unbridled passion.

Poliics, sholitics

Would you agree we have far too many politicians in this world creating far too much mayhem everywhere?

Would you agree we don't need more of them?

Well, then you would agree that friendship is a bloody bad place to play politics in. The results are still the same - for furthering one's own end, they play politics. They don't care who gets hurt in the bargain...it's all about [perceived] power. It's all about divide and rule. It's all about 'i'm no past my prime yet. DOn't ignore me for someone new'.

Aah, this world would be a much simpler place if we took relationships for what they were - an independent series of transactions between two people....even in a group of three. It is possible. I have been there, done that. When we introduce our friends to our other friends, we should allow them to have independent relationshps - that's what I've always believed and tried to practice too, to a large extent....i'd actually say for the most part. Sure, there are timkes when it feels like, 'hey, we were friends first', but then sanity takes hold, I shrug my shoulders and find my corner to sulk, before bounding back to the center of the room and hold court once again!

Ok, so I got carried away a little in the last bit, but hey, i'm sure you got my drift.

Thanks for the listening ear. Now you can go think in your corner and come back here if you'd like to add anythign!

Tucked Away In My Heart - Laughter

And the laughter. What laughter ….just thinking about it is making me smile.

He has this deep belly laugh. Sync that with his baritone and the combination is rich enough to make you forget your blues when he laughs. Pair that up with my roaring laughter and people would surely turn around to want to be part of something truly hilarious…even if we were laughing at some silly little private joke.

There was this one time (of the very few that we met) when we wanted coffee and went to a popular chain of coffee stores – mind you this is still a time when “drinking coffee” at “coffee bars” was a fashion statement and the very “with it” thing to do. So here’s this couple sitting there, - obviously us – and obviously moony about each other, and they’re talking away very prim and proper – nineteen to the dozen, obviously exploring each other’s thought processes and all that, till something catches the girl’s attention. She starts with a small giggle, the guy leans towards her and says something which has her snorting and then moving on into her “I’d like to shake the world with my mirth” kind of laughter. Seeing her, he starts to smile. Then she says something that tickles his funny bone and before people have had a chance to roll their eyes at the “unsavviness” of it all, they’re both in gales of laughter!

A few people smiled – that is what laughter is supposed to do – really – a few grimaced – ‘very impropah, I tell you’ – I almost heard them say – but I couldn’t care less, could I? I was laughing, with the man I loved….and mother of all, loved me right back….it showed in his eyes, it showed in his tenderness, it showed in his protectiveness, most of all, it showed – loud and bl*&^%$ clear – in his carefree laughter.

Masks...

n, a deceptive outward appearance, syn. cloak, color, coloring, cover, disguise, disguisement, facade, face, false colors, front, gloss, guise, masquerade, pretense, pretext, semblance, show, veil, veneer, window-dressing...

This one's been my nemesis for all my life. I wear my heart on my sleeve...err, face, and find it very difficult to see through when what a person is saying is not what they mean, when what they're showing as their "feelings", their "best intentions for you" are not as honest and sincere as they sound.

Did i just evoke an incredulous "what?!?", "come ON, you can't be that naive", "oh please", "helloooo, open your eyes", or even a stare with an imperceptible shake of the head and an inaudible tut-tut from you? Well, those are some of the normal reactions I get from people who remind me - sometimes subtly, sometimes not as gently - that I am a fool for getting taken in by people.

Either that, or the truth of the matter reveals itself a little later.

That's when it causes pain. Of an extremely excriciating kind. And not physical.

That's what I recently went through - as fresh as two days back.

This "friend" empathises with me when I speak to them and the feedback I get from another "friend" is, "XYZABC said they get exhausted." Then I meet the first "friend" at a social do and the looks exchanged are all-knowing, the rolled eyes are all compassion and the hug is all warmth. And me being me, I'm repelled by that smile.

I am still reeling from the enormity of it.

All my life, at different points, different people, the same pain... and I still haven't learned.

Have you?

Tucked Away In My Heart - Sweet Serenades

"I wanna hold your haaaaaaand", he crooned. I nodded a happy blush...

Mind you this was still virtual love. He was still In Thailand, I was still in India. And yet here we were, dreaming of wispy curtains and Central Park style strolls (ummm...the places where either of us stayed, chances of a 4*4 patch of green were a hope, Central Park....yeah, right!). We slowly (!) got to know each other better. The 'escalation' of feelings was frenetic and we enjoyed the progression.

My morning would start off with stretching my arms - the right to stretch, the left to skim over the touchpad of my laptop to wake it up. (By this time, I, we, had started sleeping - in our respective places, naughty minds - with our laptops on - he used to sing me to sleep, I used to ping him when 'Hey I'm awake'!) I'd check whatever last few messages he'd left and swing my legs off my bed with the proverbial smile on my face and spring in my step. Brushing became a dancing activity and getting ready an enjoyable task rather than a what-do-i-wear-today-hartrumph-grrrr chore. I skipped out of home to the waiting cab (hey, I had a generous office!) enough times for my father to comment - "feeling rather lambish, aren't we" in amusement. "Aah what a beautiful morning - hey why are you so grumpy?" "Ummm....just - it's been raining cats and dogs, my newly done hair got undone coz of this incessant pouring - what are YOU so jolly about?" - this last one from my cabmate in response to my rose-colored view of a gloomy morning. Reached office, quickly got my most critical tasks out of the way, handled the few troubled (till now miserable, nasty, negative people) souls with what they needed before I settled down happily with Bhavna and Mala to 'discuss threadbare' the nuances of 'last night's Nonuvations'....conversations are a)boring, b)could con you...but Nonuvations(Copyright, Trademark and all that legal jargon in the name of this oooh! damsel) - aah - For Nonu, Of Nonu, By Nonu!

And then it would be time for me to call Nonu and wake him up. With a song. My favorite song for that day.

We had a happy songy thing going. He'd sing me to sleep, I'd sing him awake.

Serenading sure can be fun.

Tucked Away in my Heart - Higher Gear

How was I so sure I wanted to marry him? Like I said before – value systems, so important for both of us – as I’m sure for most people – matched, I loved his sense of humor and his being so articulate. A whole new saga of love had begun. I would chat with him all night, he would sing me to sleep – literally – not just hum – sing…what a voice…sigh…office would pass by in a blur and a flurry of email exchange…we could, neither one of us, wait till I got back home so we could chat. I was beginning to feel the butterflies turn into mammoths…and I didn’t mind. The only thing that was flummoxing me was – how could I feel butterflies for a person who I had not even seen? That brought me to my belief of the possibility of being turned on by more than just physical attributes. Could I actually be so lucky? Wow!

Not very strangely – I’m just a supremely confident person – I did not feel any insecurity, any second doubts about him or being with him or even his interest in me. We just got into the groove as if we were destined to be – no questions asked, no doubts raised. We started looking out for each other as would man and wife, “Did you get your dinner?” “No honey, not yet, I’ll just get some.” “Nonu, you will fall sick. Everyday I ask you about dinner and everyday you tell me you are delayed. Acidity ho jayegi na, baby” “ok promise, I will eat on time tomorrow.” Or “Nonu..” “hmmm?” “nonu, I want to go dancing with my friends on Saturday night” “ok, that sounds good. Where are you guys planning to go?” “XYZ place” [pause] “baby, are you sure you want to go there? Not a very safe place for women to go to is what I’ve heard.” “ummmm…we’ll be a group of people.” “got any men coming?” “yes…you know Ankur, right? Monika’s beau? And Nannu – my best friend” “oh, OK…if he’s there, then that’s fine.” “did you pay your phone bill bachcha?” [– I tell you that bachcha used to make me swoon] “nooooo, I forgot!” “Bachcha, if they disconnect your phone, where will I call and talk?”

I started dreaming of my life with him…a sprawling house in Faridabad, white French windows that opened out into a lush garden, lace curtains, a brown dog with floppy ears…an open kitchen, Frank Sinatra playing in the background, me cooking the vegetables, Nonu making the rotis [chuckle…I’m the devil in disguise…I loathe making rotis….effective delegation is the name of the game…or should I say effective blackmail….tee hee], two cars in the driveway – he was emphatic I learn how to drive….the works. He started to act on making my dreams a reality. Sent instructions to get the house painted white and the curtains to be changed to the wispy white lace we both saw and closed on the internet. His mother actually asked him one day – “what’s going on?” That’s the day he told his parents he’d found me. General happiness all around!

Halleluiah! My life was moving in the fast lane.

Addicted

Ok...you know you're addicted to Facebook (substitute with Orkut, Hi5, Tagged...) if you have a flight to catch at 5 in the morning and right from midnight to 3:30 in the AM you're responding to people who've tagged you sexy, hot, pretty, gorgeous, gasp! and so on....can't be impolite to them, can you. So you think you're just being (very flattered and...) well - mannered. After all, there's a reason why you got an education and a to-die-for upbringing! You suddenly realize that's not the only thing you've done in the last 3.5 hours...you've also opened the Facebook inbox in a new tab, along with photos - on which you're commenting, applications - which you're editing, The Birthday Calendar - You DO have to maintain relationships, really!!!, all in proud little tabs of their own ( I use the magical IE 7) THAT'S when you know you're addicted.

No? OK...How about the fact that you haven't packed yet, you haven't had 40 winks (it was Sunday after all...who sleeps on Sunday?), you have a flight in 2 hours and a LO-HON-G day looming up? How about that you're dying to go eat something (What do you mean you've NEVER heard of hunger pangs at 2:30 in the dark AM?) but don't step down coz it might mean missing out on a chat?

Still not convinced? How about if I remind you of the fact that the last hug you received was "thrown" at you by one of your facebookers from across the globe? Or even that the last plant you saw was actually a tulip beseechingly sent to you by L'il Green Patch? And oh, that you last 'spoke' to your favorite cuz by writing on her "Wall"?

D&^%...just realized...I've been writing for the last 3.75 minutes...better get back to the other screen...who knows what someone might have written on my wall, thrown at me, bought me for how much money or worse still, won more points than me by being there?...

Tucked away in my heart – Articulating…

He responded to me two days later with a, “I took your parting shot and was busy trying out the food on various flights from Mumbai to Singapore and then to Thailand. Thank you for the bon appétit. I know it’ll be early evening for you, so are you back home from work? And can we connect on yahoo messenger? While I truly believe in the power of letters (well, ok, emails), instant messaging is just so much more, well, instant, for one and real time for another. AND there’s a voice chat feature, so if you have a mike and speakers, we can actually talk! Till I hear from you, I shall cook.¨ Hmmm, I thought to myself. Someone who can articulate himself with some semblance of wit. Let’s see what he’s got. I added him to my yahoo list under the “friends¨ group and sent him a ping ‘I’m here. What’s taking you so long?’ No response. I looked at the screen for about 45 seconds. Nothing. I wrote him off in my head and just when I was turning away from the laptop, I saw the window flash. “Hey! Was caught between responding to you immediately and a chicken on fire. Decided to attend to the chicken first, else I wouldn’t have been able to establish my prowess as a cook :D!¨ “Oh my. And a chicken-on-fire takes precedence over me?”, I asked. “Only till such time we decide we’ll be eating together!¨, came the prompt reply.

My attention was definitely caught with the pert reply as much as it was with this man comfortable enough to tell me he cooked and he cooked well. A few more wittily polite messages later, he asked me for a voice chat. Interesting. Gentleman enough to ask for my permission and not presumptuous enough to hit the “talk¨ button on his own. He had my undivided attention at hello, to almost borrow a quoted - and much used - line. What a rich, deep voice. Clark Gable. Amitabh Bachchan. You name the demi-gods with rich baritones and he could beat them silly, mouth closed, with his voice. And so well spoken. And articulate. And I’m drooling again, just thinking about him.

That night, over Yahoo, you dirty minds, we found we shared the same value systems - the most important to both of us and non-negotiable. We both loved to read and listen to music, so much so that we liked the same genre of music - rock. We both had similar tastes when it came to colors as well - we both loved blue. We both worked with NGOs - the difference being I worked for people who were struck by AIDS and he with street children. All in all, it looked good. It felt like falling in step with someone I’d known forever and we both actually joked about the “saat janam” bit that you hear in b-grade movies. Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, I excused myself for a few minutes and as I was walking out, I heard him softly sigh, “Lady, where have you been all my life?” I smiled and said to myself, “Where have YOU been?” The night flew by and took along with it any need for sleep. A conversation with him was as heady as coffee. And quite as refreshing.

In the morning, I walked out of my room and into my parents’ and made an announcement that left them stunned - remember, this was early in the morning and they were still rubbing the sleep out of their eyes. “I’ve found the man I want to marry” is what I’d just said to them.

Of Maids and Their Ilk

Recently a good friend of mine wrote on the travails of maids. Her line of fear - not thought - was her maid would run away with her 'boyfriend'.

Mine is that our maid will drive us all mad and subsequently to the verge of some chronic disease.

What is it with them? Why can I not find someone who has an iota of a brain and knows not to wash colored clothes with white? Who knows that a white shoe goes with a white one and not with navy blue or brown! Who knows that one cannot broom up all the dust in the room when the fan is on. And one who knows it's OK to ask and eat rather than be caught eating without - THAT's the surest way out of the door.

Let me tell you about this morning. We have a fully automatic washing machine. You know - the kinds that will wash to rinse to spin and to part dry for you? THOSE kinds. Don't ask me what she did, but my maid actually managed to take out wet clothes - WET clothes from the said machine and put them out on the line to "dry". And of course, a few of them fell on the terrace - a usually clean, cemented terrace, ringed by potted plants. I have NO idea what she did up there - but when I went up, I saw a row of "clean" clothes smudged with - gasp - mud! SHe managed to get the terrace dirty, managed to get what were till sometime back clean clothes stained and she had calmly stepped down to the ground floor without cleaning either!

नहीईईईईईईईईईईईईई

Boy, you can't blame me for losing my cool the way I did. And did I lose it!

And this is just the tip of the iceberg in my woes against this particular maid.

Maid-line number, anyone?

Tucked Away in my Heart - The Beginning

Let me take you back to the start.

I "met" Nonu via a matrimonial website - not a very subtly named one at that. Yes, in today's day and age, I still want my parents to look for a suitable "boy" for me. My parents had been after my life to get married and had gone ahead to make me yet another one along with a gazillion others wishing to get married - so much for your identity and meeting - and falling in love with - the right person and so on. I was dead set against this way to holy matrimony, but the powers-that-be - my parents - were dead set for it. Guess who won.

But I digress. SO, I got to know Nonu via a matrimonial site. I took one look at his profile, gave him the once-over, and passed him by saying, “he doesn't look or sound exciting enough. Next, please." And I thought that was the end of it. But no. My sweet father went ahead, gave his profile more than the once over and, giving me a very grieved look, "He's tall, decent looking and well educated. What more do you want? Meet him once and listen to what he has to say, please." Guess what happened.

When my father finishes a sentence with a "please" it means get it done and get it done now. So, there I sat, staring at my laptop screen in the dead of one very cold January night, trying to politely reply to his email -thanking him for his interest in my profile. Not me, mind you, my profile. On matrimonial websites, we are not a person. We are a "profile". I looked at his words - "Went through your profile. It interested me at first, then made me smile, captivated me with a firm grip and finally made me laugh out loud. What a refreshing change from the usual boring 'sarva gun sampann' write-ups. If you find my profile interesting too, do get in touch with me. My email ID is..." And of course, when I went through his profile, it was as cut and dry as they come. Talked about his family - a business one, in the outskirts of the place I belonged to (mental tick 1. I have always wanted to stay close to where my parents are.), about his siblings - only brother to three loving sisters (mental cross 1. THREE sisters? I'd be squashed!), about the fact that they were a super close family (mental ? 1. Aren't we all?). It also talked about the fact that he was project manager with a large IT firm (ho hum) and that he loved to eat - a complete foodie (mental tick no. 2.), that he loved to cook (mental tick no. 3.) and that he loved to travel and wanted to visit every nook and cranny of the world (mental tick no. 4. Deal Clincher.). I decided to write back to him."Hi, Thanks for showing an interest in my profile". Backspace all the way to the comma after the ‘hi.’ Sounded too gratified that he'd even so much as looked. Hello, this is me we're talking about. "Hi, Glad you dropped by." Backspace all the way again. As if I was waiting for him - or anyone else - to. Many attempts later..."Hi, Well I'm a success. I made at least one person on the earth laugh. :) Went through your profile. Must say your love for food and travel are what really made me write back to you. I have two questions for you to start with. What's the most different thing you've eaten? And, what's the prettiest place you've been to till now?

Till I hear from you, bon apetit."

I hit the "send" button.

Isolation

...Is not good for me,
Aaaisolation...
I don't want to live on a lemon tree...

As a popular song's lyrics go, I've found that solitude is one thing isolation is not for me.
For the last 10 odd days I have been isolated - by choice - from all I hold dear - my parents, the rest of my family, my books, hell (pardon the cuss word), even my bed! To be fair to me, I embarked on the journey with all seriousness and fastidious resolve . And managed fairly well for about, umm…honestly…well, 5 whole days till the smell of home made masala-laden food wafted up my nostrils. This from the first floor of the 2 –storied apartments I had chosen to (w)hole myself in. Waaaaaaah, I wanted my mommy. (Oh hey, I know I’m a certain age but who EVER stops wanting their mommy?). So after a long weepy call with her here’s all of what I found:
1. Living in isolation is not the easiest of things to do. I now shudder when I think of those in solitary confinement. What a cruel, cruel punishment
2. We NEVER stop wanting our mothers and the special flavor of the food they make
3. Try as we might, the rajma will NOT be as good as ma makes it
4. I am too much of a creature of comfort. I spent the first 6 days ordering things from home and now the last 3 days requesting for this and that while I’m waiting to be picked up at the end of my voluntary confinement
5. The air conditioner is a luxury no more!
6. Much as you love to cook when you live alone, you WILL eat Marie biscuits and bread (not together obviously, but these will be the first thing you reach out to when hunger pangs gnaw at that great crumbling wall we call ‘stomach’)
7. If not diabetes and heart-attack, the water problem in this country WILL kill you one day.
8. I can survive 10 days without eating anything (this of course does not apply to Marie biscuits).

So, so much for the learnings and big words like isolation solitude searching for oneself. I'll leave those to the mahayogi's. For me, the gnawing increases.

I’m just happy to be going back home today.

Tucked Away in my Heart – Ennui

Is what i'm writing a result of my ennui coz I don't have any work to do or is it because i'm grappling with coming to terms with a situation? What is it?

Why am I going through this roller coaster of tumultous emotions? Angry one minute, sad the next, nostalgic this moment, perfectly normal the other? Why is it so difficult to rein them all in one nonchalant feeling? Does everyone, who's loved and watched that love losing go through these? Why is my pride stopping me from reaching out to anyone and talking to them. All my friends used to come to me...so why can't I go to them with what's bothering me? Because it's between me and Nonu. My best friend - Lambie -he's coming...but do I dare to speak to him about any of this? More than it being between me and Nonu, lambie will kill...me and Nonu both...actually he won't even be bothered about Nonu. He'll just kill me...I can almost hear him....do you NOT have ANY brains? WHY did you go? Why did you have to meet him? WHY could you have not controlled whatever it was that you were feeling when you knew things were not working out?...Oh GOD...if I had the answers to any of these why's I'd be able to control myself and the situation. The only answer that I have right now is that this is never going to work. None of my fervent prayers will help, all my promises to the Supreme Being of leaving chocolates and non-vegetarian for life will go waste. None of this will work out the way I want it to...because it takes two...and there's only one...

Ennui...resulting from dilemmas...born out of lack of answers...arising out of Nonu's...ennui?

Life comes full circle

Tucked Away In My Heart - Memories

Memories...unbidden - like a forbidden thought...unexpected - like hot flushes...uninvited - like an ex-boyfriend…

I'm on a plane, sipping on hot tea with a dash of lemon, when I stop midway a sip - I’m back in Barista. The door opens and my eyes lock with another mischievous pair. I look the other way coz i've just drawn in my breath...I'm actually here. A thought crosses my mind - Should I Be? and I push it away. Is Nonu thinking the same too? I can see his confusion...he- one who claimed to not allow anyone else to speak - is just as quiet. He's trying to take in the enormity of us standing next to each other. A voice on the phone and a picture on the comp is suddenly standing next to me in the flesh - all 6 feet of him dressed in delicious white and blue...The ride to his place in the cab - hesitant excitement. He holds my hand - at the pretext of showing me the shape of the city, for heavens' sake...in today's day and world :) - and I shiver. I'm apprehensive. And looking forward to spending time with him. He nudges me...and I jump. I'm very ticklish :). We still can't get over the fact that I'm here. We make small banal talk. What was it? I can't remember it now. All to soon we're at his place...

...I've come to realize that when memories hold you by the hand and pull you onto a path stepped on before, it's best to give in to the pull and go along. Coz if we resist it, the lash of thoughts just comes on much MUCH stronger. Like this morning when my thoughts defied my control and went back to him. It felt good to relax and think about him. I think I went a little berserk earlier coz I didn't know how to deal with something I’d never dealt with before. To dare to talk and act the way I did, knowing the feeling was mutual and then to have it end so abruptly without as much as an if-you-please was too much for me to handle. And I could either go through life hating us both for what happened and that which didn't or I can savor the feeling and cherish the moments we spent. We both awakened something in the other that we both had let sleep for too long a time. And we both haven't been able to handle it together...and now we're both trying to let it go it in our own peculiar ways. Perhaps he already has, and with every passing day I am too.

In the meanwhile, I’ve figured out it isn't worth suppressing what I feel. And so, beginning today, I've allowed myself the luxury of remembering. I've been thinking of him in fits and starts all day...Like a flash this morning - every vivid detail, every whispered sigh, every gentle instruction...and every urgent one too...

Oh, memories...unbidden, yet so delicious.

Tucked Away in my Heart 1

What follows here is a series of short stories that I’m attempting to write – all around a central theme. A pretty girl who’s just turning 30 and who’s loved someone – Nonu -who truly loved her yet is not with him because of their strong belief in their shared values. The series is conversations she has aloud with him and of her memories with him. Of course, he’s not there.

Nonu. The one I’ve loved with all my heart and soul. Nonu. The one who made me feel like a princess. Nonu. My prince. Nonu. Now married to someone else.

There are days when I wish I was with you and not without. There are days when I just close my eyes and thank God or whoever is up there for whatever moments I got with you. I thank profusely for the moments you made me feel like the most loved, most wanted – and I mean in a good way here – woman in the world. I’m sure every woman in the world feels this; I feel it more acutely so. Those moments are what give me the strength to carry on in dark moments of loneliness. There are moments like this one, when I talk to you and I just know that somewhere you’ll hear my words.

And now I’m beginning to sound like a sad, drippy romance novel. What I really want to do is to tell you about my trip to Thailand.

Yes, I finally went to Thailand. Two years too late, but I went nevertheless. And everywhere I went it reminded me of you. Oh Nonu, I so wanted to see you there. When I went to the floating market, all I could see was your handsome smiling face, you pointing at the camera, then you sitting at that cheap formica table with Ming and the rest of your colleagues. I saw Pantip Plaza and I went to PatPong street just to walk down the same road that you walked down on. I went into one of those massage parlors and got a massage, thinking all the while that at least one of us had the experience...:)

So futile, just writing this away. You'll never get to read it. I miss you calling me "child". There's another and he calls me that when he knows he's pushed me too far and wants to mollify me, but it's just not the same :(. I miss your laughter. I miss you crooning till I drift off to snoozeland and then quietly disconnecting the phone. I miss the urgency in your messages. I miss those blushes whenever I would suddenly think of all we'd talked through the night about. I don't want you, but I miss you. There are times when I think of how easily we fell in step with each other. Of how we could talk for hours on an end and of how we could mail each other after a day or two and it would just be a continuation of our last mail exchange.

I don't love you in that wild, urgent way any more, but there's still that fond remembrance of how you made me feel like a child and woman at the same time. Most days you’re just that faint ache in my heart which I miss in the loud thumping caused by some excitement or the other.

Damn...saying all this has made me realize I really do miss you. Do you miss me too? Have to go now. Will be back to talk to you some more…

Romance and I...Sigh...

I'm at what is touted to be the most beautiful property in the world. In the evenings and at night, when the property is lit up, it's simply whisper- and sigh - worthy. Don't believe me? Check the pictures on the link above and you'll know what I mean.

But this isn't about how beautiful the property is. This is about what being on this property does to people.

As I was walking up to my room after dinner, strolling and sighing, I saw this couple, hand in hand, talking ever-so-softly, treading ever-so-gently and at one point they just stopped, the boy sank to his knee and before I could run over and 'help' or revive' him (! - hey, my intentions were good), with a flourish he took something in the palm of his hand and offered it to the pretty girl.

OMIGOD! I think my hand went to my mouth faster than did the girl's! OMIGOD OMIGOD...he's just proposed to her.

Felt a sting behind my eye (emotional fool, did i hear one of you hiss?), I turned around to leave them to their private moment and joy (I DO so hope she said yes) and ran smack! bang! into a gorgeous looking, blue-eyed TALL guy. He reached out to steady me, I almost swooned. He bent down to pick up my fallen key (what did you think, dirty minds?), looked at me and in a very tender voice said, "Sorry, I hope I didn't hurt you". His fingers brushed past mine while returning the key to me. I couldn't help, but smile at his angelic face. "No," I said, "I should be alright. But thanks for asking." And this, while I was seeing stars - not in the sky, but inside my head and around my eyes.

I took a step forward and the whole world started to move from the left to the right in circular slow motion. I reached a hand to steady myself and he caught hold. "Right then," he said as briskly as he could and all manly concern. "I'm dropping you to your room." I simply nodded.

He walked me to my room, a little further from his own. We talked a little. I asked after him, he wanted to know more about me - all in the span of the 4.5 minutes it took us from the 'Candle Room'. We reached my room, he paused. The key clicked and the LED went green. I turned around, reached up and kissed him.

He hesitated, I smiled. "Thanks." "Anytime." He turned to go away with a slight "goodnight...". I waited at the door, a half smile playing on my face...What a gentleman in this uncouth world...He turned back to look, our eyes met....

Now, now, as they say rather un-primly - don't get your panties in a bunch - I just waved him goodbye. I just kissed his cheek. And before you say, "Yeah RIGHT!", hang on - he's all of 15!

Tut Tut! What were you waiting for?

F(l)ailings of the Heart

Oh how the human heart likes to flail! Don't get me wrong, it smiles and laughs and beats faster too. But this one's about how it likes to...

...Flail - v., tr. - To wave or swing vigorously and violently; thrash

Don't get a phone call. Flail.

Don't get a promotion. Flail.

Don't have enough money to buy that Louis Vuitton bag? Flail.

Don't have enough time to spend with the one who's phone call finally came. Flail.

Somebody's friend's friend got a to-die-for job. Flail.

Where does the line between envy, greed and deep pain get blurred? The heart does not know. All it does is...flail.

Conceiving Misconceptions

How are misconceptions born?

When two people are thinking on parallel planes. When they haven't validated their thoughts.

When two people are not listening to each other. When they haven't even tried to be heard.

When one look with the glasses of disgust, ennui, irritation, pre-conceived decision is taken. When those glasses aren't taken off.

A split second of a perception, a longer duration of misconception.

And every minute, a million hearts are broken.

Decisions

The decisions that we take...sometimes I wonder, what drives us to them. I've heard so many people say - "Once I take a decision, I don't change it, I stick by it." And I always wonder...what if it's the wrong one? What if you find out one or two years down the line that this was the wrong one? Life would have moved on by then. And heaven forbid, if the decision is about people, then those people would have moved on by then!

I am always wondering about my decisions - some of them are driven by emotions. Some by circumstances, some by the sheer dint of anger. And a lot of times I wonder how things would have turned out if my decision were any different than the one I took. I take them I stand by them, but I definitely wonder about them.

Do you?

Endings and beginnings...

Why do we have more endings in life than beginnings?

More people die, than are born; more relationships end than begin; more parts of our heart break than are joined.

Why?

And then, whenever a relationship - friendship, relationship, love - ends, I feel like I'm rooted to the same spot and the world is rushing by me. Kind of like how they show in the movies - you're stuck, stunned and yet nothing stops. A part of me gets stuck to the spot even when I do finally move on after mourning and grieving and when I look back over my shoulder, I see a younger me standing there - forlorn, quiet, alone, sad.

I look back at myself quizzically and say - so what, it was just another ending...

Sundays

First one eye opened and then the other, a quick glance at the time on the screen and I sat up - bolt upright! 7:30 AM. God, I was going to be late for work.

And then, phew! It's only Sunday.

Ever been through this? Told me I had too much on my mind and even more on my plate. SO, I decided to take today easy. No work. The laptop would be switched on, but only for listening to music and to write.

And here I am. Writing after cooking my favorite dish of pasta, soaking lots of baby onions and green chillies in vinegar, and baking 'Iced Ginger' cookies (! yes i'm becoming domesticated !).

Nothing like this, then.

Sundays should be spent like this. Doing your own thing and watching the weather turn from sunny to wow-it's-going-to-rain-soon.

Happy Sunday!