Lovesick..

Beauty may be skin deep,
Beauty may be in my eyes,

I want to behold you,
Please don't ask why,

I saw you that day in that black dress,
Black things absorb don't they?

I was gone like water in sponge,
Me into you, do you hear what I say?

Now no one can squeeze me out,
And I don't want a release,

I just just want to be trapped forever,
Be love-sick with this disease.

Satisfaction..

He was lying on the bed his gaze fixed at her. The room smelled like any other hospital room.

'Do you really love me?', he asked.

'No', she replied.

Atul sighed and looked in her eyes, again,

'Do you love me?'

'No'

'Do you hate me?'

'Yes, too much...'

'I know that', he smiled.

He touched Gauri's cheek with the tips of his fingers. The tears from her eyes spilled out rolling down to his hands.

She kissed him before shutting down the life support.

Nobody gives a duck....

Hey sweetheart, why do you worry,

I love you, love you i swear,

Not like before but I still do,

why? because you've become a part of me,

yes that is selfish, but selfish I am,

you are the one reason but I wont blame,

hey sweet heart, just know,

nobody gives a duck,
and yes its not a typo,
my keypad is no qwerty, 

so come and join the party,

love is like a swan baby,

and swans are so rare now a days,

ducks are all around us,

ducking as they can,

still i have a swan for you,

not as good as before,

still a swan it is,

as i guess you want duck no more,

take my swan and keep it for ever,

duck you can have with every one,  

i am a keeper of swans,

and love duckhunt, but, you know,

nobody gives a duck,
and no its not a typo,
and my keypad is no qwerty,
just come and join the party.....

Her Rose and His Rose..

Sparkling pearls of the dew on the rose petals,

The dew trickles down to the green leaves,

Butterflies all around the flower,

The white fog surrounds the garden,

You walk in on your bare feet,

The green winter grass is too cold to bear,

You spring like a fawn on the bright green grass,

Your bare feet wet with the morning dew,

Your anklets tingling with every footstep,

You want that rose, that bright red one,

The rose you want is still young and tender,

Let it come into flower from a bud, and take it away,

Wait for it to bloom, like I wait for you.

A selfish hour on a saturday night..

He looked at the city from the bridge. It looked beautiful. The city lights twinkling from far just like stars in the sky only brighter. He then looked down in the river. The blue water looked the color of gray in the night but still as beautiful as in the day. He sat on the railing of the bridge and after making himself safe and comfortable took out his cigarette and lighter from his pocket. He liked it to come at the bridge at night. The traffic is less at night, just a few automobiles crossing the bridge and few policemen patrolling, whom he already knew. The first time he came at the bridge one of the policemen thought that he was one of those suicidal guys but then after so many days they have become familiar to him. He sees them, nods his head and gets a nod in return. Sometimes he shares a smoke with them but he never talks to them because he does not know what to talk and they to completely seem to understand. Generally policemen are not kind to people as they are to him but then he thinks he has earned that kindness and trust. 

He loosens up his tie and the collar of his shirt and opens the brown packet he brought along with him and takes out the sandwich and the coffee. It’s his way of spending the weekend. He never likes the weekend parties thrown by his friends, neither the family dinner. He gives the Friday night to friends and his whole Sunday to the family. He wonders about his friends who would be drunk in the pub by now shouting about their bosses and dads. He never likes it. Some things are better kept to self.

He switches on the Radio and plugs the earplugs in. It was his favorite band playing. He chuckled to himself. He took a bite of the sandwich and then sipped the coffee following it with a deep puff of smoke. His mind was wandering different places along with the lyrics of the song. Almost mechanically he repeated the same procedure, took a bite of the sandwich, and sipped the coffee and then a puff of smoke. He continued the process with a desire that it never ends but like all good things it will also come to an end and it should.

The Saturday always marks a new beginning for him just like it marks an end of the week. The time he spends alone is like a reward to him. A reward for the hassles of the whole week. It’s like a freedom from his stupid boss, nagging girlfriend and family responsibilities. He now looks at the watch. His Saturday time has ended and the time for others has begun. He has to submit the new project report on Monday and then has to get the AC repaired, his girlfriend's call is flashing on the phone screen. He stands up and gets back to his car. The police man waves at him. He waves back. He looks at the city again, nothing has changed but the lights seem dull. He looks at the water and finds its gray shade gloomy. It is still Saturday night but his weekend is over.

A Religious Atheist?

Personally I am an atheist and I consider myself a Hindu atheist. Since I was born a Hindu and a Rajput I will be trying my very best to stick to my duties. I can't believe in God for very scientific, factual, basic reasons(and still I use capital G in God because I respect other peoples beliefs).

I am a Hindu and I take part in prayers, idol worship, pujas, yajnas and every Hindu ritual and that is obviously for satisfaction of my family. I don't believe that these things have any effect except for mental satisfaction, peace of mind and obviously bringing the community together. These things are then obviously good but not so good to satisfy me.

There is one Hindu philosophical school which satisfies my quest for truth and that is the 'Samkhya'. It is a dualistic and Atheistic Hindu philosophical school which denies God and accepts 'Purusha' and 'Prakriti'. Samkhya philosophy regards the universe as consisting of two realities: Purusha (consciousness) and Prakriti (phenomenal realm of matter). Well I must say this is the best way out I have got to personally satisfy myself in the area of religion and God because after all we all need something to believe in.

 

Chitra....

Part I

I am sitting in the balcony holding the mug of coffee in my hand. The morning is cold. The sun is trying to rise in the foggy sky giving it a shade of pink. I feel the warmth of the coffee mug in my hand and look at Chitra sitting on the cane chair besides me. Her face is blank but serene as always. I always find it hard to decipher her expressions because they are like codes. Her expressions are so subtle that you just can’t find out what she is thinking. I get an urge inside me, an urge to paint. I wanted to paint her with all her mystique and so I get up to fetch the canvass.

I am not a painter. I am just a boring programmer working in a software firm who paints to spend boring Sundays like today. I drag the canvass to the balcony and arrange my paint brushes. Chitra looks at me and smiles.

‘Do you want to paint me Jay?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

I start painting strokes on the canvass and strands of memories start appearing on the canvass of my mind. It has been 6 months since I am with Chitra. I would have become mad without Tanya Tanya was the girl who was my world before Chitra came in my life. I really can’t blame Tanya for leaving me because everybody wants the best life. She got a better man and left me to rot in the pit of loneliness. I had almost lost my mind when I met Chitra in a coffee shop. Past six months have been days of utmost bliss for me in the companionship of Chitra. My life is perfect, as perfect as never before with her.

I look at her eyes, my brush working to give the eyes on the canvass the exact shade. I love her eyes, the contrast between her large shining black eyes and her coppery complexion. Her hairs are long and black like the darkest of nights and her lips brown like chocolate. Her brown saree draped in a very elegant manner and face radiating the intellect she has. She has many similarities to my mother and that only makes me love her more. I am feeling a sense of inadequacy trying to paint her image on canvass but then I ignore it and keep painting. I wanted to give it my best shot.

‘See this,’ I called Chitra after giving the final stroke on the canvass.

‘Wow! She really looks like me’, She smiled looking at me, ‘Just a little better’.

I wanted to tell her that nothing can be better than her.

I have not told anybody about Chitra.  After Tanya I did not want to discuss my personal life with anybody. But now I want to let everybody know about her.

The first person I would be telling about her will be Ashwin. He is a doctor and my childhood buddy. He is the one who prescribes me anti-depressants for bad times. I really want him to meet Chitra. I would really like to know how the doctor and the social worker, two most important people of my life would get along.

Part II

Ashwin was in the clinic when Jay called his phone. On hearing that Jay wanted him to come over at his place he was little disturbed. He was my best friend since childhood. Locking the door of his chamber he was thinking about recent happenings in Jay’s life, suddenly someone pats on my shoulder.

‘Hey’, He found Jay standing behind him.

‘Hi, Is everything okay Jay?’

‘That is the problem with all you bloody doctors, always expecting something bad to happen to others’.

‘Not everybody, just you’, He replied Jay punching in his abdomen.

Jay laughed heartily and hugged him. ‘You know I found someone.’

‘Really? That’s great! Who is she?’

‘Her name is Chitra and today I have come to take you to meet her’.

They both walked out of the clinic and sitting in the car Ashwin asked Jay-

‘How long?’

‘Six months.’, Jay spoke starting the car.

‘Bastard, why didn’t you tell me?’

‘You are the first person I am telling.’

Jay took out two cigarettes from the dashboard and lit them with his lighter. He gave one cigarette to Ashwin and accelerated the car.

‘You know I don’t smoke much. My patients shouldn’t see me smoking.’

‘Yes, I know that and the guy who was caught smoking by the principal in school toilet is telling this. Wow!’

Ashwin could not counter this. He relaxed on the seat and both friends took a deep puff of smoke simultaneously.

After a drive of about half an hour they reached Jay’s apartment.

‘So you sit and I will call her’, Jay told Ashwin pointing to the sofa.

Aswin settled himself on the sofa.

“lookie lookie here she is”, Jay came back.

Ashwin looked and was shocked. He couldn’t believe it. He somehow brought back his expression to normal and managed to give a weak smile.

They had a bit of chat over coffee and then Jay dropped Ashwin back to his clinic.

Ashwin opened the door of his car to go back home and he was still thinking about last one hour. He did not see any girl named Chitra with Jay. Jay was simply talking to air.

Part III

I drove back home from the clinic still thinking about the visit to Jay’s apartment. My childhood buddy has gone through a lot in his life. Since past one year I have been treating him. He was totally dependent on Tanya and when she left he couldn’t bear it and went into severe depression.

I reached home and directly went to the drawer where I keep the files of my patients. I searched for the name Mrityunjay Mehta. I spotted the blue file of Jay and brought it to my study table.

I lit my cigarette and started reading the file again correlating with the life events of Jay I knew of. Within the smoke of cigarette the things started getting clear in my mind. Each incident flashed in my mind with a new significance to it.

Jay’s mother was renowned social worker who was shot in a rally when Jay was 13. His father married again and Jay was never able to connect to his new mother and family again. He completed school and then his B. Tech. degree in computer science to get a highly paid job in a reputed firm and that is where he met Tanya. Jay and Tanya were together for almost three years when Tanya decided for a better future and left him. Now six months ago Jay met Chitra and is extremely happy, happier than he ever was.

I crush the cigarette in the ash tray and light another one. There are similarities between Chitra and his mother. Chitra too is a social worker with lot of similar characteristics which he told me during the talk at his apartment. The physical features of Chitra are just like Tanya.

Chitra is not real. It’s just a play Jay’s mind to save self. It’s a delusion. I can give it a medical term called schizophrenia but it does not matter. I need to save my friend but till then I want him to be happy in his blissful world.