Happy First Anniversary!

As time crawled by and my thoughts fountain-ed like pigeons in the sky, I wondered if my life is dreamy. I rolled in the dough of mesmerizing togetherness, fleeting shadow of cloudy days, hem of bliss on crack of dawn and light of my life. I looked at him and silently thanked him for the joyous time I had spent, for the unfathomable pleasure I have received, for multitude of right chords we have strung together and for a new beginning of blissfully wedded life.


With our nibs dipped in the ink of love we sketched our dreams on page one. The love-filled thoughts had accommodated itself on the first page of our life. We had made the thoughts rest on the maiden book of our life for the last year. We were writing a story, a story which involved two people meant to love each other. This story had to be written on a sheet, naturally decorated and dyed with love. We platonically entwined in each other’s soul when a year crawled by because this was the beginning. This was our paper anniversary after all!

19th November, last year we took our vows. We were made one universally. We celebrated that feeling of togetherness and love. Being with someone you love is a beautiful but immeasurable feeling. You feel your life, all of a sudden has been topped by beautiful golden crown. On suddenly noticing new-fangled blossoming all around, you emerge out of your cocoon and turn into a beautiful butterfly.

Life is like that, enjoy togetherness and live life with someone you love. Heaven is right here!

Do you hear music, Rockstar?

I remember watching RK’s first movie, ‘Saawariya’ and I cannot forget how my head was in clouds for I could not understand what was going on in the movie... I had surely brushed RK off thinking he is another Kapoor offspring in the rising and shall fade unnoticed like many. I was so grossly wrong! With his choice of movies and talent he made my judgement about him melt into effervescent fondness. And my point of view strengthened after I watched Rockstar. The movie has witty and earthy dialogues. It is flawed but fabulous.

I think the movie does not have to offer anything great but music. The soul of the movie is its music and RK’s acting. Movie starts with the striking life in Delhi University and a wannabe rock star, Janardan’s yearning to become Jim Morrison. He enters the campus like a mildly frazzled goldfish and learns that without any big pain in life his dreams of becoming a rock star will be reduced to rubble. Enters Heer Kaur who is hot, most desired and famous for breaking heart; Janardan wishes her to break his heart and instil pain so that he becomes rock star. Instead the plot moves on making them quite close to each other and he even rallies round her wedding. Detailed plot has few flaws and since devil lies in details if you ignore story’s imperfection you will enjoy the rest. RK is so skin-deep into the character that his pain, anguish and agony will pique your interest. His vendetta voice makes him look like an irate bear with a sore head. The way he has strum the chords of guitar in frenzy makes him a wannabe. He metamorphoses into an angry, distressed and disgruntled rock star whose pain inflicts on his guitar chords and music... he becomes Jordan.

Sometimes it is difficult to fathom what have you lost despite seeing the presence of perfection in your life. You try hard to get what you like for the fear of forcefully liking what you get. In turn, a lot of us lose the enchanted melodies of life, we neglect the small things which were the reason of our happiness and we forgo people who made us alive. Rock star is not a movie, it is a timeless journey of a wannabe who gets what he wanted in life but at a cost he wasn’t aware of!

"Pata hai..

Yahaan se bahut door
Ghalat aur sahi ke paar
Ek maidan hai
Main wahaan milunga tujhe"

A roller coaster ride!

From face book: A friend wrote on his wall, ‘Getting rickshaw in Mumbai rains - is priceless’. I have no reason not to see eye to eye or concur since I am also one of the pained inhabitant of ‘Maximum City’ who does not drive her car but go for rickshaws instead!

Time is a continuum. I came to Mumbai last December…rickshaws were so readily available then. I came from Pune and   I knew how difficult it is to find it, go for it and genuinely pay for it. It was until I came to Mumbai and learnt that rickshaw-wallahs are very just, they shall take what the meters read…not a dime extra. Well, the just rik-fellow seems to have metamorphosed from the naïve Alabama cotton-picker to barbaric money lenders of Jamindari period. 

It was one of the days in Mumbai when I was on a hunt for a rickshaw which could drop me to my destination. The office errands are way too much to trouble you and then not finding damn rickshaws after standing for hours adds insult to injury. My miserable mood grew sloppy big when it started to rain too.  Ah! Can someone buy me an idyllic life in Mumbai? 

After waiting for something like ages and making valiant efforts, I was mighty relaxed when one agreed to go. That was a rickety rickshaw which had booming stereos. He reminded me of rickshaw rides in Delhi, when we would reject a rickshaw because he didn’t play FM/ or had no stereo. Back then the noise never bothered me. My friends and I would enjoy the thumping… Seems the noise of the city has ripened my soul enough to abandon pulse-throbs. 

I surreptitiously looked at the rickshaw driver in the mirror. If you ask me why, I have no concrete answer except for could be I have to identify him somewhere again, has he taken me before in his vehicle, is he drunk, etc etc…I think every rickshaw-wallah has noticed this and therefore drives more rash, making the rides bumpy and irksome.

This rickshaw-wallah rode hastily in rhapsody like he was asked to gorge on an unlimited buffet which would stand null and void if he didn’t finish it in five minutes. I had clung on to my bag and gingerly kept my phone in the compartment. My things quivered like flying maggots in frying pan. I fathomed it could be his usual style of driving from the scratches on the upholstery. I also hoped the meter was not rigged insanely. The loud song (in some language, I could not unearth) was grotesque. Yet I sailed through the cyclonic ordeal. I tried to concentrate on the people creeping like insects, vehicles honking like starving hyenas and reeking spouts of water from open drain (I see no difference in the natural smell of Mumbai and a stinking canal; everything smells the same in Mumbai). The auto-fellow paid tender curtsy to every pothole on the road making the rides more jarring. I struggled to overlook distress and transfix in everything around till I finished the roller coaster ride.