Wednesday 26 June 2013

Dawn…the end of everything


It was nearing dawn on the cold, frosty day. The darkness of the night was being washed away by pale, yellow sunlight, too feeble to affect the chilling weather. The wooden shack looked quite ancient in its surroundings, echoing the imminent loss of someone who used to care about its well-being. The snow covered conifers, added to the gloomy grey environs, never making any efforts to look bright for they understood and felt the sorrow emanating from the solitary window let open to the outside world……

Even before she had finally allowed herself to be washed down with sleep, she knew she might not see the face she knew so well. It had been a night full of pain and anticipation, and with the passage of time, of rising fear. In the musty bed, her mother tossed and turned, crumpling the sheets in pain, fighting an invisible force which was draining all the strength from her body. Her mother fought with spirit, yet brain fever doesn’t abandon its hold by spirit alone. Sabrina felt like a droplet isolated from the ocean, to eventually evaporate into the atmosphere, a meaningless existence. She was all alone, the only one who still hoped a miracle might just occur. Her father, a foolish pessimist who had failed to clutch every opportunity bestowed upon him, had already tried to convince her that her mother was waiting for the palanquin from heaven, from Jannat, to serve and be with Allah. He had no hope that her mother would live to see the dawn. Sabrina’s heart cried in despair, over and over again. She believed her mother would live, she had survived much worse. Sabrina hated her father for losing hope, and even more for trying to stamp down on the bud of her undying hope, much before it had to shrivel down and die on its own. The last thing she noticed before she became entangled in the cobwebs of sleep was the warm, loving touch of her mother’s palm, hardened over the years with unending toil, on her cheeks. It silently conveyed the assurance that her mother would keep on fighting, that their love would never die. But here Fate decided to make its presence felt…….


As she woke up with the new light of the next morning, Sabrina knew that the calmness on her mother’s face came from freedom; freedom from the painful clutches of the one thing from amongst the hundreds that proved us everyday that we were mortals, that one day every one had to go. Sabrina never felt the tears flooding her face and splashing down on her skirt, never felt the strong arms of her father pulling her away from her mother’s side, and never realized that the ear splitting cries were emanating from her mouth. She just realized one thing; that she was all alone, that the dawn had brought her world crashing down….

Tuesday 28 May 2013

THE SONG BAHARA…THE REASON I MISS FRIENDS...

Lightning pierced the blue sky and painted a vivid illusion of daylight for the Bhubaneswar city this evening. I was sitting at my usual spot, all geared up for a rain specific romantic musical soiree. Ok honestly the lights were out and I only knew one thing to do, listen to songs. Yeah it’s pretty much the same for every girl out there. We just love daydreaming, and add to that a little music and I must say our world is very beautiful out there in our minds…But I am getting off topic. The reason I am writing is because I stumbled upon the son “Bahara” from the movie I Hate Luv Story. And magically it took me back to my carefree days in second year of college. This was the song I kept playing on loop en route to Deras for the first time with my friends. The ride was exactly in such weather sans rain and I was playing it out from a cell phone, sitting behind on a bike. Yes I got some crazy stares from the few people who passed our group but my friends were excited, I was excited and I didn’t give a damn. I was even singing it out loud in sheer happiness. It was such a beautiful time that I experienced with my friends and I realized that I was currently close with just one of them. What exactly had happened? Maybe we changed, maybe the situations. But I am sure that if I still hold such moments close, then at least some of my friends must be doing the same….So here is how I remember my friends …
Bibhu: One friend who giggled with me on the first awkward day of college, making it that much easier to blend into a room full of strangers… The friend who was my first bunking partner, my secret sharer in the last bench of business communication lab, a person who was mad and always made me laugh…
Deb: One friend who was seriously showing off since day1 of college and annoyingly so, who made me believe that hell yes I could be close with a total mad guy, the person who kept proposing to gals and till now keeps proposing me, who nicknamed me Angel and still gave me the book “Angel”…lol…who kept giving me songs, who pestered me to watch HIMYM (thanks fr dat!!)… But most of all he always knew when I was upset and mostly cheered me up..
Prasna: One friend who was obsessed with bikes and would have traded a hot bf for one of those. The friend who brought the crazy fun part out in me and kept punching boys on their noses…The person who although appeared not to give a damn about what people said about her was a total softie in her heart and always confided to me when people hurt her….
Siddhant: One friend who asked about me right in front of me right before an exam…One friend who was always slow to catch up on dirty jokes but was adorable for that…The friend who used to text me about how much he valued friendship, even over love…The one who was always up for a trip in his car and who religiously charged my illegal cell phone…
Sudha: One friend who was taken aback by my first question to her and thought me a total tramp…The friend who taught me how to be serious, how to be independent, how not to be emotional over small things and the person who sneaked me into hostel many times despite the trouble it myt cause her…the person who has never left my side since then…
Kandi: One friend who came in a group of friends but left his own memories… The one who loved teasing me, one who used to put in my place when I showed off, the one who used to tease me about how I spoke Hindi and always told me that I ignored him….
Anubhav: One friend who we always prophesied would make it big in real life…The friend who lost his heart over hopeless love, the one who always smiled no matter what you said about him, the person who has the most soulful collection of music…who made me fill out his slambuk and I was the first girl in that…
Arup: One friend who was always on my side when I teased a particular member of the group and was always my conspirator in teasing the hell out of him..Who debated about ITER ramp shows and matched my thoughts on who scorched it…
Pritam: One friend with whom I have been since school days and frankly I think he’s gonna follow me to my job too unless someone makes him a dancing IAS officer…lol…the first brother I made…my laugh buddy, my secret buddy…who faced the wrath of my uncle but didn’t ditch me but laughed about it the next day…
Sibangi: One friend who is my special bus mate, my crazy friend whom we loved teasing no matter when…my saving grace in a dull bus ride when I lost my earphones…my sweet partner in bus gupshup, my smile generator…the person who always had crushes on most unlikely people…(Edward and sir)…
Dasia: One friend who is MAD, the most stupidest pj maker , the laugh riot in bus or patties shop where we hung out…I do not remember any day whre he was there and I haven’t laughed…the guy who was a nervous wreck and kept telling me I am crazy for not wanting a job in our first campus…
Sikta: One friend who gave me a smile whenever I met her, who was always there to cheer for me, to be happy for me, and who no matter how long we hadn’t met would fit in right into my world and start where we left off…who shared the grief with me when our friend lost his dad…
Monica: One friend who became my friend rather late but has been a rock solid foundation, her notes made me pass, her reminders kept me on my toes, and her unquestioning listening abilities made me pour out my heart to her…she taught me not to xpect, she taught me that I am good as it is…and I still don’t understand her…
I loved the people for these memories they shared with me. I loved them for being in their own ways a part of my college memories which I hold dear to me. I maybe getting sentimental and maybe poking into the ashes here. But the fire was beautiful when it burnt; it gave me warmth and made my days brighter….THANX 


Monday 13 May 2013

Being with my books..


“Words, for all they were flimsy and invisible, had great strength. They could be fortified as a castle wall and sharp as a foil. They could bite, slap, shock, wound. But unlike deeds, words couldn't really help you. No promise ever rescued a person; it was the carrying-through of it that brought about salvation.”


Well..these are some words by one of my favorite authors Jodi Picoult..Words are the essence of a book, a blog , a letter..So when you write, you are fulfilling a promise..Its a promise to a loved one who believes in you, its a promise to the person who made you realize the power of words and finally its a promise to yourself because somewhere inside you lies a part  which wants to have that power to inspire and influence. But words even though they are a promise cannot teach you the art of living. Unless you follow through with your actions, about whatever those words taught you and meant for you.I am not aiming for those lofty ideals as of now. But if i can make one person smile or cry through my words, its worth it.

Books..They have carved a permanent place in my heart..Who doesn't want to live in a parallel world full of things to be explored, experiences to be tasted and touched, emotions to be analysed? Well parallel world is the backbone of virtual world games and social sites. So why not build your own world with every single book you read?

A single book can lay down a million experiences for your soul. If you are a romantic, you can experience the innocence of a first crush, the sweetness and uncertainty of that first kiss, the unspoken gestures that speak volumes but which we often ignore in our real lives, the intense mood of making love, holding a thousand different promises with it. If you believe in realism, you can experience the pain of loosing your loved one, the complications of dealing with any tragedy, the rock solid truths which are birth of a new life and death of a life well lived. If you are an adrenaline junkie, how else can you feel the thrill of using a powerful gun, the vastness of the ocean beneath you, the skillful alertness of a hunter. If you love a good old arguement any day, how else will can you get epic courtroom histrionics, powerfully delivered lines, word perfect merciless characters?



“For one who reads, there is no limit to the number of lives that may be lived, for fiction, biography, and history offers an inexhaustible number of lives in many parts of the world, in all periods of time.”
― Louis L'Amour


The pleasures of being absorbed in a book are manifold. Yet in our busy lives we hardly have time or the patience to explore these opportunities, to enjoy these subtle pleasures.

Why do i read a book?
I read because i do not want to feel alone. I read because in moments of darkness they light my way and make me smile and often make me wiser. I read because alone i am not equipped to handle the oddballs that life throws in my way. I read to love a little more, cry a little more, treasure my life a little more. I read to travel, to debate, to love. I read to cut through every chain that bounds me to my real life and i read to realize what i have and how beautiful my life is.