Life’s a journal…..

I had a dream like every other person…...and it is to have a home near to office……. Strange as it seems for all of you, aint it?

But for me it was really a dream because it used to take more than 2 hours to reach my office and most of my time was spent in travelling. As the old adage speaks, “If the mountain won't come to Muhammad then Muhammad must go to the mountain.”…so in order to fulfil this little dream of mine, I had to go to Singapore. But as they say, dreams are only good in “dreams”, if you know what I mean……Now that I am near to my office , it may seem happy, but am away from home and life away from home isn’t as beautiful as it is in dreams. Its only after you are away from home you would realize why people use the phrase 'home sweet home'. Since my inception on earth, I was never away from home and as for me i always thought that life away from home was wonderful just b'coz you can do things you want to do.. no one to boss you around(wonderful! isnt it?!). Just the thought of it used to make me so happy. May be its b'coz of my family where people cant stand see me strain myself... no doubt its nice to sit back,relax and watch people do things for you ...but not forever! When I landed here in SG, I call it the starting day when realization began to dawn on me. Slowly i started realizing that life away from home was not as much fun as i imagined it to be, it was something so damn different!... I had to do many things that i never did before. I had to cook work and wash ….and what not… although i had good house-owner and cousin who help me with the process... but in-spite of having them for me.. it was still difficult. Gradually all the excitement i had for staying away from home started fading away ....

Well, today I am missing many things, dad, mom, friends, family, hyderabad and her. ……………..i was completely different until the day she stepped into my life. She stepped in like a dream....mmm..

Well, today for some reason memories about her showered like a mist and somewhere in my mind i can sense that all the coming days will not be mine.... memories alone would be my gift..my beautiful memories……I cannot forget that day when I was in airport and just about to leave, she was before me with a flash of happiness on her face and a contented look…I can never forget that look of hers……..

Tears that seldom comes from my eyes fell… I have seen many people hurt, many painful things, but when I saw her like that I couldn’t bear….. May be at that time she was like a beautiful riddle to me…she was just like a miracle..

It is almost late night here now, a cold night..i can stare from my window a Chinese couple romancing down my apartment, a few kids playing beside them and enjoying a fire light dance.

I can hear them singing merrily J

Is it a color of love or a color of merry?

which sculpture’s dream are you ? Which heart’s desire are you?

Are you jasmine in plaits? Or are you rainbow in clouds?

Is this fragrance yours? Is my ecstasy true?

Or is it all YOU?

Your words are sweet..your movement is pretty

Is sky bowing down at your beauty?

Why are flying away like a humming bird…., Don't give a furtive look and disturb me…..

Like a fishing bait... Don't entice me with your talk and let me walk......just let me walk J

So is this really “homesickness”, i wonder !!!!!

A Walk To Remember

Today for no reason, I had a long evening walk, visited the roads/temples/parks pertaining to my childhood memories. Hyderabad is a kind of place where the humidity rose so high in the summer that walking out to even get the mail would make a person feel as if he needed a shower. While I walk, I was just thinking about these Twenty six years of my life. “Twenty six” years, , I think sometimes, and despite my own acceptance of my age, it still amazes me that I haven’t been warm since 2002. Life especially is not easy to explain and I felt may be a person can get used to anything if given enough time. It was never the rip roaring spectacular I fancied it would be, but neither have I burrowed around with the gophers. The optimists would call this as challenge and the cynics would call it as problem. But the path is straight as ever, but now it is strewn with the rocks and gravel that accumulate over a life time. I somehow feel that my days are spent like an old party balloon; listless, spongy and growing softer over time…….thinking all these I suddenly realized that my cell phone was missing from my pocket…Ahh…! “Not Again God”..i thought to myself….I was totally frustrated and amok(as I always loose it), and starting searching the way I just walked for some time and after a furlong walk, I realized that I should make a call and I had no other option but to look for a public telephone booth….wait…..”Telephone booth”…I just mulled ….!!!

”OMG! I recalled this term perhaps after ages”. Then I again thought “Why is that phone in a box?” It seemed so funny that I was almost into oblivion about this. I’ve had some major life experiences in phone booths: calling my parents when I was in hostel, having endless discussions with my college friends, also receiving collect calls from my friends (we got away with that a bunch of times until an operator broke through and said “I know what you’re doing!” and cut us off.). And suddenly I realized that there are only 2 proper phone booths left in my area. So I found myself imagining what it must feel like to be one of those phone booths, once so central to people’s lives, but now on the verge of extinction.

With a sigh, I felt it all come back to me. I close my eyes and the years began to move in reverse, slowly ticking backward, like the hands of a clock rotating in wrong direction. As if through someone else’s eyes, I watch myself grow younger. I see my hair changing from brownish black to dark black, I feel the wrinkles around my eyes begin to smooth, my arms and legs grow sinewy. Lessons I have learned with age grow dimmer, and my innocence returns. I used to pass through these roads innumerous times, but, never ever I felt this kind of feeling which I had today.

The same phone booth which was once crowded with people as the night approaches, watches with dispirit as the people who once used it suddenly start passing it by, pressing ‘tiny cell phones’ to their ears. Remember the days when phone booths stood on almost every street? If you had to make a call, you'd step inside the little booth, lift the phone off the hook, check the start time, check for the tariff rate, push the buttons, and hear it ring? And in the quiet of the booth, you could call your grandmother, or let the office know you were running late, whatever and in the mean time watching people waiting in the long queue, who would be desperately awaiting their turn.

The once proud and happy phone booth is stood alone and empty, unused and dejected. Now no more long queues near the telephone booth, no more waiting’s until late night just to make calls so that it would be cheaper by 50%. I imagine the phone booth saying these days, “I’m a phone booth! I used to be really important!”

“I should come back to reality now”, I thought to myself and immediately jumped into the sweet telephone booth, closed the glass door and ringed my cell number only to realize my mom speaking the other end answering that I forgot it at home

Well, it was indeed “A Walk to Remember”.

What is life without you?

Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss, and ends with a teardrop.-- Anonymous

Sometimes, nostalgia is the most beautiful thing. I was never a hardcore ruminative nostalgic being, until that day which fuelled altogether a new kind of emotion into me. For some reason or for no reason, i started recollecting memories of yours. That day, I still remember My eyes were moist, my breath was choking, I was wounded and lost, in the wilderness of her heart, and I was sitting next to her absolutely doing nothing, still i somehow felt i was doing everything . I never gave enough heed to it before thinking, but now I rue about it. It was a kind of torment for me. All those words written from her memories speak to me. All the passed moments ask why we parted ways like this! But, what is broken is broken -- and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.

I wonder in my own small myriad world, does god fall in love anytime? O! God, some day you would fall in love. - and then if your love goes apart, may be ONLY THEN; you would understand the pain of being apart. . I knew she is not around anymore…but her absence left a question on my lips…When separation was so destined– Tell me why, O! God you even made us.

Some decisions are made by love, some are made by god…What is life without her?

For some life is beautiful and for some its brutal…..What is life without her?

My days are restless..My nights are restless… Why did I remember her today ?

May be I should have believed her….why did I stay away from her?

Now that she is gone, dark and empty nights became my friends..

I have got nothing that belongs to me anymore , I don’t know how I endure each moment

All these words written from her memories speak to me. All the passed moments ask why we parted ways like this…

She says, she cannot live with me…..She also says, she cannot live without me….

I am wounded and lost……………….In the wilderness of her heart…..

Now that I have changed my path after engineering, I am not sure If i could take up math as my profession, about which I was talking in the above lines. But it would be my passion forever and ever.

Miss you M

To Blog Or Not To Blog....THAT IS THE QUESTION!!

Sometime back, I have been interviewed by a HR girl of a renowned software company. Being an experienced guy, I was presuming that I would be posed question about location preference, package etc. But, she asked me about my hobbies. “Yes….hobbies…”!! I was dumb struck for a moment as generally freshers would be posed such questions.

I said “Math, body building and blogging”! She forgot the first two and started to cling on this “blogging”. And then I was flooded with questions on blogging. “Why did you feel the need to blog? Why don’t you just write a diary?” she asked. I was a bit baffled for two reasons. One, she was really pretty (take my word guys), and my eyes stuck to hers; second, this was something I hadn’t thought about myself. I started blogging some five years ago, but I never ever got the thought of why I should start. Blogging just happened, it did not occur to me, that I have to sit and think about it, weigh the pros and cons, and then decide.

Of course, I always loved writing a diary too. It has a personal touch to it, as it is handwritten. Perhaps I wrote a “full fledged “diary up to 21 years. Later, I felt that now it is not really an appropriate time to write, I can surely say, because college is when the most exciting things happen. Mine was a typical roller coaster ride, and every event in itself could be made into a mega-serial. So what was the problem? Big big problem! What if this diary gets into the hands of wrong people ? How can they understand the situation or circumstance, and what I was thinking at that point when I jotted something down? Honestly, I don’t even mind that, but somehow or other, my diary-writing days came to a sad end. May be if any director had seen it, those pages have chance of converting them into a multi-starrer movie.

The above 2 paragraphs condensed into a couple of lines was what I told to that HR girl. She was impressed. Although the technical round was a bit challenging, yet the HR girl was impressed, and that made me happy. So, the bottom line is I am thinking, is it about blogging or is it about HR girl ?