Monday, December 30, 2013

The Chapter of My Life - Twenty Thirteen.

As the curtains are being drawn and the year is nearing its end, I curl up in my blanket, play my favorite music and flip back the pages of this chapter of my life.

The story of getting published for the first time and watching my name on paper back gleaming silently among big reputed names. That pride which pervaded on my mother's face when I stood on the stage with many other talented poets. Ah! It was priceless.

The story of pestering my parents to allow me to live my passion to travel and experiencing some of the most breathtaking moments of my life. My first vacation with a bunch of friends!

The story of wearing a scarred face that wrested my confidence and crushed it to death and then gradually walking on the road of recovery and coming out as an even more beautiful person. I can look into the mirror and feel good about myself, again. And by all means, I have deserved it.

The story of watching a loved one turn into a wisp of memory lingering in our lives and learning that this reality is just as transient as you, me, our smiles and tears are. I learned that you don't have to be old to be strong and wise, you can be as young as nine and be stronger and wiser than all around you. The time when I watched my brother breathe his last breaths with unflinching calmness, I felt my heart pump nothing but sheer dread in my veins. I watched him lie there, fighting with fucking cancer while I curled up in agony within my fragmented sighs because I could do nothing. I was but a helpless soul flapping restlessly to find some solace, just a little scoop of solace to comprehend what was happening around.

I wish that day was a haze to me. I so wish!

This life, it is a big, scary labyrinth. We are but puppets crawling around in spirals which ultimately ends up in the same destination. I was literally surprised to see that people who call themselves my close friends, lurked behind the facade of a busy life or some other make believe crap when I badly needed a shoulder to cry on, when I wanted to kill my daunting fears and give an outlet to my feelings, layer by layer. I never confronted them. Never felt the need to do so!

-Charles Bukowski

It's really funny how the aftermath of one big accident can strip off so many beguiling lies which you've been living for long. But then again, isn't it better that those beguiling lies finally stand naked and one can leave them all behind and start afresh? Well, yes, it sure is.

With nth number of ups and downs, this chapter of my life comes to an end. Hope for a less bumpy new year for myself and for you dear reader. I never say this but you are way better than many of these people around because you listen to my woes and musings with utmost patience and stay by my side always.

Thank you for being real to me.

A very happy new year.


Friday, December 27, 2013

27th of December it is.

Semester exams got over today. I am through with the 7th semester of Law (Still three more to go..gosh!) And also with the Game of Thrones. Yes, I finished all three seasons during my end semester exams, that is how gripping it is.
I don't like gore. I don't like excessive violence. I don't like to watch trauma or an hour long episodes, yet I finished it within two weeks. No wonder I have blind faith in the rating of imdb. However, I strongly believe it is no less then a sin to make the viewer wait for so long before the next season is aired and create a whole ambiance of unwanted suspense. I so want to know what happens next, right now! Ugh.
Perhaps this is one of the main reasons why novels are better than movies or serials.

Well, it is not going to give me any peace at the moment. But what might give me some peace is the fact that it is 27th of December again. I love, adore, cherish this date like hell. It is and shall always be super close to my heart. A little too sentimental na! Let's keep mum now.

Okay, I'm done blabbering.


Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Tell Me Your Story

While we lie down together on the light creases of bedsheet. I have never liked creases. And I would never do. But when you tell me your story, there is not a thing in this world which can strip me off the attention. I lie close to you, our heads touching slightly, as you whisper your story in my ear. I listen raptly. My arms are stretched upright in the blackness, with a slight bend and fingers dance artlessly, the way I do a lot, while my mind tries to picture your words and the people living in those words, giving them countenances and enlivening them in the nicest manner. 

So tell me more.

Tell me the things which made you the happiest when you were as young as five, the fears, the inhibitions which you had and how you nipped them off as you grew up, the dormant moments of embarrassment which nobody else knows or remembers apart from you. Those cute little lies, those wicked ideas which popped in your head almost all the time. Share with me how you spent the evenings when you were young and alone, a lifetime ago. What kept you busy, I would so love to know. How you devised new pranks and how you executed them. I want to know it all. I want to laugh with you till my stomach hurts and hear the subtle confluence of our echoes. So tell me your story.

The labyrinth of adventures and misadventures, the snippets of love and hate, the unfathomable bouts of melancholy and the ethereal moments of breaking free, the times you failed to devolve coherence out of life, and the times of incessant rush of butterflies in your stomach.

Tell me as we sit here in the sun and I tilt my head slightly to the right, resting the temple on the palm of my hand because I'm so engrossed in those words pouring out of your mouth, those profound and resonating words. I want to keep them with me, some place surreptitiously close so that I can read them again and again. I'm so engrossed in your story that I forget about the hot tea which has been sitting amidst us, for a while. It has lost its steam and now rests still, like a warrior without his armor. You stop for a while to tell me that my eyes are glinting like a kid's. You stop, to push back a few strands of hair hanging with svelte along my left cheek. I smile.

Tell me your story.

And maybe I could be a part of it too. When you struggle in times of making delicate decisions, I could share my thoughts with you. When after an infinitely long day of hopelessness, you come home, I could make you lie on my lap and move my hands smoothly through your hair. When you are in one of the happy moments of your life, I could be there and be a part of your happiness or even better, I could be the reason lurking behind your happiness. Or in those times when you stay up all night and cry to yourself. I could be there to offer you a shoulder. And hush you back to sleep. And silently, I would watch your eyeballs move to and fro as you dream and a smile would slyly place itself on my lips. You'd snore and I would smile a little more.

And years later, when you are old, with grey hair and a fragile body and would sit with your children, your beautiful daughter and handsome son, tell them about me. Would you? About my idiosyncrasies, about my veiled passions, about my habit to make my fingers dance artlessly in the air, about the glint in my eyes and about the sound of my giggle. Because that day my story would begin.

From you.

In your words.

Friday, December 13, 2013


Let's collect words. Let's collect words of mesmerism and passion. Of how a soft rush of wind plays with a tuft of hair coming out of the woolen cap. Of being tucked away from the world's madness for a while, closely in the arms of the mother. Of the moment cold feet gently kisses the warm grass beneath. Of holding tight a hot cup of tea with cold, slender fingers. Of taking in the intoxicating smell of books, stories and snippets, old and new. Of enjoying breath vapors on a chilly winter day. Of basking in the sunshine and watching your pet keep its head on your lap. Of the first few driblets of water that touch the parched palate. Of the insignificant laughter and echoes that follow you in the depth of the night. Of being a daisy while everyone else is just a rose! Of leaving blissful imprints in others' lives. Of those few moments of peace when you saunter slowly down the street, sublimely soaked in the rain. Of talking about epiphanies of our lives with people who belong to us, only us. Of the overwhelming aftermath of making sweet love and sinking in his chest to hear the deep pulsating sound. Of feeling beautiful even though you see a scarred face, smiling back innocently in the mirror.

Of unbeknownst miseries that may lie ahead and also, of the cloudless yet surreal present that has been unwrapped for you to give life another chance.

So shall we, love?

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Randomness in Six Bullets

  • The big hullabaloo of elections in my city ended on a very apprehensive note. Though on one side, I thoroughly enjoyed watching our very dear Sheila Dixit wear a glum face and utter 'Hum to bevakoof hain na', the nail biting competition between BJP and AAP did not come to clear end. It is hard to bear the curiosity any further, which is why I feel a little frustrated.
  • Remember a year ago, I wrote about one of my classmates getting married? Well, the O-Em-Gee news is that she gave birth to a baby boy, a couple of days back. Extremely fertile, no doubt and I remember one of my blogger friends warned me of this day. I had never thought it would arrive so soon. My classmate!!! She is married and a mother of a boy. A mother, I repeat. And I am just Twenty One.
  • How do you respond when one fine day you open your Facebook account and find 78 notifications from an acquaintance who has liked raided your profile and albums completely??? #creep >.<
  • The Supreme Court has highly disheartened me and many of my fellow Indians today. It was nothing less than a shock to read about the latest judgement which has criminalized homosexuality. What in the world is wrong with the Apex Court?? It's such a shame that in my country marital rape is legal while consensual sex between two adult homosexuals is not.
  • Coming back to the virtual world, I don't know why most people on Facebook are so engrossed in making their personal comic strips which is nowhere near to being hilarious. I don't think it is too hard to understand for a man of average intelligence, how lame these Bitstrips are. I'm being cynical, yes and I like it.
  • I have started watching the series 'Game of Thrones'. Wanted to know what the fuss was all about and also because imdb has rated it 9.4. So far it has kept my interest intact.

P.S: Iloveyou for being a reader of Mirage.
Happy 11-12-13.

Monday, December 2, 2013


It's been a while since I last updated anything apart from poetry. There are many things which I had on my mind. One of them was about my short visit to Lansdowne, this year in end September.

Lansdowne is a small, cantonment hill station located in Uttarakhand. The fact that it is a cantonment area makes this place even more clean, fresh and peaceful, unlike other hill stations. It is covered with unending alpine forests and picturesque view of majestic mountains.

As mentioned above, I visited this place in late September and the weather was nearly perfect. We (which refers to me and my cousins) chose our personal car as the mode of travelling. Started in the early hours, we managed to touch the town around 2 in the afternoon with the help of reliable GPS and kind people all over India.

en route... just a few kms before the destination.
And that's my brother's hand.

The hotel where we stayed was 'Fairydale', situated near the main market. Like many other residences of military colonels, it is a huge bungalow converted to a hotel which kept the homely ambiance intact. The food was good, the staff was courteous, oh, and they had an adorable Labrador who, unlike Frodo, spent his time meditating nonchalantly and basking in the sunlight instead of drooling over everyone's lunch table. Clearly, he was on another level.

What I loved the most about Fairydale were its rooms. We had one master bed on ground floor and the other one went upstairs and ended in an extremely cozy haven like compound. I remember how I was left with the widest smile that day, the moment I climbed upstairs and snuggled deep inside the thick blanket.
After all, this is what one craves for, after a looong hectic travelling.

And so the holiday began.

You see her? The girl in  pink track pants? Yes, that's my little cousin Mishti.

cozy cocoon.

The mornings we witnessed were wrapped in dense fog and absolute silence. Perhaps this is the reason why Lansdowne to me is a perfect harborage of quietude.

Earlier I had thought that taking our car wouldn't be a good idea because of the exhaustion it would cause. But honestly, it was the best decision. We had independence and privacy in a new city where one is usually dependent on the cab or bus driver. I thoroughly enjoyed our long walks in dense morning fog, through the alpine forests and then chilling for a while in the middle of nowhere while we knew we had no reason to rush. It was fun. Not the usual kind, but I did enjoy those happy moments.

This moment, right there, it was scary and calm at the same time.

A very famous church and utterly gorgeous too.
Let me share a little secret. I had never ever been to a church before. No wait. I did, once, in Goa. But the problem was that it wasn't structured in a traditional manner. It was hemispherical in design while I always wanted to visit the one where there is a narrow aisle and two paralleled seating arrangement on both the sides, the usual movies wala church. So my silly desire was finally fulfilled in Lansdowne.

After the church visit, we went up to the highest point, referred to as Tip-in-Top. It was drizzling and we were cold so we could't stay out in the open for long. But we did enjoy tea, pakoras and played carom.

Tip-in-Top point.
Aren't we adorable?!!!

Tea and pakora time. And yes, it was elaichi wali chaai. ^.^
By the way, most of these pictures are clicked by Mishti.
Not me!
Don't judge by his concentration. I won the queen. Wuhooo!
By the time it was evening, we retired to our beds and started the best part of the journey..a never ending game...Monopoly!!! To say that it was the charm of our trip, is and would always be an understatement. Period.

The next day was lazy. We started off late. It was just too hard to leave that beguilingly warm bed, okay! And also because there isn't much to visit in Lansdowne. Apart from a couple of churches and tip-in-top point, there is a picnic spot, highlights of which are boating in an artificial lake and a small children's park. Lansdowne is ideal for those who want a weekend getaway from Delhi or some nearby area. You don't need more than two to three days to devour the beauty of this place.

A family of definitely more than 10 people hopped onto this poor bridge 'together', while we were crossing it. Gosh!

And the entire trip, in a nutshell.

P.S: Did I ever mention how dearly I wish to be a travel blogger? And that I've had dreams of travelling to far off lands and breath-taking places, with a small pretty diary in hand and a camera hanging around my neck? Like literally.
It's normal, right?