Rant #1

It took me 7180 miles away from you to think clearly. This is a different world altogether. We are an unimaginable distance apart. We cannot reach each other at a moment’s or even a day’s notice. Still too young to earn enough money to travel impulsively; oddly, old enough to nurture such strong feelings. I can hardly recall the details of your facial features. Distance should not blur memories. But, does it?

It seems like a long time ago when we were carefree and had all the time in the world for each other. We would kill hours deciding on how to waste the next few ones! Good times. Those times still don’t fail to bring a faint laughter within, which dies soon after. This city literally never sleeps. Buzzing with life. There is not much here which reminds me of you. I have begun to think that it might be the ‘places’ which made me fall in love with you. I wonder if it would feel the same if I had gone out with somebody else to all those places you took me to.

I still find those hazy memories giving me a heartache. And sometimes, even a headache! But I am proud of myself for not ruining my self-respect. The moments of recalling you are becoming less frequent. Thankfully so, I believe. You seem imaginary because of such geographical distance between us. It’s a strange feeling. Unknown. I feel lost sometimes. Disoriented. I see the goals others have etched out for me. I am still unclear about what I want.

Am I at fault for not being too ambitious? is the purpose of life, ambition? I am constantly made to feel how lucky I am to have come here. To have got an opportunity to learn here. Am I bad person if I want to let this all go and come back? This doesn’t feel home. This doesn’t smell like home. These people don’t consider me as one of the friends. The simmering dislike inside them for me is almost tangible. How can it make me feel any good?

Everything appears changed. A familiar colour of skin here and there, a rare fume of spices somewhere is what keeps me hopeful. I shall do my best, capture every good thing that this city has to offer and come back to you. I keep forgetting there is no ‘you’ anymore in my life. And there was never an ‘us’. Would it be worse to be back and find out that the place has become significantly tormenting? Maybe staying here offers an illusionary comfort of having a home back there. Where I was, with you. That could keep my hope alive. A life in a dream bubble is what I opt for.

Oh look, rain! My pages have their ink smudged. There are blots on the paper. Much like my memories of you. It continues to rain in this cold. And the ‘city-which-never-sleeps’ is digging its sharp cold deep claws in me.

No defence against memories

“Quick! Quick! Let me get you dressed! Come here you! Arghh…”. His wife shouted at the kids.

They had come to visit London, with family. Four years of marriage and this was their first trip abroad so the level of excitement was one notch upper than the usual. He had a conference to attend there and thought that a family trip would do some good to the daily argumentative routine. Today was the day for shopping. They were supposed to go to Oxford Street. He just could not resist the thought he was avoiding since the moment he landed at Heathrow- the thought of the girl from his past who he loved dearly. And who loved him back with the same intensity. He finally let the barricades of morality break open, in his head.

He clearly remembered her address- #4, 51 Hill Street, London W1J 6SW (he used her address to tell her all the nearest stores and other details she wanted to know! Not that she could not do it herself but just because he liked doing it for her and she let him do it). He abruptly blurted out, “I got to go”. The wife was busy dressing up the kids and hearing this, she suddenly stopped- “what? Why? Where?” He reassured her, “I will meet you directly at the oxford street, in two hours. There is an urgent meeting at my office before leaving London”. She reluctantly agreed.

He took a cab and gave the driver the address which he had remembered since seven years. Although the cab was supposed to drop him straight at the address, he asked the cab driver to drop him at the green park underground station. He would walk! Getting out of the cab, he saw The Ritz. A faint laughter rose within him. This is what she used to be so excited about! She was such a movie-buff; saw Notting Hill once and wanted to come here with him and stay for a day! He fed the address into his Maps-app and set out. It was supposed to be an eight minute walk. He remembered the names of the streets. Stratton Street; then left to Berkeley square, then straight to Hill Street. She used to prattle the names of these streets whenever she was returning from college. That was time they usually were on phone and he used to be distracted with some little things of his own, yet it came as a surprise when he recognised those streets by name. 

Upon reaching Berkeley square, he glanced around- had something changed? He wouldn’t know. He could smell patisseries and panini though. He couldn’t remember if she had ever described that. Unexpectedly his throat choked- she used to walk by these streets every day! She used to blabber, sometimes describing the beauty and the gloominess at the same time- much like her. He found himself standing below the building labeled 51. How he had wanted to come there while she lived here. How they both had shared dreams of living in that house. How they had imagined making sweet love together in that room whose window, he saw, was open right now. He started to weep silently. 

He collected himself after five minutes and pushed the bell for flat number four. There was no answer. He pressed it again. He believed he would find something in her old house to calm him down. To transport him into the past. Where her scent was the only sweet fragrance he could recognise. He now marveled at her description of this place. He could now understand her mood swings and constant complaints regarding the weather. It really could get gloomy in here! His thoughts were interrupted by a voice from the door-camera. “Who is it?” No, he was NOT prepared for this. He blurted out, "Sorry, wrong floor!" 

He decided that he liked her version of the house better. He had not thought about how alien or familiar the house might seem, from inside. He loved her. He loved her in a way nobody had. She had meant everything to him once. He often used to tell her how beautiful she was. She used to playfully respond that he was biased but that never failed to make her blush. They were so lost when they were talking to each other on phone that they never could keep a track of time. They never got tired of each other’s company, bored of each other’s humour. They pushed each other’s limits and it made them broaden their horizons towards life. Both of them thought that the other one is a better person and the respect and love only grew with time and distance. It was a fairy tale. Until she came back to India, where he was.

He decided to block her from his mind, the disappointing and unhappy memories. She would always be that beautiful girl for him- who didn’t like to be called a little kid, the one who had big eyes, one who would imitate his lame guy friends and make him laugh, one who would fight with him because he could not stay awake to talk her, one who was scared of his mom, and who could never see him upset and be passive about it. If anybody would have asked him, his only regret in life would be not to have expressed his love to her the way she deserved. The things he felt, the beautiful moments he lived everyday never could come out in the form of words. It was never for one moment that his feelings were in any way inferior to hers. The difference lied in the total expression of them.

He decided to walk back. This time through the Park Lane, where she always used to get confused whether to stand and look at the beautiful swans at the Hyde Park or to stare at the swanky cars which passed by. “It really is tough to decide”, the thought amused him!

He was walking to Oxford Street, her favourite hang-out, where now his wife and kids were waiting for him to come.

Never Change.

On the last day of school, I still remember, each of us wrote messages for each other on their respective white uniform shirts. It is still a tradition everywhere. Usually, the messages were same on everybody’s shirts- “You’re the most caring, sharing, friendly, sweetest, cutest (wtf!), bubbly….(blaaah blah) friend of mine! Keep smiling for EVA and NEVA change!” or “Be the way you are!”

Now, I don’t mean to emphasise on the innovative grammatical wonders here. The last line always struck me as plain stupid (not commenting anything on the indigenous works of praise in the earlier sentence). Why would I change? Of course situations would change, but why would I? Why would anybody say this? Years later, or let’s say a number of failures, horrors and heartbreaks later, today I woke up to find myself to be a completely different person! I had become defensive, intolerant of people, judgmental, and vengeful. I was no more the person everybody knew me as. I had started jumping to conclusions very fast. I was past the phase when bad experiences make people patient and more mature. I attempted to re-trace the path of my ‘psyche-evolution’ (or degeneration). I recall having to make choices in certain situations I would never have made otherwise. I remember resorting to certain actions which were not ethical/ moral according to my ‘older self’. I had always believed in myself and had made certain principles in my life. I was a strong person who never altered herself for something insignificant or adverse. How did THIS happen then?

There comes a time when one faces a dilemma. It grows on to become a fierce internal conflict. I don’t mean that we should not be flexible to changes for ‘good’ but the changes which arise out of negative emotions such as revenge, jealousy, hatred are highly undesirable and corrosive. Suddenly, it struck me. I had succumbed to my own devil. I failed to keep my actions in check. Obviously, certain extraordinary situations had caused the conflict but for how long would I blame the externalities? Every single time I had blamed the circumstances and the people who initiated them. That would be comforting in the virtual sense and I’d move on, becoming a crueler person in the process. 

In reality, it robbed me off my peace of mind. Day and night, I began to be haunted by thoughts of somebody watching over all these actions of mine. I led myself to believe that even my own thoughts were being watched and controlled, it was giving myself away to the ‘devil’ completely. I was ‘happy’ as long as I was getting whatever I wanted. Today I asked myself, “Did I really GET anything I wanted?” the answer was evident; evident by my recent past- NO! I had nothing which truly made me happy.

So, I dragged my heavy feet, but a firm mind, to my almirah. There are certain defining moments in one’s life when you know- This-Is-It! I had realised that being oneself was tougher than anything else, ‘staying the same’ seemed an impossible goal, given the horrors of the world, but I would do it! I would not lose hope. I would Love. Love unconditionally. Live freely in the true sense. No ghosts from the past. No burden of my negative thoughts. Only a determination to make everything right. I dug out that old shirt and pinned it on my wall.

It read in different colours- “We love you Charu. Keep smiling. NEVA CHANGE!” :-)

Every “Teddy Bear” has a story….

How many of us really know the people around us? Or TRY to know them? Do we know their background? Their origin? The story which has shaped them up? The “teddy-bear” which some of my dainty girl-‘friends’ sleep with, each night, has a political origin. Theodore (Teddy) Roosevelt, the 26th president of the United States, is the person responsible for giving the teddy bear his name. How many of us knew this? How many of us TRIED to find out? 

A fast-paced world where one has to be either a Rakhi Sawant or an Osama Bin Laden to expect our attention, doesn’t really motivate us enough to look for extraordinary tales around us. Look around, every person has a story to tell. There’s always more to it than it seems (us girls have this annoying habit to think this way, I know!). 

I try to read people. It is strangely appealing to ‘read’ them rather than ‘judge’ them. People sometimes, can be walking-talking books. Like pieces of literature open to debates in our minds. Some of them are fairly simple to read. Some of them are complex enough to rattle your brains while you try to understand them. There are characters within characters. It’s a feeling of achievement when I peel off one layer at a time, closer to the core. Sorry, I got carried away. But zooming out, I see people around me as sources of knowledge. Knowledge about their lives gives me a fair idea about my own. I make mental notes and graphs of the course of lives they’re leading. I smile to myself when random lines evolves into patterns and I can extrapolate them. 

One can’t look into his/her own future but can learn a lot from others’ past. Try observing people more. Try to think of the situations which might have led to certain behaviour in them. It’s a game for me- a very intriguing one! I am no psychiatrist or psychologist. It is out of my free will. The better I get at it, the better I understand myself. The aim is, to gain enough knowledge about others’ behaviour to view one’s life in an objective light. The aim is- to learn to laugh at it…..to move on…

MEN- Necessary Evil?

Being in an all-girls college has changed the way I perceived myself. It gave me a new identity. Introducing my new path-breaking, convention-defying theory- the THEORY OF THE LOST SPECIES. Main assumption in our theory is the complete absence of male species from a girls’ college (which includes lack of male teachers as well). Although, we distinguish its relevance to engineering institutes.

In such a case, girls involuntarily, un-intentionally and un-knowingly get divided into two different categories- BOYFRIEND girls and GIRLFRIEND girls (BG and GG from now on). Now, before your minds wander tangentially far away from my main theory into a world of homosexuality, let me make this clear- BG are equally feminine! They do not cut their hair short or fight other guys (or BGs) like guys. BGs usually are the kind who attracts maximum female attention (in a positive way, for a change). But despite this fact, BG finds that one GG who she wants to hang out with. It’s BG’s prerogative to make her GG laugh, support her, make her feel special, assure her that she’ll be around when GG starts having doubts about BG’s whereabouts, protecting her and fighting for her. GG is the sweeter one among the two- taking care of BG, scolding her for little things, reminding her of the beautiful things in life and cheering the BG up with a smile.

When exposed to the sudden eye-dazzling presence of Males, these categories, without any palpable change, metamorphose into a homogenous species signifying Beauty, Charm, Tenderness and Mystery- Girls.

Us, Girls. J

Post- ‘Post’- The Theory of Lack of Species will be used for further analysis in the later posts!

Les mathématiques de la vie

Mathematics has always inspired me. For clarification, I am not exactly a huge fan of mathematics as a subject but it has always given me food for thought. You see, I find ironies of life in mathematical topics. For e.g.- Calculus. Now, for me Integration was always tougher than Differentiation. Isn't that true for all of us in real life? Isn't it easier for us to throw someone out of our lives than to forgive them and kept them woven in the web of our lives? Integration on the other hand, requires a deeper 'understanding' as it is considered to be 'tougher'.

When we look further we find other such topics like- Degrees of freedom. It was a mathematical concept in my first year of college. Now, it got me thinking. Are we really free? If yes, then what defines the extent of freedom? Or is it absolute? What factors affect our 'degrees' of freedom? Last and the important being- Algebra. The Variables, the Constants. Some things are 'axioms' in real life and some, we 'derive', based on the given facts.

So, exactly how far can life be equated to mathematical concepts? How many times do we add and subtract people from our lives? I'm leaving you all with a mathematical home-work (yeah yeah, I know! dont give me those looks now!). Think about mathematical concepts as the weird lessons of life because of the obvious similarity- we neither understand maths, nor are we able to comprehend Life. :-)

The Color of Love.

A peculiar thought ‘fought’ its way into my mind. It had to ‘fight’ because there are so many of them crowding my head. So now that it’s here, I wonder, if life could be expressed in colours, what exactly would be the colour of Love?

For me, it started with PINK. The softness, warmth and the Dream. A colour which only attracted, never repelled. It represented that nothing bad lurks behind, only the sweet truth- a bright PINK for happiness and a dull PINK for coziness. For Him too, it started with PINK. This colour, for him, was a new world altogether. It spelt tenderness and care, far away from his BLUE and BROWN life. A completely vulnerable and nascent side of him was revealed to me. There was PINK everywhere. PINK thoughts, PINK talks. Given the kind of person I am, excess of PINK repels me but this PINK induced a lovely subtle aroma every time I saw him.

Days and months went by and the colour started to deepen. It changed to RED. Things were not dreamy anymore. The sweet hesitation of PINK was gone. RED had taken its place. The crests and troughs of emotions started defining the bond. The gamut of feelings was no longer just part of our lives; it was all we cared about. People say that Love is everywhere- family, friends, everyone! Then, I ask, what makes this particular person’s Love so special? It might be the exclusive nature of his/her affection for you and according to me, RED aptly denoted this possessiveness, or rather, exclusivity. RED is a strong colour. Any other colour does not capture one’s mind so much. I used to believe our little relationship had now been nurtured into something strong and dependable. For me, the RED phase was still RED, but for him, RED had changed to BROWN. 

BROWN, in which he tried hard to locate RED but all he ever saw was a hint of RED hidden somewhere. His BROWN became so dark that one couldn’t say if it ever WAS RED. As for me, it was still RED. Now, my RED started having doubts about his colour when his coldness and indifference revealed their cruel form. I never realised the transition of his phases, I was THAT drenched in RED.

Later, when my RED started fading because of his BROWN’s influence and began to take the colour of RUSTY RED. I asked him, “Do you Love me?”. He wasn’t expecting this, but probably secretly wishing this question to come up. He remained silent. After several long…..long moments, he finally uttered, “I Don’t Know”. What I heard (interpreted) was “NO”, as for me either it was a RED or a BLACK. There was no place whatsoever for BROWN.

I thanked him for giving me some unforgettable memories. In that one moment, all PINK, RED, BROWN turned PITCH BLACK. Not dark brown, not dark grey, only BLACK. This ‘colourful’ story didn’t end here. My life continued to be BLACK for months. Long days and even lengthier nights. A new dawn never brought hope for me. I was directionless, purposeless, disillusioned, in short- BLACK. I longed to dispel this darkness which existed within me. BLACK is nothingness- when you absorb everything but reflect nothing back. I used to see, hear, smell, feel, taste but stopped reacting to any of it.

(After 11.5 months)

I endorse the saying that ‘Time heals all’. My colour, very slowly, turned to GREY and eventually to WHITE. I am now at peace with myself. There is light everywhere now. I have so many directions to take, so many decisions to make.

The good thing now is that now I am ready to take on another colour. This WHITE canvas is again ready to be painted PINK! ;-)

Don't Misunderstand the Misunderstandings

Somethings are better judged by actions. Miscommunication sometimes leads to obnoxious interpretations and even more weird directions. The other day I met a friend's boyfriend. Now, this Mr Kid had just started a website which was about the un-common and un-noticed achievers. About the common people with not-so-common stories. The subject was light and caught my interest. I took down the web address and as soon as I got home, I sat down to surf the net. As I clicked 'GO' on my browser, the website appeared. NO! It wasn't what I'd thought! It was a PEST-Control help site! I tried it again. Same result.

I scrolled down hoping to find something else. I found names of the following 'helpful' sites- guardianpestcontrol.com, insectimages.org, epestssupply.com, doyourownpestcontrol.com. I mean who names sites like these? insect images.com? Why would someone already flooded with pests in their house ever want to see that site? E-pestssupply.com? Do we need more of those bugs in our homes? What do these guys think we do with them? Feed them? Provide them with amusement? Why would we want a supply of those pests? And do-your-own-pest-control.com? Seriously? Can the pest-control guys BE more annoying? Or probably all these pest control people are sadists who take pleasure when the creepy-crawlies scare the hell out of folks like us. These are real websites, mind you, I haven't made these up. So, while I shuddered at the thought of a cockroach crawling up my leg, the ringtone of my phone startled me! It was that friend! I spared no abuse! Then she asked me, "Which site did you visit?". I sent her the link and waited for her apology. She called me back, laughing! "Charu, you never did put the hyphen between the two words!" I hung up that very second. Could that be possible? Did I......YES! I had! :'(

Some misunderstandings, thankfully, aren't as dreadful. Last night I was returning from an incomplete (due to cold) long walk.

The number of calories I had burnt were demanding revenge, each one wanting to replace itself with a hundred more! What could I do? So my wandering eyes (for food, in this particular case ;-) ) halted at a dimly lit chowmein-thela. There it was, in shivering cold, a quantum of solace. I hurried on to the thela and politely between bouts of uncontrollable shiver, I told him, "Bhaiya, dus rupaye ki chowmein de dijiye please". The man looked up at me, his eyes locked with mine for 2 seconds and then he went back to making his speciality. The first round of steaming hot noodles was ready. He served a few other of his hungry customers waiting there. There was a strange-looking policeman standing there who was staring at my i-Pod continuously. I did not appreciate his stare, not one bit!

I was hoping to snatch the next plate of chowmein for myself when I saw that it was finished. What was that now! It really put me off. The guy didn't even look at me and mumbled loud enough for me to hear, "Bana rahe hain madam apke liye." I cursed him under my breath and waited. He had served every single of his customers, only I was left. Nonetheless, I was a Fighter and my Fat Layer, a Survivor! I felt odd standing there alone and I complained, "Bhaiya aap chhod do, mujhe der ho rahi hai, main jaa rahi hun." He, for the second time now looked at me, "Madam ban gaya hai ab, kha lijiye." I could smell the food, nice! I thought now he'd serve; but he left his thela calling after some Chhotu! That pissed me off, badly! I was standing there and he left the thela? I was so annoyed that I actually waited for him to come back and he see what had he left me for. He returned with a small kid and gave hum a spoon of chowmein. I couldn't believe this sight! What had I run into?!?! This guy was unbelievably annoying. I started to walk away. 

He called after me and that's when I understood everything. He asked the kid to taste the salt before serving it to me. A guy who makes it professionally daily needed to check the amount of salt? He probably sensed what I was thinking and said, "Madam yahan jo log khane ate hain wo bohot zyada mirch masala aur namak lete hain, aap toh kam mirchi namak khati hongi, isiliye chhotu ko khila kar dekh raha tha." That touched me. I thanked him, not because I eat less spices but because he took the extra pain of making another round again, just for me and the gesture of calling Chhotu for tasting really made me feel that some times the random-est of strangers evoke the strangest of emotions in you.

That was one misunderstanding I'll never forget.

A New World.

So I am a Blogger now! I constantly wonder if it should be allowed for us to mention it in our C.V.s that we are BLOGGERS! :-D After all, how many of us would have all the time in the world to waste it on writing a stupid blog? Neither a political one nor a professional one, I write for my own self. (White lie! The truth is that I wanted to prove to my friends that I don't eat chips all day long sitting at home!) So, now that I have volunteered to shoulder this great responsibility, let me introduce myself to you all.

I am Charu, a 20 year old, as confused as anybody else, but perceived to be otherwise! To me, it's an honour to be read world-wide (YES! My blog is being read by mom right now in London! :-P) Let me make one thing very clear, if there's anybody who's here to look for good and refined pieces of literature, I politely request them to visit this site- www.dictionary-nazar-aa-rahi-hun-kya.com; it might be of some help. :-) So, what exactly AM I doing here then? I am here to introduce to you all some of the characters who will feature on my blog in the future! (sounds cool, eh? :-P)

There's my friend The Glow Cheek (yeah yeah, don't laugh at HIS name, he doesn't like it), The Girly Momma (my pesky roommate who is my alter ego), The Pinky Twinky (my oldest female friend who made me force the word 'pink' in the name of my blog! outrageous, right?!?!) and her boyfriend-and-my-darling-friend Sallu Bhai (imaginary gay partner of salman khan. yes! he loves him THAT much!). There are loads more who'll be introduced as and when they feature.

This blog is a free space. We shall also have a Monthly Guest Posts by some of you ;-) . We shall Crib, Laugh, Cry, Gossip, Discuss Food, Rant about relationships......just about everything here! But without your support, this blog and I will be just another entry on the Google search engine. :-(

Please Follow my blog "Pink and Black" on Facebook (I don't have a twitter account! :-P)

Next time, I shall reveal the mystery behind the title of this blog.

Love you All.