To mush and love, again :) - Introducing Sreelekha in R&Y series

The book lay on my bed. While I flipped through it, I noticed most of the characters were people I was not supposed to meet in the regular course of life. I had knocked the doors of strangers and made friends out of them. Yatharth was one such person who I had met ten years ago.

I was an energetic teenager, who viewed life with rose tinted glasses. I loved to read poetry and write sad love stories. However, it was wit, humour and sarcasm that I enjoyed reading. I had noticed two colunmists who wrote for the 'Jagriti' (the daily English Paper). I used to supply Jagriti with love stories which they published on Sunday supplement. One day, when I had gone to Jagriti's office to collect my remuneration, out of no where I asked the receptionist if I could meet either of the two writers. That was how I met Yatharth. We sat down in the cafeteria and he ordered coffee for me. I felt like a writer in the offing, already being interviewed by celebrated columnists. He gave me his card when I got up to leave. I had wondered if it would be correct to offer to pay for the coffee. Then I decided it was unlady like. I left him with a smile. It was the beginning of many such meetings. I was like the Kareena Kapoor in Ek Mei aur ek tu, who was just out of one relationship and did not want another relationship, but she wanted a friend. It's a typical immature girl syndrome where a girl         wants to be just FRIENDS with a guy. If I had had read Chetan Bhagat's Two States then ( which I couldn't have since he hadn't written it at that point of time) I could have dispensed my idea of a boy becoming a best friend to a girl. But as luck would have it, it was not Bhagat but Kuch Kuch Hota hai, that was doing rounds at that time. And it was fashionable to have platonic relationship. Yes, your friend was allowed to have a crush on you, and you were allowed to enjoy the special attention he would shower till you kept reminding him that of course we are just friends!

I did not realize when Yatharth fell in love with me. But I knew from the beginning that I was a special friend. I liked being his special friend. But love happened. And unfortunately I was not in love. Although I admit I deeply cared for Yatharth. Our friendship kind of survived his going down on his knees but it got a little complicated and we finally had to accept that we had to move on.

Why a girl needs a best friend

Tring ...tring..

Coffee khana joom? (lts catch up for a cup of coffee?)

Life used to be just that simple. Your best friend used to be just one phone call away. All you needed was to buzz and then rush to the nearest coffee joint. Then whether it was a small nagging problem about a lover who hadn't replied to your last email or your extended family pestering your mom to get you married off or your dad annoying you for spending a bomb, you could vent it out on your best friend.

Now, now, I agree problems do not remain the same. The lover either disappears or becomes your spouse ;) (depending on how your love story came to an end -either way), needless to say you have been married for quite some time and your dad is happy you don't rip him off any more. But your mind  becomes adept at piling itself with woes. Now that you are not the carefree bird you were, you review things, you cling to the past, and you bother about people who you dislike. Why does one end up giving so much of mind share to people who make us unhappy! It is mostly because in the adult world, we are not given a chance to speak our blunt mind out. You smile and greet every damn person who pisses you off when you try to fall asleep in the wee hours of night. Why is there no outlet to express anger?

Why is there anger in the first place? Because things are getting piled up. You need a best friend who will give you not just her ear but a handy broom to clean yourself :)

I miss you Annie.

Melody and moon | Editorial | :: The Kathmandu Post ::

Melody and moon | Editorial | :: The Kathmandu Post ::

Writer at twenty-two | Editorial | :: The Kathmandu Post ::

Writer at twenty-two | Editorial | :: The Kathmandu Post ::

on Linus and being married

It never occurred that I should be married until I got! Life is an interesting platter, you will not miss out on a particular flavour until you taste it. Linus has ceased to be some one else. I no more think of him as another person, he has become a part of life. I did not exactly fall in love with him, rather I could not help not falling in love with him. He charmed me with his simplicity, honesty and most importantly capacity to accept eccentricity (coming from me of course!). 

Ahem, I am going to read this out to him now. :)

Happy wedding anniversary sweets.

Stereotyped

Linus tells me I must write something that is completely non mushy, unless I am to be stereotyped as you  know what - a diehard romantic. So let me try a shot at something different tonight.

I close my eyes, a cup of cappuccino that I had yesterday at The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf fills my senses. It would again grow up into some romantic prose, or so I think and open my eyes again. But here I must interrupt to tell you that I quite enjoyed my own company over the wonderful cappuccino with cinnamon and mocha. I realize that it is not solitude that is difficult, it is the secret hope of togetherness that you nurture which brings the pain. So, if you forget about someone else and give yourself a treat, it turns out to be lovely. I have now begun to enjoy shopping alone (solitary shopping should work well with women and importantly with their spouses). However, since I never was a shopper per se, I have had to deal with several instances of returning the merchandise this time.

Should I write about how the returning an item after purchase goes? I recently returned two pairs of foot wear, (one at a time), a night wear, M's dresses (those for size issues), a tunic from a boutique (whose owner was very  rude because I  asked  for  refund since  she  gave me a defective piece). It makes me think if I had been shopping at an astrologically wrong time. So, may be my next post can be about   the adventures of the Solo Shopper! And definitely a review on all the customer services.

Goodnight.

Randomness

Diamond..

Eternal love, he promised...
It was a big diamond :)
Not 10 carats but almost 2 :)

He was up to some good  work
"Duty"kar rahe hai..
Madam is a little off
He forgot their anniversary

Googling for ways to send the valentine gift
long distance doesn't offer chance to kiss and make up
Choclates, he knitted his brows...
Girls! he gasped..

Randomly picking up threads from Reena's diary

"Lonely, Mr. Lonely"... the song got stuck in her mind. It was a pleasant walk in the evening and she kept humming to herself. Walking alone, isn't bad afterall, she thought. Why are we so put off by being with our own selves. Why do we need someone at all? Can't we be our own best friends? A train of such thoughts ran through her mind. 

She had come to think of Kolkata, as her own city now. But how limited view she took of her own city. It was true that she could mentally map few locations and knew how to plan her route considering the city changed its traffic after one in the afternoon. But living in Kolkata, without Yatharth was a little like a monologue. For her all the days of the week were same. Even the change in the calendar's page was not noticeable. It did not matter really, perhaps. Life was like one song put on a repeat loop. It kept playing and playing and she wouldn't realize.

Like a scar perhaps. He had stayed on her mind. A scar of a wound that has healed a long back. That doesn't bring back the pain, but exists as a gentle reminder that it's afterall a part of you. She wondered if he thought of her at all. And if he did, what was it? She could never be in his shoes. No one can be in someone else's shoes... It is futile to attempt it.

After a long time, Reena was thinking about herself. She had lost her wajood somewhere. Or simply forgot where she had last seen it. Wajood, an Urdu word, can loosely be translated as existence. She still loved the way Urdu rolled on her tongue. What else did she still love? Walks ... The weather of Kolkata gave her a splendid opportunity to take a beginning  February walks. But where is the space to walk. The pavements if at all there are, are either dug up or taken up by makeshift homes or chai wallas. 

She would reach home after the next turn. Home? A place, where there is no loneliness. She probably found it silly to admit even to herself, but she missed Yatharth badly...

Cya soon Yath :)

why don't you comment, if you read :)

I have been reading a few of my own posts. Those that had a comment or two. It is so good to get a response. I think an artist thrives on it. So, I am in mood- why those comments were written years ago, you might point out. But well, they have lifted my spirits. And you know, who knows who might drop in today to read me :)

I sit and smile as my fingers dance all over the keyboard. Its fascinating how well these fingers run in sync with my thoughts. I should dedicate my book, when i happen to write one to these beautiful fingers :)

Ofcourse there are lot of people who egg me to write... DAD and LINUs... they pester me :) and guess what they hardly read my blog. Hmm, I have mostly  anonymous readers.  Let me write about anonymity? Kidding :)


where should i dig my words from?
from the land where i roam in my dreams?
or should i dig myself up
to find a poetry?


I recently  read an ad about a gold plated rose. A perfect gift for coming V day, the ad said. I wouldn't buy one , I know... It has no material use, you see! Does that mean I am not romantic? I am analysing myself after ages. Is it fun to analyze? It is rigorous though.

I have got a very pretty hair cut... It cost me a bomb :) 700 bucks for a  cut, especially when you are a writer still in coccoon....well... i am not just going to be a writer... whats my dream now...


Neeta Ambani....the socialite
Rekha....the sensuous
Vidwata...the witty, charming writer :)