I wonder where the love is lost
Somewhere on the way to here
from the place where we began.
We lost the thing we cherished most
the love for which this journey began.
In this mad race of life
You ran too fast and left me behind
I waited for you to turn back for me
You never did, never realized.
For some distance I could see your back
As you ran, to win god knows what
Not once did you look back
never gave me a single thought.
And now the love is forever lost
nothing will ever be the same
You won your race at the cost of love
And I'm no longer even in the frame.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
A friend in silence
Silence is my only friend
I chanced upon him at yet another bend
It took no time at all to tell
that this friend here would stay till the end.
We walked in silence, along life's road
sometimes warm, at others cold.
He kept up with me all the while
without a word,stood silently by.
When night's became too dark to see
and the days blindingly bright
My silent friend walked ahead of me
taking my hand and acting the guide.
Now all alone in this din,
where noise seems to have no end
I stand in a corner, waiting for him
My only hope, my silent friend.
I chanced upon him at yet another bend
It took no time at all to tell
that this friend here would stay till the end.
We walked in silence, along life's road
sometimes warm, at others cold.
He kept up with me all the while
without a word,stood silently by.
When night's became too dark to see
and the days blindingly bright
My silent friend walked ahead of me
taking my hand and acting the guide.
Now all alone in this din,
where noise seems to have no end
I stand in a corner, waiting for him
My only hope, my silent friend.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
III
There was still time until curfew. I drove up to my favorite coffee shop. It was at the very top of a little hillock called ‘Rajpur’; the oldest habitation in town. Mostly occupied by Tibetans now, it also housed some of the oldest residents of Dehradun. I parked right outside the coffee shop. It was a difficult place to park as it was a steep gradient. I left my car in gear and put a rock under the tire to prevent it from tumbling down the slope. I was greeted warmly by the Mr. and Mrs. Jansen. They were one of the two families of foreign immigrants in the area, who had been here since before independence. Karl and Ingrid had worked with the Red Cross in India during World War II. Once it ended, they decided to stay on.
Karl had told me his story, one evening, when I was still in school. That evening, all my friends had left ahead of me. I had stayed back; I needed to think some things through. Karl, who usually never spoke much to anyone, was sitting in a corner playing his old Harp. I had watched him play a few times before, every time mesmerized by it’s most beautifully unique notes. Away from my rowdy school friends, the musician in me decided to talk to this undiscovered prodigy. We hit it off immediately. It started off with our music. He brought out his old guitar and watched as I plucked the amateur notes.
I ended up telling him about my petty teenage issues, while he ended up sharing his World War experiences with me.
Since then, I became the only person my age, with whom Karl shared an unspoken bond. It made Ingrid happy to watch us singing and talking together. I know that for a fact because she told me so. The summer after my finals of school ended, Karl offered me a part time job at the café. I waiteressed for about two months. It never felt like work to me. I liked being there. In fact, I had been spending so much time at the cafe and had told my parents so much about the Jansen’s, that my parents invited them over for dinner. It went off beautifully. The Jansen’s had the nicest things to say about me (which left my mom beaming). And finally they were satisfied as to the kind of people I was working for.
Nothing had changed. I went straight behind the counter, to where Karl made some lattes and Ingrid grilled sandwiches. I hugged them both and started to clear the dishes from the counter. I picked up a rag from under the counter and cleaned the counter top. Karl grumbled at me, “Stop doing that! You don’t work here anymore!” I smiled and continued what I was doing. Once everything was done and every customer had been served, I sat across the counter from him. “You are not going to be able to make your curfew now. You know that right?” he asked looking serious. “Have I ever?” I smiled.
“So what now? College is over…what are you planning on doing?” he asked. “I’m in a complete fix about it myself. Mom asks me that question at every meal. I might just stop eating altogether, just so I can avoid answering it.” I replied. “Well, my advice would be that you keep doing something or the other. Keep learning. It will all help you sometime in life. You don’t necessarily have to know what you’re going to be doing when you’re fifty. You should think about what you want to do right now.” He said, trying to help me through my predicament. Somehow, he always made sense to me. “I’m still going to need some time getting my thoughts together. When college began and ended, I have no idea.” I said.
At that moment, we were joined by Ingrid. She was all smiles and as usual carried a tray of some baked good or the other that she could press me to eat. The rest of my hour passed as I shared my experiences from college with them. They enjoyed every bit, even the ones where my mother would have been uncomfortable. They accompanied me to the car. “You’ve grown so much; it’s so hard to believe.” Ingrid remarked, as she saw me get into the car. I waved goodbye to them with a promise that I would return as soon as i had the chance.
I reached home a little later than my curfew, but I knew dad would say nothing; It was just my second day home and besides, when I told my parents that I went to see the Jansen’s, they had no problem. After dinner that night, I went up to my room, turned my phone off, turned the music on and went crazy with the paints. I’m not an excellent artist, just an amateur, but sometimes, even the most artistic people, need to let go. I did just that; took the paints and just created a mess of color. By the time I was done, I felt much lighter and at ease.
Karl had told me his story, one evening, when I was still in school. That evening, all my friends had left ahead of me. I had stayed back; I needed to think some things through. Karl, who usually never spoke much to anyone, was sitting in a corner playing his old Harp. I had watched him play a few times before, every time mesmerized by it’s most beautifully unique notes. Away from my rowdy school friends, the musician in me decided to talk to this undiscovered prodigy. We hit it off immediately. It started off with our music. He brought out his old guitar and watched as I plucked the amateur notes.
I ended up telling him about my petty teenage issues, while he ended up sharing his World War experiences with me.
Since then, I became the only person my age, with whom Karl shared an unspoken bond. It made Ingrid happy to watch us singing and talking together. I know that for a fact because she told me so. The summer after my finals of school ended, Karl offered me a part time job at the café. I waiteressed for about two months. It never felt like work to me. I liked being there. In fact, I had been spending so much time at the cafe and had told my parents so much about the Jansen’s, that my parents invited them over for dinner. It went off beautifully. The Jansen’s had the nicest things to say about me (which left my mom beaming). And finally they were satisfied as to the kind of people I was working for.
Nothing had changed. I went straight behind the counter, to where Karl made some lattes and Ingrid grilled sandwiches. I hugged them both and started to clear the dishes from the counter. I picked up a rag from under the counter and cleaned the counter top. Karl grumbled at me, “Stop doing that! You don’t work here anymore!” I smiled and continued what I was doing. Once everything was done and every customer had been served, I sat across the counter from him. “You are not going to be able to make your curfew now. You know that right?” he asked looking serious. “Have I ever?” I smiled.
“So what now? College is over…what are you planning on doing?” he asked. “I’m in a complete fix about it myself. Mom asks me that question at every meal. I might just stop eating altogether, just so I can avoid answering it.” I replied. “Well, my advice would be that you keep doing something or the other. Keep learning. It will all help you sometime in life. You don’t necessarily have to know what you’re going to be doing when you’re fifty. You should think about what you want to do right now.” He said, trying to help me through my predicament. Somehow, he always made sense to me. “I’m still going to need some time getting my thoughts together. When college began and ended, I have no idea.” I said.
At that moment, we were joined by Ingrid. She was all smiles and as usual carried a tray of some baked good or the other that she could press me to eat. The rest of my hour passed as I shared my experiences from college with them. They enjoyed every bit, even the ones where my mother would have been uncomfortable. They accompanied me to the car. “You’ve grown so much; it’s so hard to believe.” Ingrid remarked, as she saw me get into the car. I waved goodbye to them with a promise that I would return as soon as i had the chance.
I reached home a little later than my curfew, but I knew dad would say nothing; It was just my second day home and besides, when I told my parents that I went to see the Jansen’s, they had no problem. After dinner that night, I went up to my room, turned my phone off, turned the music on and went crazy with the paints. I’m not an excellent artist, just an amateur, but sometimes, even the most artistic people, need to let go. I did just that; took the paints and just created a mess of color. By the time I was done, I felt much lighter and at ease.
Friday, March 12, 2010
II
My dream that night was unbelievably incoherent. They say, the human mind dreams of those things, that are running in their subconscious mind, right before they sleep. I could have so proved this theory wrong. I am pretty sure there is a limit to the number of thoughts the sub-conscious can hold at a time. Mine was a disjointed collection of ideas, incidents, thoughts and feelings. Some real, while others that were completely self-fabricated.
It began with the day I had first joined college; suddenly I was transported to my first big fight with Ayesha; all at once it was interrupted as I was being dragged away from it all by an invisible force; in the next bit I stumbled home, where everyone was happy to see me; suddenly I was back at the edge of the lake, while walking towards the back of who I figured was Noah. When he turned around, I was scared out of my wits at the monstrous face on him. That’s how I was jolted back into reality.
I lay in bed a while, troubled by my own dream. The first rays of the sun had started to peer through the gaps in the curtains. It was chilly. Against my better judgment, I decided to wake up early at least once during the time I was home. I got out of bed and drew the curtains. I had always known I lived in a most beautiful town, yet in the recent past, I had hardly taken a moment to admire it for what it really was. My room was on the first floor of the house. The window opened to a small terrace that faced the great Himalyan mountain range which surrounds the Doon valley. As I watched, a flock of some native birds rose from behind them and flew in the distance.
I put on some warmer clothes and freshened up. I could hear movement in my parents’ bedroom, and I knew at once that my father was up and about. I made him his first cup of tea for the day. I felt warm and content with everything around me and looked forward to being home for a good long period of time. I did my ritualistic cleaning that day. It began with unpacking three years worth of luggage and putting it away in the right places. Creating the space was a skill that I had acquired over the years. Over the next couple of days I cleaned the whole house from top to bottom. This annoys my mom as it makes her feel like she doesn’t do a good enough job of it. However, there was no arguing about it now that it’s become a habit.
It began with the day I had first joined college; suddenly I was transported to my first big fight with Ayesha; all at once it was interrupted as I was being dragged away from it all by an invisible force; in the next bit I stumbled home, where everyone was happy to see me; suddenly I was back at the edge of the lake, while walking towards the back of who I figured was Noah. When he turned around, I was scared out of my wits at the monstrous face on him. That’s how I was jolted back into reality.
I lay in bed a while, troubled by my own dream. The first rays of the sun had started to peer through the gaps in the curtains. It was chilly. Against my better judgment, I decided to wake up early at least once during the time I was home. I got out of bed and drew the curtains. I had always known I lived in a most beautiful town, yet in the recent past, I had hardly taken a moment to admire it for what it really was. My room was on the first floor of the house. The window opened to a small terrace that faced the great Himalyan mountain range which surrounds the Doon valley. As I watched, a flock of some native birds rose from behind them and flew in the distance.
I put on some warmer clothes and freshened up. I could hear movement in my parents’ bedroom, and I knew at once that my father was up and about. I made him his first cup of tea for the day. I felt warm and content with everything around me and looked forward to being home for a good long period of time. I did my ritualistic cleaning that day. It began with unpacking three years worth of luggage and putting it away in the right places. Creating the space was a skill that I had acquired over the years. Over the next couple of days I cleaned the whole house from top to bottom. This annoys my mom as it makes her feel like she doesn’t do a good enough job of it. However, there was no arguing about it now that it’s become a habit.
Monday, November 9, 2009
I
I sat by myself at the edge of the lake. It was a chilly evening at the beginning of October. The party was a little way off and I could hear a faint din from where the crowd was gathered. This was Misha’s 21st birthday and she had wanted it to be memorable. I had never been much of a party animal and on this particular occasion had settled upon sitting by myself at the edge of the water enjoying my solitude. The night was beautiful. I loved the way the still surface of the water reflected the moon, a perfect little ball of light. I was absorbed in my own thoughts; not quite sure what I was thinking about.
The breeze blew the chilly air around me, ruffling the fringe of my hair and I wrapped my arms around myself a little tighter. “It’s chilly out here tonight, isn’t it?”, a voice spoke from close behind me. I turned around to see who it was. Nobody I had met or been introduced to before; yet I smiled and returned my gaze to the water. The man stood there behind me. I could feel his presence and hear his breathing. After a long silence I decided it was rude of me to not invite him to join me. I turned to look at him, “why don’t you sit down?”. He smiled and took a seat next to me looking grateful.
At that precise moment the breeze took up a startling pace, spreading the chill right through my skin. I had gooseflesh. I could feel it as I rubbed my arms trying to keep warm. The stranger took off his jacket and offered it to me. I hesitated, turning to look him full in the eyes for the first time. They were a misty grey, a little difficult to decipher. For a long moment I couldn’t break the sudden eye contact. I was jerked into the present as the man started to drape the jacket around my shoulders. My cheeks flushed red as I realized how evidently I had been immersed in this stranger’s eyes. I thanked him and looked away towards the water.
He must’ve seen how flustered I looked because he said, “I’m Noah, by the way.” Finally having gathered myself I returned my gaze confidently to him and replied, “My name is Aditi.” After another long pause he said, “Don’t you just love how the moonlight reflects off the still water?” I held my breath for a moment, not knowing what I could say. Now I have encountered a few guys through the course of my life and believe you me , I have never heard anyone of them make such a profound observation to me , let alone to a complete stranger. I settled on an inaudible mumble and returned to my water-gazing activity.
We must’ve been sitting in silence for a little over ten minutes. I was starting to feel a little awkward about the silence with him sitting next to me. My moment of solitude seemed long gone and I decided to give it up all together. “So Noah, where do you hail from. ..definitely not India.” He smiled. His eyes still fixed on the water. “What? What’s so funny?” He turned to look me full in the face, the smile still lingering on his lips, “Is it necessary to look like an Indian, in order to be considered one?” I felt the heat rise up my neck and looked away.“I’m originally from Sweden but I’ve spent a major part of my life here in this beautiful country. I consider myself Indian, if that helps you understand what I meant before.” I looked at him and he smiled sweetly at me.
“So how come you’ve been here for so long?” I asked. “I could go back tonight if you’d like!” he teased. I laughed. “You can stay till the party ends at least, you’re the only one with whom I’ve had sane conversation this evening.” He turned to look at where the party was in full fervor, “they are all pretty wasted, aren’t they?” he said, looking amused. I couldn’t help the smile that crept onto my own lips, his smile was contagious. “It’s funny how people act when they’re this drunk. You should’ve seen how Sid wouldn’t let Misha away from his sight, not even to visit the loo. She had to sit with him until he got into a squabble with the guy at the next table, so she could sneak away to take a leak.It was hilarious!” I said.
“So you yourself stay sober and have all the fun; while the poor drunk bastards make fools of themselves, for your benefit?” he laughed. “Yeah, that’s about how it usually goes. I haven’t seen you act up though. Don’t you drink?” I asked, beginning to get a little curious about him now. “Nah..I like to face life while I’m completely in my senses. I’m not denying that I haven’t had alcohol before. I’m just not fond of it.” he replied. I was surprised. Since the time we had reached this place last evening, all my friends had been constantly tipsy. Seemed like alcohol was all that they cared about, even in this beautiful place. I started to drift into my own thoughts until he interrupted saying, “so you are a friend of Misha’s I presume? Sid has never mentioned an Aditi to me before.” “Yes, Misha and I have been roomies all through college.” I replied.
Another short silence but not as uncomfortable as the first one. I had never seen such a beautiful place. The lake with the trees all around. The water shimmered like a gazillion diamonds. “I wonder who owns this cottage where we’re staying. I’d marry him tonight just to be able to live here.” I joked. Noah remained quiet. I turned to look at him and he was smiling broadly to himself staring at me. “What?” I asked a little offended. “You’re more than welcome to use this place anytime you’d like and you wouldn’t have to marry Kunal for it.” He said, his smile broader than before. I was embarrassed at how tactlessly I had spoken my mind to this guy. He laughed with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Aditi…Misha is about to cut the cake and she is waiting for you..come on!” came a scream from the party tent. “I’d better go before she gets into another drunken fit of idiocy.” I got up to leave. “Hey! Are you planning on going for a walk around the lake after dinner? I could show you around, if you’d like..” he looked at me with raised eyebrows and a hint of nervousness about him. I just smiled and turned to leave. His gaze followed me till I reached the tent. I know that for a fact because I turned to look at him too.
I hugged Misha as I reached her. She was drunk and had tears in her eyes “,you’re my best friend you know” she said. “Go on honey..time to cut the cake.” I said brightly, trying to cheer her up. She smiled through her tears as I helped her direct the knife to the right place. Silly as she was, she was still my best friend and I loved her. I was full of happiness that night, for her or myself or for the world in general, I wasn’t sure..but I was happy for sure. The rest of the evening remained uneventful or maybe that’s only what I thought because my mind kept wandering back to the edge of the lake.
The breeze blew the chilly air around me, ruffling the fringe of my hair and I wrapped my arms around myself a little tighter. “It’s chilly out here tonight, isn’t it?”, a voice spoke from close behind me. I turned around to see who it was. Nobody I had met or been introduced to before; yet I smiled and returned my gaze to the water. The man stood there behind me. I could feel his presence and hear his breathing. After a long silence I decided it was rude of me to not invite him to join me. I turned to look at him, “why don’t you sit down?”. He smiled and took a seat next to me looking grateful.
At that precise moment the breeze took up a startling pace, spreading the chill right through my skin. I had gooseflesh. I could feel it as I rubbed my arms trying to keep warm. The stranger took off his jacket and offered it to me. I hesitated, turning to look him full in the eyes for the first time. They were a misty grey, a little difficult to decipher. For a long moment I couldn’t break the sudden eye contact. I was jerked into the present as the man started to drape the jacket around my shoulders. My cheeks flushed red as I realized how evidently I had been immersed in this stranger’s eyes. I thanked him and looked away towards the water.
He must’ve seen how flustered I looked because he said, “I’m Noah, by the way.” Finally having gathered myself I returned my gaze confidently to him and replied, “My name is Aditi.” After another long pause he said, “Don’t you just love how the moonlight reflects off the still water?” I held my breath for a moment, not knowing what I could say. Now I have encountered a few guys through the course of my life and believe you me , I have never heard anyone of them make such a profound observation to me , let alone to a complete stranger. I settled on an inaudible mumble and returned to my water-gazing activity.
We must’ve been sitting in silence for a little over ten minutes. I was starting to feel a little awkward about the silence with him sitting next to me. My moment of solitude seemed long gone and I decided to give it up all together. “So Noah, where do you hail from. ..definitely not India.” He smiled. His eyes still fixed on the water. “What? What’s so funny?” He turned to look me full in the face, the smile still lingering on his lips, “Is it necessary to look like an Indian, in order to be considered one?” I felt the heat rise up my neck and looked away.“I’m originally from Sweden but I’ve spent a major part of my life here in this beautiful country. I consider myself Indian, if that helps you understand what I meant before.” I looked at him and he smiled sweetly at me.
“So how come you’ve been here for so long?” I asked. “I could go back tonight if you’d like!” he teased. I laughed. “You can stay till the party ends at least, you’re the only one with whom I’ve had sane conversation this evening.” He turned to look at where the party was in full fervor, “they are all pretty wasted, aren’t they?” he said, looking amused. I couldn’t help the smile that crept onto my own lips, his smile was contagious. “It’s funny how people act when they’re this drunk. You should’ve seen how Sid wouldn’t let Misha away from his sight, not even to visit the loo. She had to sit with him until he got into a squabble with the guy at the next table, so she could sneak away to take a leak.It was hilarious!” I said.
“So you yourself stay sober and have all the fun; while the poor drunk bastards make fools of themselves, for your benefit?” he laughed. “Yeah, that’s about how it usually goes. I haven’t seen you act up though. Don’t you drink?” I asked, beginning to get a little curious about him now. “Nah..I like to face life while I’m completely in my senses. I’m not denying that I haven’t had alcohol before. I’m just not fond of it.” he replied. I was surprised. Since the time we had reached this place last evening, all my friends had been constantly tipsy. Seemed like alcohol was all that they cared about, even in this beautiful place. I started to drift into my own thoughts until he interrupted saying, “so you are a friend of Misha’s I presume? Sid has never mentioned an Aditi to me before.” “Yes, Misha and I have been roomies all through college.” I replied.
Another short silence but not as uncomfortable as the first one. I had never seen such a beautiful place. The lake with the trees all around. The water shimmered like a gazillion diamonds. “I wonder who owns this cottage where we’re staying. I’d marry him tonight just to be able to live here.” I joked. Noah remained quiet. I turned to look at him and he was smiling broadly to himself staring at me. “What?” I asked a little offended. “You’re more than welcome to use this place anytime you’d like and you wouldn’t have to marry Kunal for it.” He said, his smile broader than before. I was embarrassed at how tactlessly I had spoken my mind to this guy. He laughed with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Aditi…Misha is about to cut the cake and she is waiting for you..come on!” came a scream from the party tent. “I’d better go before she gets into another drunken fit of idiocy.” I got up to leave. “Hey! Are you planning on going for a walk around the lake after dinner? I could show you around, if you’d like..” he looked at me with raised eyebrows and a hint of nervousness about him. I just smiled and turned to leave. His gaze followed me till I reached the tent. I know that for a fact because I turned to look at him too.
I hugged Misha as I reached her. She was drunk and had tears in her eyes “,you’re my best friend you know” she said. “Go on honey..time to cut the cake.” I said brightly, trying to cheer her up. She smiled through her tears as I helped her direct the knife to the right place. Silly as she was, she was still my best friend and I loved her. I was full of happiness that night, for her or myself or for the world in general, I wasn’t sure..but I was happy for sure. The rest of the evening remained uneventful or maybe that’s only what I thought because my mind kept wandering back to the edge of the lake.
In search of me
Everything is wrong, I don’t know where I am
What I want to be or where, I don’t understand.
At five years of age I wanted to be a farmer
But that dream is long forgotten.
At 10 it was an astronomer,
I still think about it often.
At 15 that dream turned to an author
I wrote all that I could,
Only to realize it was immature,
I would never be as good as I should.
I dreamt of making the world a better place,
Worked for the environment,
Tried to clear the mess we made
But I wasn’t strong enough to stop things from going where they went.
At 18 I liked studying accounts
Maybe that’s what I’d do in life
I could work with accounts.
Life changed course , I lost all control
I was standing in the middle of the crowd, clueless as to which way I should go.
I found myself in college studying English
Aspiring once again to become what I thought I could never be
I’m graduating this year
That time has finally come
I have to make a decision and I am starting right where I begun.
I wish I could be a farmer , I know that might never be.
I watch the stars almost every night , but that dream is so far it’s hard to believe.
I still want to be an author, I’m just not sure if that’s for me.
I want to work for the world, a cause I never gave up
Only problem is , my own life is so messed up.
As I start to think about all the things that I have ever wanted to be
I think back and realize there is only one thing that was with me constantly.
The music stayed within me , I sang and played all along.
The longest that my memory goes back
I realize , it was the music that was always with me.
It’s what I always wanted it’s exactly what I should be.
This is who I always was , the music is in me.
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