Those Rains....

" As sudden rain lashed against my window panes;
during those dry afternoons....
is when all my emotions unleashed;
in an volcanic eruptions!


Was he able to endure....!
Alas!he sank and perished!!"

Lady Of Courage

Someone asked me long back who is your Ideal? Your inspiration... I always pondered and gave fitting answers. Since then this question like my shadow keeps following me with age and time. It refuses to leave me. My answer always changed with time.... when I was young, it was to be like my mom or my favorite teacher. Then it was to be like mother Theresa or Abraham Lincoln or Mahatma Gandhi or Margaret Thatcher or Indira Gandhi or so on and so forth!!..... To be like someone I’ve never met or seen or spoke to. Someone I read about!

Sometimes in life we never think about little things, some things are always there but we never question its existence. It sticks on. Stays with us-forever.

One fine day I sat and thought deeply- “who really inspired me??!!”I was perplexed and shocked with the answer I discovered. At times when you seldom tend to meet yourself and have conversation with your inner self, you come with unexpected answers.Yes! The people who inspired me were ordinary people with extraordinary grit and determination.

That particular old woman I see begging in scorching sun and damn cold winters with torn cloths with gangrene on her left feet who still lives on with minimum food and no shelter. Her will to live puts me to shame.

Likewise, recently this particular young girl who showed such guts and courage deserves everyone’s applause.Meet Rukhsana. The Lady of Courage.Rukhsana, who gave up her studies two years ago after failing class tenth, was in her house in Shadhara village in Thana Mandi area of the district, about 190 km north-east of Jammu, when three militants barged in late Sunday night. The militants demanded Rukhsana be handed over to them, which her father Noor Hussain, mother Rashida and brother Ejaz tried to resist. At this, the militants started hitting the family members with rifle butts. This angered Rukhsana and she picked up an axe and hit one of the militants, killing him. He was later identified as Abu Osama of the Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT).A violent scuffle ensued, in which another militant was injured and he and the third soon fled.Police officials have commended Rukhsana’s courage, while state Director General of Police Kuldeep Khoda has sent a special message for Rukhsana and said she would soon be rewarded.

I was so overwhelmed to read this. This show Indian woman would not take any nonsense.Her docile demure should not be confused for submissive attitude. I believe Indian woman have such courage, be it Janshi ki Rani, Lakshmi bai,Chennama, Razia Sultan,Kasturbha bai, Sharadha Devi and all those countless woman who keep the family cycle going in spite of their drunken husbands or a woman we meet everyday who saves every penny or a woman who keep her family together even without their man’s love. It’s as close as ‘my mother’ and ‘your mother’ who is ready to feed us as long as she can (even though we are old enough to be thrown out of the house to make a living of our own)

Let’s applaud and encourage all such women who deserve much more than they have got so far.Our everyday woman who looks simple and plain but has mammoth strength and determination and courage when situation demands.

Let’s salute Women of our Country.

If this is to be.....Let it be!!!

Oh! Death embrace me!

come at your will

fill me with your love

smash all the barriers

come out of darkness.

I've crossed the ocean

have already died million times

death-a river of sorrow

but no repentence

ultimate truth is death.

Freedom from all woes

truth in final shape

seduction with death

opens to immortality

Passions of Nature.

Wisdom takes turn

nector of eternal light rains

let me see death

let me know him

oh! death embrace me......

Love is Intense !

Never meant to be.....!

When we were friends

we were close

closer than ever

but when we became

a little more special

we lost the one thing

that brought us together

the friendship we had

it had died.

As friends we had started

but as lovers departed

and though our hearts did bleed

the words that i dare repeat

broke a relationship.

That could never be mended

a friendship that had ended.

Jael

Panorama.....Then and Now

The place was famous for heavy rainfall....it rained like it gonna drown the place...fortunately it did not, power cuts were common...it’s just that ppl did not complain back then (Nobody bothered about daily soaps, did not store food for ages, did not use geyser, women washed cloths near river banks.....life was simple. People could survive without power) During such times....on a rainy day few people stood awaiting outside the hospital crossing their fingers hoping it to be 'baby boy'.....Much to people's dismay I was born!! in a beautiful place and a remote village near 'Sakleshpur'.

As soon as I was born...I was introduced to load shedding, and soothing drops of rain (people enjoyed it then, girls always fell in love with Varuna(Rain God) now I don’t know why people curse the flirtatious works of Varuna)…

My memory of sakleshpur is synonymous with few people, heavy rains, coffee estates, healthy food cooked fresh, unpolluted air to breathe, bright stars in the sky, home medicine. Above all people genuinely loved and laughed together. After much coaxing and manipulative ways of mine.....all those who wished I was a boy were happy I was a girl.....pretty(my mom's version), talkative hyper little' imp(other's version) when I believed trees and birds could speak(I always spoke to them thinking one day they would reply back).....

Now, after so many years when I am trapped in the monotonous routine life in cosmopolitan city

I ponder why is life so complicated!.....

Nobody speaks to anybody, Television rule the roost. Only during ad breaks family exchange most necessary conversation. Mother is bothered about Tulsi's Life in saas bhi kabhi bahu thi!! Dad is bothered about Cricket scores and some stupid news in America! The Teenage son is excited about sach ka samna(mind huh...the questions asked gives him major adrenaline rush) The daughter cries hue and cry about SRK being treated badly!! God! Let’s take a break. Look around you...it’s your family and friends who needs love and attention. Tulsi will be handled by ekta kapoor, America will handle their self made problem, sach ka samna has got its trp, SRK will eventually learn America is not India to throw around his bhav.

Lets cook fresh food together...check junk food and pizzas and burgers out. Swear guys....the amount of happiness 'anna sambhar and pickles' or 'home made spicy biryani and chilly chicken' gives can not be replaced by any continental, mediterranean, blah blah food.

I even wondered if girls or guys now a days ever cleaned their house themselves. I have seen people living in their own house as guests waiting for maid to clean the house. Man! Get real! For heaven's sake it’s your own home.....I don’t think manicured hands will get spoilt if you get down and clean your own house. No wonder women of previous era had such fab body( carrying tumbler kept their waist size below- 28, sweeping and moping kept their abs super flat).....But, come on.....Gyms got to run their biz also, rite?? Maybe the image of babes or hunks doesn’t go along with self help and clean house stuff….Huh!!

And coming to think about human relationships......it’s been 6 years in Bangalore; I could not break ice with my not so friendly neighbors. After my continuous effort, all I get is a fake smile and closed door (hearts). When I was young I grew up in neighbors house(as my mom was working...and was workaholic too)....Everyone in the street knew me....after school my snacks was ready in one of the neighbor aunt’s house. I still remember, I going with my Hindu friends to have darsham of '101 Ganapathi' or accompanying them to distribute 'yellu bella' for sankrathi and even distributing 'ghosh' for bakrid with my Muslim friends!...All my friends awaited for Christmas cake.... I miss those days. Here all religious functions are just display of wealth and status....spirituality and genuine concern about people is oblivious.

Here, once I saw a woman badly beaten by her 'educated husband', all macho men and rest were mute spectators. Back then, entire village or all your neighbors never let a man hit a woman!!Hmmmm....I don’t why the more insensitive you get...people call it developed and civilized. What a misnomer!

If I had a magic wand I would take back India to the golden period of Guptas or Vijayanagar era where poverty unemployment was seldom used. I shudder from my nostalgia and back to reality.....

Life goes on...does it not?! Still why don’t we all make an effort to live a real happy life and not superficial one!! I thinking back about the place I was born....I still remember an old man living all alone who told me stories about Saints, Kings of forgotten times and folk stories. I got my first moral science classes from him, way ahead before I learnt it in convents. One of these days I would go and meet him....to sharpen my moral science lessons!!

Once I read somewhere…..So many gods, so many creeds, so many paths that wind and wind. When just the ‘art of being kind’ is all that the sad world needs.

Jael

Reminiscence......

All of a sudden a forgotten dream comes back with much loved promise. But it’s like mirage. Like a butterfly....you run behind it like insane, you keep chasing....never to find it. You look back to collect the broken pieces.....of your heart!!

She sat near the window seat, her favorite seat; it was even more special if he sat next to her. But today an old woman sat in his seat. A old woman with thousand wrinkles, each wrinkle with a story. She smiled at the old woman, the lady smiled back. A connection was formed. Some connections happen instantly and some take years!!

The bus was not crowded, she liked it this way. The breeze through the window blew away her hair, she closed her eyes...suddenly like a shooting pain she missed him. It was so fierce; she could feel the pain physically. Some pains are like that, they are always raw no matter how many years eclipse. Some pains vanish as soon as you feel it.

Tears welled up, she looked away to stop them, old lady looked at her with a look which meant she understood her pains. She smiled though her tears. The trees outside looked so familiar and yet so new. She saw the trees everyday, they were her sole companions. They never bored her; she could look at them hours together. That was the immense power of nature. She wished infinite times-I wish he was at least one of the trees. When they traveled together, they both wanted to be the mango tree. They promised each other, after their marriage they would plant a mango sapling as their wedding gift.

It took her back to 6 years, 10 months 15 days ....the day they saw each other. He looked like a phantom....unkempt hair, stubble and always in kurta pyjama with a novel. He had Leo Tolstoy’s 'resurrection'. If not for that novel, she would have brushed him off thinking him as one of those 'good for nothing guys kind'.

After some days, they met in library......after much silence they initially nodded at each other which led to formal greetings to conversations to coffee houses to poems to love letters...after they were in love is when silence again engulfed them. They sat hours together on the park bench without speaking a word or slept on the beach looking at stars without letting words disturb their eloquence. She understood then that deep emotions are felt without speaking or words would set boundaries to their feelings...to their love. Through their silence, they understood how much they loved one another.

Everything was perfect. Completely perfect. They were soul mates. They were each other’s mirror. He began the conversation and she completed.

Fortunately both their families agreed to their perfect match. They understood. They thought they looked picture perfect. Like lovers in the paintings.

One fine day, they decided to meet in the morning without any reason. They never required a reason to meet. As soon as they reached their favorite destination, everything was normal, they ordered by-two cup coffee. They failed to see the fire beneath the normal surroundings, out of nowhere came thousands of people with hockey sticks and many more weapons, she did not even know names of. It’s when she saw the angry mob; she understood the fury of hatred. It burned people, hearts, lives..... People across shouted- run for your life. The fury, the anger, the hostility was called- 'communal riots'. When a man is angry, when he is vengeful without love is when he loses the mask of humanity, he would tear apart his fellow being without mercy, cut across pregnant woman's womb and kill the foetus within. He would rape a woman in front of her son. Would drink his so called enemy’s blood and look around for another prey. Abhorrence destroys self, another soul, it destroys mankind.

She and her lover hid them self in a strange man's house for god knows how many hours. After the riots police came to clean the mess, the dead body and people's broken hearts. They abruptly barged into the strange man's house kicking everything in their way and pulled away her lover and saw his vulnerability. Perfect scapegoat. She froze on the spot, reading the cop's mind. She pleaded, begged, fell to his feet claiming his innocence. They had no time and mercy to hear her pleas, press conference was scheduled in the evening, and they wanted to show to the world that they captured at least a suspect. They had done their duty!!! They took away a man full of love making him culprit for the hatred of other men.

They took him away that day...... he turned back to look at her, deep into her eyes which stirred her soul. That was the last she saw him.

Everyday since then she read about encounters. She did not want to read about it.
Every time she remembered him...she went to their favorite place where she last saw him....she went there everyday since then.

Jael

He...............She!!

........ She could read his mind or could she? His heart was pounding. He wanted to cry and tears seemed such a mediocre way of expressing his love. His love was oozing. It was over flowing, it surrounded her, never to drown her.
She called the shots, she was the winner and he let her win-she was the queen. He was so close to her and in spite of the proximity he missed her terribly. Words always failed him. He wanted to keep her forever, love her, adore her, marry her, worship her.....
He wanted to say so much and he said Nothing.
He looked at her with all his love, hoping she would understand, love him back or at least acknowledge his love....
And she sat there......reading her horoscope…. silently hoping to find a man who would love her!!

Jael

His love....Fake one and Real one!!

He suddenly realized what he had done......it was a mistake, a blunder! He felt his heart pounding, his pulse weakening, he was sweating profusely, he was in trance, everything looked desultory....he didn't know sleeping would wreck him so much!

Then came like a flash- her smile, her smile could light the entire world. He fell for her smile; though she had crooked teeth he thought it looked perfect. Her hazel eyes gave him a mad urge to drown in them. Other men thought her 'ok looking' types; she was his diva, his love goddess, his what not! He thought love was the 1st wonder of the universe. It was the beginning and the end. It gave him a reason to smile when alone, it made traffic jams endurable, it made the crowded buses look comfortable, it made all the lyrics in the world correlate with her, once after meeting her, he encountered a beggar it made him generously give away all the money in his wallet and it was sweet pleasure to starve entire day in her memory, he did not bathe for two days as he wanted sweet longing fragrance of hers on his skin, she gave him strength to dream, to be happy, to live...............and to die! She was his love, million words could compliment her.

And he suddenly remembered other love of his life- his first love rather. She was fragile, she was delicate, she was physically weak but her mental strength put any army general to shame. She did not know how to read or write or she did not know any super complex formulas but her calculation would put any mathematician into major complex. She had not read Das capital of Karl Marx, but her sense of equality was near perfection, she had not read ‘Wuthering Heights’ to love her man, she had not read ‘sons and lovers’ to love her children. She had not applied any make up all her life nor went to any beauty parlors but he thought her the most beautiful woman on this earth. She saved all her money to buy what he loved; she did not eat unless he came home, be it 1am or 2am. She ate his left over, she did not buy sari on diwali to let him buy his Levis jeans. She shed tears when he bought home his first trophy which was a consolation prize (a small steel cup), she still preserved it. She was his silent tower of strength, his foundation, his solace, his refuge......she nearly died to let him live! No words could compensate to one word of what she was- His mother.

That when he realized his blunder. He was blinded by the deceptive love of his lover. He completely forgot his mother, how could he forgive himself. Would god ever give him second chance to rectify his crime, would god give him second chance....just once! He prayed, he pleaded, he wept, and he wanted to embrace his mother, sleep on her lap..... but life at times would not give second chance....he had taken too many sleeping tablets, enough to kill many people. He was dying...that’s when life stood beside and it looks at him mockingly, nearing death is when life looks seductive!

He was dying for a woman whom he loved for few years and was loved back; she had turned down his love abruptly over a sms!! As she stopped loving him overnight. That’s when he had taken extreme step to die.....forsaking his mother’s love which gave him strength for 28 years.
That’s when an image of fragile figure appeared......with eyes full of insatiable love and agony.....that’s when he wanted to live.........only for her.
But............life is an illusion and death a reality. He breathed his last breath with a name on his ashen lips......Ma.

(I would like to share a sad news, I wrote this thoughts when a family friend who was working in Bangalore committed suicide recently over love disappointment consuming sleeping tablets, he was in icu for 3 days and died. His mother sat like a rock all the time with no emotions, she looked at me after his cremation, gave a vague smile and said.....her son is coming over for weekend and she has to prepare his favorite dish- Holige!!)

Jael

A day....a decade!

I had a hard day at work, its becoming habitual, kind of getting used to it. I hardly know the dates and days; I just remember the target numbers!
I get up haggard, to let another day take toil on me. Breakfast is just a glass of milk or a fruit, but "make up" is must, u got to be presentable. Nobody bothers if your starving or full, just a fake smile will do. After the initial struggle (mad rush-where is my brush, paste, where the hell is my favorite lipstick) between the time i wake up….. to the time I rush out of my home
Another struggle... is reaching office! Bangalore auto drivers are very moody (read nasty), with very few exceptions rather. Faulty meters, the look they give if you are glamorously dressed (u call it presentable, some conservative people out there who are hell bent on saving Indian culture call it provocative!), I always go defensive to tell Mr. auto driver that I have traveled the road 1000 times to know the fares better than him, some agree, some abruptly stop asking me to get down. Time is rather tricky it always runs super fast when you are running late to office. I send an sms to my boss(!) apologizing of being late, he does not reply back(means he is annoyed!, I should shift my house to where he stays, damn it! he is always on time!!) another struggle over......
After terrorist attacks across the globe, every single individual is frisked and checked but I don’t know how those damned terrorist get away with it!.... my bags checked at the entrance, at the lift lobby.....poor souls find just my make up kit, a book,keys,mobile....they look disappointed!...another struggle over......
Well! Real struggle begins when I enter the office; I smile at everyone as if I am darn happy to have reached the office. Some smile back, some don’t, some stare, and some gossip! Boss is still angry unless I talk how passionate I am to do (UN) achievable targets. He smiles.....Another struggle over...
Even the comp looks scary, checking mails (office mails bore me to death, unofficial ones inspires me!), fixing calls, talking sweet on the phone with clients to discuss his financial goals (some have made blunder with theirs, some are dumb enough not to know what is theirs, some are always busy (24/7), some nice chap says come over, we will discuss the plans available).....At last out of office...another struggle over....
I travel 30 km to meet prospective client to discover he is held up in meetings for entire day, what a jerk! I visualize of killing him and spending my entire life in jail. Nope, I can’t let one client ruin my day (I let pursuit of happyness inspire me....it always works) another struggle over.
Lunch in some posh place(if I got to use the fresh room), my choice of restaurants depends on their fresh rooms and my urgency to use fresh room, food is just a bahana or else even some reasonably decent place would do(read no lousy guys around who stare at a woman who eats alone or waits for bus alone or travels alone, u see such women are easy preys!!!,they forget such women would always land them in trouble as they would not mind creating ruckus, assertive ones) another struggle over.....
Post lunch, some more calls......back to office. I become center of attraction, eyes speaks hell lot here...my boss's eyes implores me, asking any biz? ...I shrug my shoulders, his wrath devours me.....oh god! Let the earth part rite now and take me in, nothing of such thing happens...another struggle over....
I wrap up the day, preparing for another day of struggle..........

But how many days have passed with such struggles!! Does economically independent super woman means such struggles! I don’t know...maybe. How long will I continue to do so!!....I don’t know.
Have I become a robot, a machine.... when was the last time, I saw sun rising, sun setting or counted stars.... when did I admire a flower blossom? When did I genuinely smile at people or came home early to prepare chai for my mother who longs to spend some time with me (no wonder my gifts don’t excite her, she looks happy when i am around blabbering), when did I last visit my friends, when was the last time i hugged them, went for a long walk, when did i last spoke to a forgotten friend, when did i go out without any care in the world or without make up....... Gosh! What has happened to my precious life i dreamt of when i was little??!!
I am waiting for a perfect life to happen......i have forgotten life happened to me everyday. I exchanged what ever i do daily to a day in life.
Real time to introspect.........
I hope i find happiness in little things.......U know…pursuit of happyness.
Happiness Always
Jael

Never to be.....

Ran all the the way to catch the train.....

I waited all my life!!

I missed it within few seconds.

Had to board a different train....

just to have a glimpse of the train i missed.....

......running on the parrallel track.

Jael