A resident of Surat would consider himself/herself lucky if they get a shared rickshaw (known as shuttle here) without screaming the name of the destination to at least a dozen of rickshaw-wallahs on a busy Sunday morning. 'Central Mall?' I screamed to the second rickshaw that came to my sight. The rickshaw-wallah gestured me to hurry. 'Civil Hospital chaloge bhaiyaa?' I heard a sweet voice as I was about to enter the rickshaw and moments later, she was there, seated next to me.

The rickshaw-wallah took no time to switch the music player on and then moments later, we could hear a pathetic song from the 90's which involved the male singer express his pain of being cheated on. Ironically, I got confused whether it was I,or the singer, who deserved some sympathy. However, the rickshaw-wallah seemed to enjoy the song, occasionally singing some lines of the song in his cacaphonic voice. It's fun to see how the facial expressions change when one sings, which when complemented with occasional nodding made the rickshaw-wallah look like a pro. 

However I lost interest in him quite soon and decided to divert my attention to Whatsapp. Whatsapp always remains a good option to divert your attention from unwanted things like lectures and in this case, the song. I got my phone out from my jeans pocket after a lot of struggle, yes your efforts may be misinterpreted as a possible attempt to make use of the situation to do something indecent, by the girl sitting next to you. I finally got the phone out and looked at the screensaver. '38 messages from 4 conversations' it read. 36 of them were from my college group which was busy discussing the plans for the day. With nothing else to do, I joined the conversation. 

'Jasmine' my sense of smell informed me, as I realized that something like hair touched my face. As a reflex, I looked up to see her face in the rear view mirror. Very soon, I got clear about two things. One, she was older and more mature than me and second, if one could count, the number of proposals she would have got till date would obviously exceed my 10th and 12th board's score combined. 'Wow!' I exclaimed in my mind and smiled. She was clad in a blue kurta apart from an aura of simplicity. I noticed her ear rings and red colored nails. Frankly speaking, she was a perfect girl next door. Moments later, I noticed the rickshaw-wallah looking at me from the other mirror and smiling. 'What?' I gestured through facing expressions. Smilingly, he shook his head and focused back on driving the rickshaw, I reverted back to Whatsapping.

Exactly forty one seconds and thirty two micro seconds later, the rickshaw reached the civil hospital. She got off the rickshaw and handed over a twenty rupee note to the rickshaw-wallah. He returned eight rupees to her which unintentionally initiated this heated conversation:

She: 'Bhaiya, the fare from Station to Civil Hospital is Rs. 10, how on Earth can you charge me Rs. 12?'

He (in denial): Ma'am this is the standard rate, you must be new here.

She: I am a regular commuter, I know how much the fare is. Give me the pending money. 

He (irritated): Ma'am the fare to Udhna Darwaza is Rs. 10 and to Civil Hospital is 12, fares increased last week.

She: How many times a month do you increase the fare? I am in a hurry, give my money back.

He (shaking head): No ma'am I can't. Sorry.

She: Give my money back or drop me again to station, free of cost, I would rather come again in a rickshaw that charges Rs. 10.

The conversation went on for some four odd minutes. She kept on arguing and he kept denying. In the due course of conversation, her face color changed to nearly match her nail paint. I was following this conversation with a faint smile on my face. She seemed irritated from me noticing her and asked me 'What?' with a sullen face. I made a sincere face and asked the rickshaw-wallah to hand another two rupees to her, telling him I was in a hurry. He complied and handed back the remaining change. She smiled and thanked me. Soon he started the rickshaw again. 'You shouldn't support these people, what will we eat? Early morning such passengers irritate us' he seemed pissed off. I gave him a toothy smile in reply and immediately, my focus shifted back to the rear window as I saw her heading towards the hospital and moments later she was out of my sight.

During the rest of the journey, I kept thinking about our nature in general. We don't mind being charged more when we travel by flight but a giving away a couple of rupees more to the rickshaw-wallah matters a lot. We don't mind spending at McDonald's but we do mind giving a couple of rupees more to the pani puri-wallah. Spendthrift at times and miser all other times, that is how we are, that is what separates Indians from the rest of the world. And so she was she, a simple, decent, beautiful girl who seemed mature but didn't mind looking silly to get her two rupees back.   

   

On That Rainy Evening...

The weather on that evening seemed fine. The sky was clear and some last rays of the sun at dusk complemented the clear sky to make a beautiful Sunday evening. "Beautiful!" I exclaimed while I rushed on to the streets to reach Jay's place. Taking some time off to cherish the nature is always given much lesser an impetus than watching the tennis open final with your best friend, especially when you are late.

The evening turned out to be even more beautiful with beer cans in our hands and Rafa managing a win in the final. That evening was the perfect one to take some pressure off from my head especially when it was preoccupied with exam fever. Our hungry tummies forced us to spend some more bucks on pizza as we ordered one and as expected the pizza reached before 30 mins. "cheers!" We screamed to celebrate our God's victory while we opened the second beer can. Beer, pizza, a beautiful evening, what else does one want from life, but as usual, life always has a little bit more to offer.

While having the pizza, I heard the roaring of clouds. I predicted that it would turn out to be a mild shower. However, the rains continued for the next six hours and had a definite impact on the place where my hostel is situated, being one of the most low lying areas in the city. An hour later, I left Jay's place hoping the rain would stop soon and  took a rickshaw to station. On the way, the rain didn't stop and I soon realized that my prediction  had failed miserably. I now anticipated some water clogging in the hostel area as well as a traffic jam. The rickshaw wallah dropped me at the station and then I had a long struggle to find another one to my hostel. 

Finally, a generous rickshaw wallah agreed to drop me at the nearest chowk to our hostel. Sitting in the rickshaw, I mentally prepared myself for getting wet in the rain. On one hand, I could sense that ecstasy inside me to get wet in the rain while I didn't want to fall sick due to the approaching exams. I finally reached the chowk, paid the fare and started walking in the rain.

"Hey!" A voice called me from behind. I looked behind to find a tall guy in formal wear, holding an umbrella. He was like a messiah who had arrived to rescue me from this atrocious weather. "Come along!" he said and gestured me to hurry up. I hurried up and we started waking ahead. "Unpredictable this weather gets!" I exclaimed completely out of exasperation. "Yeah! But it gets beautiful when you have an umbrella along with you." he smiled. The first thing I was forced to notice about him was his composure. He seemed completely unaffected of a weather change. He looked so familiar, I had a strong hunch that I had met him before.  "Isn't it?" He raised an eyebrow waiting for me to speak up. 

"Look at the water man! My shoes are getting wet" I said as I necessarily wanted to rant about the rains. He laughed in reply. "Engineering student you seem to be" he said. "Yes! You predicted that out of my frustration?" I said and smiled. "Yes! Obviously" he said. We had a small chat on the way, he had to go the lane adjacent to my hostel. I always found that lane scary, completely dark, devoid of any street light. He had completed his Diploma in Civil engg. and was working at a leading cement manufacturing company.

While we were about to reach the hostel, he asked me something that shocked me. "How is Ankit? Is he still on with the one he was, six months ago?" he laughed and looked away. That laughter was predictable! It was him, Gaurav, my room partner who died in an accident some months ago. He was about to complete his Diploma and had also got a job offer from the same company. "Time to go brother, was missing you like hell! Take care" he said, dropping the umbrella on the ground and ran faster than even the best of athletes. He soon disappeared in the dark lane. I gathered some courage to look at the umbrella. It had a tag on it which read "Pinaki Acharya, 2011" . It was the first umbrella that I bought in my college life and soon lost it!. I had tears in my eyes while I collected the umbrella and looked at the dark lane. His words continued to echo in my ears.  

Describing You

I look for words,
to describe you,
your beauty,
your aura,
and as expected,
I always fall short of it.

Perhaps it's difficult,
to put it into words,
how I feel,
watching a tiny dew drop,
still on a green leaf,
it soothes me,
perhaps you bring around the same feeling,
when I see your simplicity.

Perhaps it's difficult,
to put it into words,
how I feel,
to see the early morning sun rays,
breaking the monotony of dark,
it instills a new hope,
perhaps you bring around the same feeling,
when I see your determination.

Perhaps it's difficult,
to put it into words,
how I feel,
listening to 'leja leja',
and the voice of Shreya Ghoshal,
it makes me dance within,
perhaps you bring around the same feeling,
when I see you smiling.

Perhaps it's difficult,
to put it into words,
how I feel,
dancing in the monsoon shower,
on a wet dull day,
perhaps you bring around the same feeling,
when I remember you.

Your beauty,
it increases day by day,
the charm of your persona,
the aura you carry,
makes you incredible,
makes you lovable.

(P.S:- even my love's quite difficult to put into words.
it's silly,
it's deep,
it's beyond understanding,
it's stupid,
it's unacceptable,
yet each and every bit of it is true,
love you )

Revelation

They hide perfectly,

when I meet you,

only if you could look,

within my sparkling eyes,

you would have discovered,

how you light my world up.

They hide perfectly,

when I call you,

only if you could sense,

the longing in my voice,

you would have discovered,

how I miss seeing you every single moment.

They hide perfectly,

when you let me flirt,

only if you could read,

the smile I wear,

you would have discovered,

how I dance within.

The hide perfectly,

when I see you with someone else,

only if you had any idea,

what my heart goes through at that moment,

you would have discovered,

how possessive I tend to become.

They hide perfectly,

in every word I pen down,

in that secret diary,

only if I allowed you to read it,

you would have surely known,

how madly I love you.

-Pinaki and all feelings unexpressed.

Amid failure and despair

Here I am,
kneeling down,
head low,
dismayed,
letting a mix of tears and sweat,
to mix with the dust underneath.

I don't want to burn my liver anymore,
nor do I want to burn my lungs,
perhaps I have stopped running away,
from that very fact,
that I am a failure.

Pain remains a constant companion,
along with darkness of the night,
who illogically tell me to give up,
disguised foes convince me almost.

But then I hear a voice,
voice of my mummy,
telling the child inside me,
stories of heroes who never lost,
her voice has a hope,
which I miss lately.

Her voice reminds me of dreams,
her dreams,
my dreams,
and I smile though pain,
recollecting those happy moments,
No maa, your child hasn't lost yet.

I gather strength,
my knees feel stronger,
as I try getting up once again,
to face this unfair world.

Mirror

It is easier to get over a heart break than getting over the addiction of tea. No matter how hard I try, every afternoon at 3 pm, I find myself at the chaiwala's place with a cutting chai in my hand. That day was almost like any other day had I not found this interesting character, a child labor, bringing the tea cup to my table. Afternoon is a time when the place finds itself a little less busy. This child, probably eight years old, malnourished and with a coat of innocence on his face was totally carefree. For him, the world was a playground and he was yet to be exposed to the challenges he had to face later.

He sat at the bench, next to me and begun playing with a rubber band. I tear opened the Parle G packet and offered him one. He took the biscuit and stared at me for probably six seconds, thirty one micro seconds and  eleven nanoseconds before making me raise an eyebrow. He smiled in response and then focused back on biscuit, clamping the rubber band on his wrist. He took little bytes of the biscuit and till he finished the biscuit, I was already done with my evening dose. It was a sheer delight to watch him eat. The innocence he exhibited somehow took me back to my own childhood days which were necessarily carefree. My heart, which continues to be a five year old, got a companion in him. 

I stood up, paid the money and then took out a butt from the pack of goldflake in my pocket. I ask the chaiwala for a match stick and lighted up the cigarette. I turned back to locate the boy and check what he was up to, before leaving. I found him staring at me. However this stare was pretty different than the one he gave while serving me the tea. He disliked the very action of smoking. His firm stare somehow made me feel guilty and persuaded me to keep the nicotine roll away from my lips. I immediately looked away from his eyes, and almost in a reflex action, dropped the cigarette down and stamped on it. I walked away from the place without looking at his reaction, perhaps because I didn't have the courage to do so. Although I wasted valuable Rs. 5 from my wallet, I somehow smiled. It was a different feeling whatsoever, to face the mirror, which on the other side contained the carefree child, who radiated a strong beam of innocence. 

In that unknown place

I stood there, all alone, trying to figure out where I was. There was peace all around, hand in hand with a stark darkness. I screamed and screamed harder trying to break the silence. My voice echoed around and I patiently waited for a reply. In return of that, I heard his laughter, his screams, his mourning and a shiver ran down my spine. Life gets the worst when you experience everything at the same time: fear, pain and grief. I tried to cry but I couldn't. Those voices all around paralyzed me.   

Nights aren't too long

It wasn't the best place where he wanted to be. In stark darkness he was walking, all alone, bare footed. He didn't knew what to do. Sitting still wasn't an option, who knows some wild animal may sniff his odour and come and hunt him down? So he thought he would keep walking assuring himself that the night will soon get over.

He didn't really know how he reached there. He was the running on the highway when he took a wrong turn and he reached this alien place. The place was cold and rather frightening. It was miles away from the warmness and comfort he hitherto used to feel. He was deprived of any water and taking rest wasn't an option for him. So he walked for hours and hours and the darkness increased. He was shivering, worn down and thirsty. Darkness had reached it's level high.

In the succession of events, he broke down. He wasn't able to walk any longer and he fell down there, very pale and cold, waiting for his death to arrive. His eyes were moist and he looked up to ask God why he was so severely punished. In a remarkable turn of events, he saw the colour of the sky changing from black to blue. The dawn had finally arrived. Perhaps, it was an omen. Perhaps, it was God's way of telling "Walk some more steps man, your destination is awaiting you".

He gathered all his energy and walked ahead soon there was a divine light that lighted up his path. It was a forest and during the course of the night he had travelled through the heart of the jungle and reached a small hamlet very soon. His eyes were full of tears and his face carried a wide smile. He ran towards the hamlet with all his vigour. All his efforts, all his courage had finally paid off. He had survived the dark night and now life promised something better..
 

Thoughts...

Those voices inside me,
they continue to go on,
in hustle and bustle,
creating commotion inside me,
inside the market of emotions,
and necessarily put me into a state of trance.

They talk to me,
they remind me of love,
they remind me of my broken heart,
and how lonely I am.

And I try to smile outside,
the usual human hypocrisy drives me,
this state of not being what I am,
irritates me.

And I burn within,
they set me on fire,
but I have been burnt enough,
possibly nothing is left inside.

This hollowness resonates those voices further,
and my state of trance continues....
 

Untitled-3

He woke up that afternoon and he looked around. He was stinking. He saw a little whiskey left in the bottle. The things he vomited had dried but the floor smelled horrible. He somehow got up, feeling weak. He didn't have any energy to see his phone but he somehow did. There were two missed calls from his office mates. Some new messages, mostly from the service providers. He somehow browsed the messages and deleted the conversation he had with her last night.

Things were always complicated between both of them. He had already been rejected twice. He cried when nobody was around, for he was supposed to be grown up. However, he managed to somehow stop the friendship from breaking up. Although he was supposed to be a 'just friend' she would always call him up when she wanted to kill time. He used to pick those calls up, even after being busy at times. However, things were not the same the other way around. If she wasn't in a mood to talk, she would barely pick his calls up and if she did so, she would show absolutely no interest in talking to him. He would be down at times but would be rejoiced once again when he would see a new message from her. He fell deeper and deeper in her love and he never realized it.

The conversation on the previous night was a bit too intense. He literally begged her to reject the guy whom her parents had sought for her. The latter one was well settled with a job in a software company in the US. He could give her the life she wanted and as expected she decided to accept the proposal. That night she was with her fiancé and she texted her that she was happy to accept the proposal. She told him that he was one of the best friends she ever made but she couldn't ever imagine him as her life partner. When he begged to reject she told him that he could never secure her future the way her fiancé could.

He couldn't take any more of it. He looked at the bottle of 750 ml. Royal Stag. He had almost half of it left. He poured whiskey in large quantities and drunk them neat. He didn't realize when he crossed the limit and he begun vomiting, blurting out "Anamika, I can't live without you". His eyes were moist and he fell on the stuff he vomited and he didn't realized when he dozed off.

"Enough is enough" he said to himself as he picked up the bottle of whiskey and the glass. He wiped the floor and changed his clothes. He was fed up of the life he was living. He went to the bathroom, took a bath and then looked at himself in the mirror. "Rahul, nice guys get screwed just because they are nice. You possibly didn't have the right moves or may be she never deserved you. It's high time you move on". He looked up at the shelf. There was a bottle of brand new whiskey he bought last week. He took out the bottle and dumped it in the dust bin. He switched off his mobile phone and switched on his TV. Luckily, he found 'Tom and Jerry' on cartoon network.

He remembered those moments of his childhood when he had a complete carefree life. Mummy ensured tears never invaded his eyes. Mummy took care of everything. The very thought of those moments brought a smile to his face. He switched on the mobile phone again and called up his mummy. After a 10 minutes talk he told "Bye, love you mom". He switched off his phone again and looked up to the wall clock. It was six. The sun was slowly approaching dusk. He took his car's keys and decided to spend the evening at the beach, watching the sunset.

On his way to the beach, he breathed fresh air once again. He felt the coolness of the air, which he hitherto failed to notice, possibly because he never had enough time to get out of his reverie of sorrow. He looked at the balloon seller at the traffic signal and he smiled. He reached the beach at six thirty. He sat down on the sand, closed his eyes and enjoyed the breeze. He felt alive, a feeling he was missing from a long time. Finally he was over with her. He was over with all those mood swing. He was over with those moist eyes. He was over with those hangovers. Finally he was over with punishing himself.