today

one of those days when you dont want to work. when you wish you could drive past your office to some other land. when i would rather watch movies back to back. or just sit under a tree in an open field with air running through my hair and the grass dancing in the wind. or soothing music and a shot of vodka playing lullaby to me. in comparison, the colleague laughing in the next cubicle is cacophony to my ears. and i pray the servicing guy is not walking up to me to break the perfect calmness of my mind. i hope these glass panes break open and wind gushes in. all those abandoned sheets lying on the desktop will suddenly belong to it. i wish they'll let me live in this cacoon today. and no-one would puncture it.

no thank-you

why do people dabble in complimenting when they cannot pull it off? people who are not a looker will understand my embarassment. i mean, you are not doing a charity by complimenting someone. or maybe, for some it is just that.
it is probably well intentioned. but turns out like an over-done cake.
"you are looking good somehow." somehow???? i mean, shouldn't the full stop be placed after the second last word. another killer is, "you are looking good today" today. you dont look good everyday. today is the operative word.
but the clincher of the series is, "aaj tum itni achchi kaise lag rahi ho". thankfully, it was a dim-witted woman who said that. and most of the time dim-witted people end up saying such things. so it wasn't that much of a bolt. and how i wish she reads this.

a fork in the road

when you lose a friend. when between making a call and not making one you choose the latter. when you remember a birthday but skip the wishing ritual. when no excuse can be good enough to cross the bridge. when you can bury the past but not the Brutus.

????

everyone is a storehouse. a storehouse of ambitions. of frustrations and depressions. they wear a different garb. some sport a tattoo, some a beard, some an undetectable expression. they essay a variation in their sense of humour, and sense of panic. in the loudness of their speech. or in the silence of their protest. in the exhibit of their mood swings, and in the withholding of their feelings. in the amount of attention they attract, or try hard not to. in the experiences they have lived. each has a story. which they are hiding from the other. from the world. because, the moment you tell your story, you are out in the open. naked. putting yourself on a dais to be scrutinised. to be post mortemed. and it is so much easier to post mortem others rather than allow others to post mortem me.

i = she

to some people i might be the villain. the mean, bickering woman. may be my maid thinks that about me. or that's how the servicing people in my office rate me. useless and lazy. i am forever busy in the process of categorizing people. i think others are also doing it all the time. i wonder in which slot i fall. is their perception of me any different from my perception of myself?

marathon

what's funny is that we all are running not knowing where we have to reach. we have created our own destinations, not knowing what are the destinations in the larger scheme of things. not only that, we have also fixed the landmarks of our life. it might just be possible that the landmarks are not the exact turning points, but that we had already taken a turn much before reaching the point. but all of us are running. not knowing where to reach. or where to stop. it is quite possible that someone up there is making a total fool of us.

home calling

if it runs in your blood, how long can you not belong to it. you leave home, parents, customs and rituals. thinking, it's not your way of life. but i guess i am being hit by the pre-pre-mid-age crisis. with each passing day i feel, i don't belong to delhi. why else do i call up home and ask is it raining there? yahan toh baarish hi nahi ho rahi...... aam hua hai? haan? dher sara? why do i keep remembering my childhood spent in patna? i had given up hope on Patna, but after all these years why do i feel that i need my hometown more than my hometown needs me? is confusion re-visiting me after the college years? is it really in my blood or just in my mind?