Vishwavidyalaya or University Metro Station. Presumably the most sought out landmark to tell people about your whereabouts and the most common point for the students (be it school going teenagers to the college youth) to meet and plan out the day. It is very interesting to see how people pass the time, while waiting for the train. There are numerous ways to define and categorize the kind of people one comes across at the station while waiting for the train. I tried to define some:
1) Most of the “Clairvoyants” keep staring towards the tracks from where “The Great Delhi Metro Train” will appear. And it seems as they are hoping for it to burst out into the tracks out of thin air. Their concentration in doing so is so immense and so strong that not even their own cell phone ring can’t break that trance. Though they always fail to materialize the train on track, but they do increase the no. of missed calls on their cell phones
2) Some “Patience-Less Souls” keep strolling back and forth; believing that there doing so will make the time run faster. They are so desperate; if allowed, they themselves can start running on the track. They are easily spotted by the anxiety and the body language with frequent looks at their watches or the cell phones.
3) Then there are the “Deep Thinkers”. In their own world of oblivion. Thinking deeply and looking into the thin air. Mostly standing in such an awkward stance; that you will wonder, and praise the dynamic and flexible human psyche. Nothing more can be said about them as it is really fascinating to see them being in their own world that the outer world can’t make any other observations.
4) The “Talkers” are the ones which can be seen and found on every station. The source of the most sought out question – “Bhaiyya!! yeh train Kashmere Gate jaegi kya? (Brother!! Will this train go to Kashmere gate?)”. You answer their question and they will throw another at you to answers. And it continues until the train arrives.
5) Except the “Talkers”, you may or may not find the other special categories around you. But you will always be accompanied by the “Watchers”. They have a peculiar tendency to look at people; irrespective of the fact that the other person is looking back at them with surprise. They are provoked by any little noise made by anyone and are known to be efficient in the art of listening the talks between two individuals. They have high probability to be found near a fashionably correct individual aka “The Delhi University Girl”.
6) The most interesting and the most mysterious of them all. “The Delhi University Girl”. She will be engrossed in her text conversation while listening to her playlist. Erstwhile, making mental notes of the apparels and clothing of her fellow passengers on the station. Attracts every single being of the opposite sex but the coldness in her face leaves no space for them to even come near her. Shrouded in a self-created false mystery, she elude them as an enigma. The dream of all. So close; but yet so far. More precisely speaking – ‘way out of the league’.
7) At times there is that one “Newbie” who you can easily recognize. The desperate look of self-consciousness. That checking of the information panel every time the announcement about the coming station is made. Constantly moving eyes, trying to find something to concentrate to; without getting any eye contact with anyone. Shy, naive and with lot of insecurity. Yes that’s our own Mister or Miss “Newbie”.
8) Time and again you find that a political debate ensues among the fellow passengers. And among them is one individual who has the answer and counter question and aggressive approach to be deemed as the “Political Hound”. No matter where they will be . they can smell any political discussion and it becomes their liability to give direction to the said discussion. They have a nasty habit of proving everyone wrong and they don’t believe in a light discussion. They feel the politics. they live it.
9) Then there are “The First One(s)”. They want to be the first to set foot inside the pristine and virgin metro as she reach the platform. They don’t wait for people to de-board. They don’t wait if you are falling in their way. They have the ‘eye of the tiger’. fixated and focused on one and only one thing. The SEAT.
The list continues. With each and every station. With every new person joining the crowd which makes the spirit of Delhi. Which makes Delhi special. Adding that extra flavor to it. Its own flavor of ‘Curry’…with a different fragrance and a spicy taste.
Life is unfair and at times it tests you to the limits. I am on the verge of falling as I write. Falling off to an endless abyss of unknown where you can’t reach me; where your voice can’t haunt me. I tried to reach out, I tried to change the uncertainties and tried to create some symmetry out of the chaos, which was You. But time and again, I failed, I faltered. yet the peace which once resided in me, has vanished without a trace. Silently.
Countless nights I lay awake. Staring at the ceiling, hoping to see you as my eyes search the darkness. Listening to the silence, to hear one note of sweet melody that once was your voice. but the emptiness of the night hung so heavy that my heart aches, It pounds with pain. With writhing, unbearable, unimaginable pain. I curse you, I adore you, I loathe you, I love you. Still.
You once were my pain, my joy, my friend, my life. It ended. It crumbled with the walls falling on me of what we called a home. The invisible sanctuary which held you and me strong and safe In rain and storm. The sanctuary we made unknowingly, innocently. From the feelings of the tender heart full souls, that once we were. Now its all gone. I search for it. When I travel, when I work, when I sleep. when I breathe. Everyday, every single moment. But I am lost. And the sanctuary has withered somewhere in the oblivion, with the sands of time, flowing endlessly.
Yet here I am. Washed up and weathered. I eat, I work, I sleep, and I repeat. living a lifeless life with all the things I can hoard to replace you. Yet the void remains. The only static and stagnant thing in my life. The Void. I tried filling it up. But every time the void gapes more and more. Swallowing every bit of the newness and attraction from all what I try to fill it with. And in the end I am left with the likeness of you which shadows the newness and forces it out. Away from me. By me.
You are nowhere but still you are here. Somewhere. Hiding behind that bench where we sat, someday back in the past. Walking behind me when I walk home. Cooking with me on Saturday nights. you just like to tease me as always. Hiding behind unknown faces and yet smiling at me. I know you are there. With your bright smile, waiting to touch me, waiting to hold my face. But you don’t. And I wait for you at every corner, at every turn. Ready to act surprised. But You show up no more. Now you just like to hide. And it hurts.
The day you died I died along with you. And now I am just a hollow of a man with nothingness filled up to the brim. The need to live has ceased to exist with you long gone. I want to end the suffering but I can’t. I promised you. I kissed you and promised you. so I live. Broken. But I live. Its difficult, and I am cold and alone. But I live. Because you made me promise.
I don’t long to be freed of this immense pain. And I don’t want this pain to wear off. This pain is the closest thing I have left of you. The shapeless, stinging, agonizing pain. And I will keep it close to my heart. Tucked away. Hidden. Forever.
P.S. I still keep the coasters lined up on the rack like you did and I still keep your boots out when it rains. I still hate broccoli which you loved so much. And I still find it difficult to remember dates which you reminded me every time I forgot.
Lamp Post and the Birds
Winter is very tender as well as cruel. Where certain species nurture and nourish in this season while other have a difficult time for them. Delhi has a very cold, and spine chilling weather when it comes to winters. mornings are all fog covered with poor visibility and with cold winds that blows off the color of your face and will make it numb. A lot of pigeons are there which reside nearby my house, as there is a lot of flora and fauna for them to exist. These two happens to be there, sitting on my window sill. Trying to keep themselves warm in the sunless morning of the past winters last year.
Glow of The Full Moon
Sun behind the cloud is something one can see every now and them. but a Moon behind the cottony clouds is one other thing. The full moon hidden behind the veils of the floating tufts of pure misty white. With night accentuating the silhouettes. making the seduction between the sky and the moon more dangerous than ever. Romantic undertones in nature are very difficult to miss out.
The preciseness with which each cell is made, the perfection of some naturally learned art. Which is nothing but the ability to adapt itself; mores so, the art of living in the hostile world. It is a wasps nest, broken down after a strong wind knocked it off the wall. The creation of a being which is existing along with us but with a creative side with such perfection that no human can match.
Usually birds act as carriers of life from one place to other. They carry seeds, they plant them and play their role in the circle of life. I knew this, but never had the idea that it can be possible for a bird to play the pivotal role in the blooming of a plant; not on ground but on a building 3 stories high.
Saw this plant on the terrace of the building next to mine. It was glistening in the winter sun in December. It amazing to observe and to think; how life can grow and nurture itself, when given a chance. It made me realize that it is the power or urge of life to exist; no matter what the conditions are, no matter what the adversities are. If a life is destined to exist and see the sun,it will happen.
The best moments during rain, when the sky is filled with clouds and all that is above is nothing but the dark sky with little hint of white here and there. And then there are rays of the sun that seep down from a small opening for a while, and at that time one can actually see the blessing from the sun coming down to the Earth as the white beam of transparent yet visible rays. Heavenly and apostolic.
The Broken Window
I accidentally cracked a window pane when I was trying to open on of the windows in my room. A little push and it gave way. I realized this is us looking at the world, through a glass. Glass so clear yet dividing us from what is real. If only it can be broken like this. If only the real world that is out there can be seen by us, and not through a transparent yet dividing glass wall. Won’t the colours become more vibrant?