Chapter X: The Lemonade I Made

Often he gathers wool when it pours, and so drowns in her thoughts and that overwhelming calmness. Those screams inside stand silenced in the deafening thunder. Why doesn't he let them out and lighten his load instead?

Alone she too braves the downpour tonight and struggles staying composed. But the raindrops don't give her away. They become her tears so nobody knows. They conceal her little secret.

Gut wrenching, isn't it? Doesn't rain imbue us with the blues too? Why this everlasting blemish, its never-ending association with gloom? Shouldn't it be a celebration? What those lovelorn hearts have forgotten was when rain cooled their scorched selves and the romance it induced to remedy their souls.

For me, rain is that fearless run to the backyard as her mother chased her for a wipe. It is the utter neglect his heart's arteries put up with because it would get criminal to not join in for fried delicacies. It is ringing your neighbours' doorbells and then flitting like a fly to the nearest hiding place. It is a bicycle ride on flooded roads and a muddy splash in the puddles. It is a football match in the playground that now has everyone in their balconies engrossed. It is the harbinger of romance in those weary hearts on the verge of collapse. It is like love in its nascent stage. It is what makes those free spirits chart on their cloud number nine. It is the sigh you let out that only coffee beans can evoke. It is this fleeting sense of tranquility that takes you over. It is that song you would never want to end. That engaging euphony! Spellbinding.

But rain is a just metaphor I use to depict how we are gifted at finding what we don't like even in the good things in life. Ponder. Just give it one fresh look. Rain is no stranger to stealing away sadness.

Remember there's good in everything not going your way. You are destiny's child.Think. Well don't think, thinking too much has done no one good. Just surrender to life's spell. Delve in the surreality of it all.

Life's pulling way too much out from you, way too fast. There's work, relationships and responsibilities. Stress is lurking right around the corner. Life's handed you lemons, so lemonade you make.

Don't contain yourself, for it is what you'll have enough time for in your coffin. Crave for latitude, to surmount those fetters and flee. Ah! That flight of inordinate joy, wings slapping those winds of change. Consider the change.

Have your spirit rise above the mundane making love with the magical. Rejoice in nature's colourful kaleidoscope. For the fun inhabits in these infinitesimal things. Lull your inhibitions and worries to sleep. Dive in that sparkling stream of rejuvenation and rediscovery. Get a perspective.

There are no joys like the small ones. Let go of the rain-shade and get drenched. Be a part of it, etch good-times and make them last forever. Make them indelible.

Chapter IX: The Inevitable

The alarm tone kills your REM sleep, you wake up and head-dive into monotony. Everything seems same. Stagnant. It’s a new old-day. But has nothing really changed? Do you really sense no difference? Think harder. Don’t you realize that there are no new mornings for him, or he won’t see the sun rising and flooding the Earth with light again? The sun of his life has set forever. There’s never going to be another time you hear that voice. He’s been snatched. No more of his gifts, and no more blessings.

Death is that untamed lion. Nobody can control it, no whips work. It takes lives away. In a fraction of a second. Life, that we relentlessly work towards making better every passing day, seems so fragile. One blow from death and there’s nothing that you have earned in your lifetime that can save you.

Given the number of Cancer cases in my family, losing another life to it does not make it any easier. It is just as grisly as earlier was. It’s not just the end of an existence, the death knells serve as a reminder of responsibility the next generation has got dumped with, it’s the slaughter of those iridescent visions that have now gone monochrome, an adieu to memories that now stand marred.

Death strips you off all your laurels, of all your prized possessions. These distinctions plague only the living. You may have duped a million but there’s no escaping death, not a mortal clever enough. It sees no good or bad. You may be a prince or a pauper, a scholar or a libertine, an epitome of nobility or an ignoble quack. Nobody escapes it. It’s like a black-hole that swallows light. When your time is up, your time is up. It doesn’t come knocking or seeking approval. It just hits, then devastates. It leaves us lamenting. Such is its rage. Leonine. It leaves us with questions, with tears. Parting peacefully is what we have not been conditioned for, have we?

We read books about death, about people on borrowed time embracing their remaining life. Reading those poignant words we feel enlightened; like we know the meaning of life, like we now guard a secret. Tell that to someone who plays the lead in real life. Tell it to someone who has spent his years upping his game, who has been through the crests and troughs of his folks, walked that extra mile for his children and been somebody’s better-half through thick and thin. Don’t these bonds make it harder? Yes. They pull you back and you want to hold on. You yearn for the unusual to occur. You challenge His prowess.

When death corners us mortals, we get down on our knees with folded hands hoping for a miracle. But miracles work mysteriously, don’t they? What is not arcane about the functioning of nature? It’s one tortuous track and miracles are such marvels that keep us hung up on them till  the very last, till that jaded sliver of hope decides to give in, till those bated breaths finally run out.

Death arrives with a gamut of reasons, reasons to take us away; reasons that cut the umbilical cord off for a rebirth into another world for a new life. All because your time here has elapsed and another place in this cosmos awaits your presence.

So is there life after death? Do you believe in afterlife? I certainly don’t. There’s only one life. One life either to live in fear of that unconquerable force or to make the most out of. Only one life to learn from all follies and only one life to thoroughly relish in. One life is sufficient for the bad karma to reciprocate and all your good virtues to repay. Sooner or later. Perhaps sooner than later. There’s always hope.

Chapter VIII: Song for a Stolen Gem

All my musings, they converge to you.

And your ache, it resonates with mine.

Who would fill the void you left?

For not all scars just heal in time.

Shot to fame, and over the moon

got them stars up in your lap.

your tender years were unaware

the price for fame you would have to tap.

For who would lose their own self

In finding what’s not fine?

You strayed from right, you clung to love

Now damage’s done, why whine?

Had ‘What We Have’ And ‘What We Want’

Been not two but one.

You’d known you had your hands full of

For what you’d always yearned.

Torched inside you carried on

that losing game, head high.

Love unusual got your best

Earned you demons, turned you Blind.

They cornered you, curbed your escape.

They silenced all your cries of help.

When you couldn’t contain more pain

Life freed you of all afflictions instead.

If you are a star I’d stay home waiting

For the night you’d shoot from the sky.

I’d wish for you, I’d wish you back

I’d wish you stay all by my side

Now you fly unfettered, free and high

Soaring like those October birds.

Like lullabies to tormented souls

Who’d now voice your poignant words?

Chapter VII: My Mysore Memento

They say I’m no good at recollections. It's not facile without Dumbledore’s Pensieve so there’s a chance I might lumber through some trifling details. But with all my might, I hereby challenge what they think. I now sketch out my sixteen weeks stay at Narayanamurthy Center of Excellence, Mysore, Karnataka.

The magnificent GEC2 Building

Upon entering, I immediately drew parallels with Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The majestic GEC2 building like that old castle, the food court at basement 2 replicates the Grand Hall, the ID cards had replaced wands and we flew on LadyBirds instead of brooms. In this world of magic time really flew very fast. 

My Heart Shaped Idli

Besides reveling in the food and flavours, January witnessed me in sheer awe. The grandeur of the campus engulfed me, the cleanliness surprised me, and infrastructure blew my mind away. Riding bicycles was cool all over again. The heat didn’t bother, neither did the color or the bicycles’ name. Days were lost in the maze of those gruelling classes and bulky assignments. And sleep majorly ruled all of my nights. My ties with friends back home were loosening but I couldn’t spare time to think.

The beautiful GEC2 Library

Also happened the part I detest, meeting new people and striking a chord. It’s not that there was a paucity of odious habits, oh there were many I turned a blind eye to. All because I appreciate the diversity. But I always preferred solitude that, with every passing day, was becoming elusive.

Nevertheless, I got to spend a lot of time walking too. So I grew fonder of music, fonder of everything distant, of everyone afar.

The Multiplex

February didn’t live up to its name. The shortest month seemed immensely long. The course grew tougher and the sleeping hours vanished away. Towards its end the course demised, and project allocation occurred. That threw my colleagues in a frenzy with some of them voicing how ecstatic or not they were with their project partners. Fretting over things not in hand? I wasn’t one of them.

Oh yes, I've won some hearts

March saw us with documentation completion and first-phase evaluations. Few relations then were turning sour. I never chose to dissolve the acidity that had crept in, I never tampered with things already straining. But many other relations were blooming. I met with people who got along well and taught me things no man could. Sometimes clarity in thoughts occurs while you are least aware of receiving it. It just happens. Like a light bulb glowed, and inundated you with ideas. Yes, I was fortunate enough to find such folks.Demo development consumed the rest of March’s days, an act I ventured into solo, with close-to-nil assistance.

Thick clouds robbed the sky's azure.

The colors mixed on the palette may not always be good, but does that diminish the painter’s perspicuity? Has the sorcerer been robbed of his sleight of hand? Has his vision failed him, failed to win others over? I guess not. Drawing parallels, my professional group had only me putting painstaking efforts and the remaining blaming the not-so-glorious results.

Meanwhile our mentor running away and afflicting us with the onus to complete the project under a new guide, who knew just as much about it as Paris Hilton knows about quantum physics, was another nail in the coffin. New mentor’s blatantly bashing our demo using phrases so acetic was no encouragement either. I found his comments rather reactionary.

The gorgeous GEC1 building

I foresaw that the demo required what until now we had kept it devoid of, teamwork. My one-man army was on slithering grounds, it needed aid, it needed freedom from such levity.

By April’s end, I had my mother’s hand cooked delicacies deviate my mind midday, I longed for my father to rebuff me and to call me all those usually intolerable words. The ache in my guts I endured while missing my family was getting harder.

May was the month of goodbyes. To the friends I’d earned, to the opulence of the campus and to the accumulated bitterness inside. My time here was drawing to an end. Only 7 days of May were keeping me away from all the things I was, keeping me away from where I belong. 7 more days and I'd be back to where my heart is, back to the two good old souls who had lived the last few days envisioning my return. On May 8, I landed at Chandigarh Airport to see them wearing smiles. Smiles that warm I long had missed, smiles so pure I could cry.

Those May goodbyes had borne this fruit, they had brought me back to life.

Chapter VI : Flying Down South

I write this when Sachin’s just been dismissed having missed a ton of tons (yet again) cleanbowled by Siddle while the spiteful Sushma Swaraj is getting wonderfully back-answered by Kapil Sibal on the Lokpal Bill debate in Lok Sabha. And I’m waiting for the moment when my frozen clumsy fingers will warm up to typing correctly! 

This Christmas indeed was the coldest North India’s celebrated in 5 years. But the cold doesn’t prevent us mortals from keeping our desires and wishes ignited. While Anna fasting in Mumbai for another 3 days would have asked for a wholesome Lokpal to be dropped in his stocking, I want Santa to make time stop.

I have barely 10 days left at home before I fly out of Punjab for my internship down south. Tickets are booked and after much ado we have unanimously opted for taxi to IGI Airport on the chilly evening of the seventh day of 2012. Flying to Bangalore on the early morning of 8^th and then another taxi ride to reach my training center at Mysore about 3 hours from Bangalore by road. 

Talking about Mysore, I have a never-dying inclination towards South India. I have been there of which I remember only a little. Can you blame me? I was in 9^th grade. I even forget everything that happened a week ago, let alone years! My biggest handicap! My brain’s cache houses the details of only the last seven days at most. Beyond that it’s all a blur. It does get you in a fix sometimes when your mates are conjuring up things from past and all you can do is nod along like a trained pet or smile.

What I can recall is that it was a school trip back in 2005 with people whom I hardly knew or liked. Only thing that still stays with me about Mysore is the magnificent summer palace of Tipu Sultan. It’s a shame I didn’t have a camera to capture it in all its glory back then. I had a friend of mine visiting it around Deepawali so I know that it looks even more enchanting with infinite light bulbs adorning it. I also vividly remember how delectable South India food is. I utterly love the coconut chutney and the spicy sambar. The aroma of spices takes me over. I’ve always been a foodie. And to indulge in rich flavoured spicy food is what I can’t resist. Though I’ve heard from seniors whining about the food that we’ll be made available but I wish not to reach there with any notions. I’ll be the judge. Nothing’s better than entertaining those taste buds with something as rich as South Indian food. Can’t wait!

Anyway, I've finally started a novel by John Grisham. The Summons. Feels lucky to have got time out for it. Also my little nephew will come visit us and it’ll be a delight. Besides my sisters visiting us , there’s a new year right around the corner ready to bring fuckloads of luck outshining all the good things of the previous year. Amidst it all there’s countless things that need to be bought and packed. My indolent ways will only yield a garnished set of usual Punjabi cuss words from Dad as a Newyear Gift! While packing my bags, every passing second reminds me of how little time I’m left with and of the mammoth responsibility of collecting all my stuff together. Change is just as cruel as is permanent. For every second disheartens me reminding me of beautiful things I’ll leave behind. My parents and my friends occupying the major chunk of it.

One doorway’s shut. The last 4 days of college have given me more than what 4 years could ever muster up. Our bizarre baseless blabbering, the roaring laughter at the silliest nastiest jokes have all grown just as strong as the bonds among everyone a part of the craziness. The 4 day workshop that we were all stuck to attend turned out to be the best 4 days of college life. From the incessant brow-raising commentary to reading the most intensely carnal twitter pages out loud to trying out every canteen and getting dozens of pictures clicked with silliest looking waiters to thoroughly embarrassing oneself in public (applies to me) - the 4 days have been quite a ride. An indelible one.

Yes, I successfully made myself butt of all jokes for my group. But I volunteered. And they left no stone unturned. I have learnt some important lessons about public speaking too. That you are always at a disadvantage when there’s the prettiest girl of college attending the same workshop and listening closely as you open your gob. Never before did I fumble so foolishly. Never did my words just lose their track completely while finding their way from my mind to tongue. Beauty so powerful!

My birthday treat also happened. We raided KFC and PHD located adjacently. The noise we generated sure earned us some stares but the previous 4 days had inured us of any embarrassment that these mortals shy away from. Memorable time captured for life in pictures. As the treat coincided with the last day at workshop/college so it resulted in moist eyes, awkward hugging and some seriously inane good-luck-for-life parting messages.

In addition to my friends, I’ll also miss the Winters because down south the temperatures don’t plummet to this extent. The chattering of teeth, the difficulty in driving two-wheelers, warming my hands by placing them under my bum, to snuggle up in my mother’s quilt everytime I go to their room which is quite rare given the quality of TV shows they watch. Shows that are so nauseating and logic-defying where every character is so madeup and definitely has a twin battling a pained existence, the child of a lesser god!

I’ll miss gorging on pignuts stuffed in my jacket’s pocket during those long walks with Music on lonely fogged-up streets just to straighten myself out. I’ll miss hearing the Gurbaani early morning from the nearest Gurudwara and with those little birds twittering, all contributing to make mornings marvelous. What I’ll not miss is when taking time out for a hot coffee on terrace that loud Punjabi music embellished with lewd lyrics makes you gnash for spoiling the little time you borrowed from your busy day to center yourself.

I’ll also miss my laptop which will stay put at home.

But out of everything that I leave behind, I’ll miss both my parents the most. They always have been supremely eloquent at conveying how good-for-nothing I am. But I also know that I am the apple of their eyes. I’m going to miss mom experimenting with recipes just to evoke a “Yum” from me. Dad for calling me names and faking being strict when he has to get his work done. I’m gonna miss them locking horns and erupting into an argument when both are laying the same point favoring me. Perhaps they will never know how much I love them.

It’s just 16 weeks, I tell myself. I can do it. Wait is good. As Benjamin Franklin says “He that can have Patience, can have what he will.” Just like these magical 4 years, 16 weeks will fly off just as soon leaving me swamped with better memories and experiences. Never been surer.

Chapter V : On The Brink

Roughly, four years from now I had not imagined that parting from college would stir something inside me. With my facebook homepage brimming with sob stories, I only used to guffaw at the drama a few hours ago. This deluge of updates about all the fun people had or all the things they’d miss was something I’d dismiss with a high-pitched “Oh Please!” Because my affinity towards college or its people never fully bloomed from its embryonic state. Or so I think.

4 years flew like batting eyelids. The same routine every day. Catching already-packed public transport buses to College have taught me to forget being a “gentleman” sometimes and run for your life when you see one approaching, cutting sharply through a gamut of people of different shapes and sizes. Bus rides have been a melange of experiences. In summers you get to know what sweat actually smells like and you would even get a wet patch on yourself off someone else’s shirt because the buses are so stuffed. In winters it gets intolerable with all the windows shut and some old folk’s flatulence would make you realize how terribly unblocked your nose is despite the freezing cold. Such supremely sensitized olfactory functions, you begin to wonder.

The walk from the University gate to College would be my most favourite part of the day. With Music on and the 2 KMs daily would freshen me up. I’ve always wanted to be alone for walks but that’s something too much to ask for. I’d almost always have friends from my town who, like me, have been successful to catch a timely bus. And the probability of asking for my opinion on a preposterous discussion when the one song I’ve been waiting for for the previous 20 minutes would begin to play is crazily high and highly irritable. 

I reach college and lectures begin. Those doses of sedatives! The only news my auditory system was desperate to hear would come from our Class Representative, our ace of spades! Last year the bunks we did outnumber the classes we rested our asses in. Such delight it used to be.

And to survive 2 years without a faculty and then having a laugh at how stupid that question papers have been set. Of the limited teachers we had, some would only qualify as apes. Most of them with only a flatulent attitude and no substance, Some others badly out of shape and almost all of them out of their minds. One who would shamelessly itch his crotch behind the dais thinking students don’t get to know about it. Some whom even the guards would mistake as students. 

And to begin talking about the crowd.. I have witnessed so many Put-on-a-show kind of girls with an insanely wrong idea about confidence. So self-amused by all the guys who have ever approached them. Known umpteen holier-than-thou guys who all have the same bikes popular in Punjab also pronounced in a hilariously Punjabi way. “Bult”. Their egos back up their pompous walk and they assume that they are born with an innate right to ogle at all the girls that happen to be in their eye span. They are the self proclaimed Jack Of Hearts of the prettiest girl in the University. 

College is where I learnt more than just topologies or polymorphism. Because that’s just vomiting what you mugged up 5 minutes before an exam, after your "reliable source" hints at the important topic which you had already planned to do early morning but had bartered away for a few extra winks instead. FYI, 16^th marked the end of all the examinations of my engineering degree. which adds upto a nearly 90 Mid Semester Tests besides an End Semester Test for each of the 46 subjects I’ve studied.

Also my Birthday this 13th arrived packed in between two extremely useless exams and I’m glad it just went the way I wanted. Receiving calls from all the people who really care and not just from everyone in your Friends list bound to wish you because their Birthday alerts tell them to.

I missed some calls from loved ones because I dozed off before the clock struck 12. With my phone on silent! I’ve braved an array of colorful remarks on this front and have concluded that I indeed am an idiot. And waking up to 40 missed calls does give you a mini-heart-attack first but then you realize that it’s your birthday and these are the people who love you. Then your heart beams with joy. But I’m mad at some people I expected a call from. Or atleast a text message. So I have been practising some curses and waiting for a nicely written obituary anytime soon in the newspaper!

Anyway, college will always have a soft spot for me for the bunch of likeminded people I found. We’ve together gradated to great friends from being complete strangers. They bear with me despite my incessant meaningless chatter and smutty jokes and know that I am the last person they’d come to when in trouble! And still stick close. I’ve learnt a trillion things from all of them and also how to be there for them. Because in the end that’s what really counts. 

They say, “You only prize a bird’s song when it perches on a distant bough.” My college is the bird here.

Chapter IV : C'est ici!

And today was the first of my last ESTs ever. Last few days have seen me using nasal drops in public, download some long-awaited music and prepare for Practical exams so ridiculously handled.

One week back, it all began with a toothache. So sharp that fearing a visit to the Dentist I started to walk the extra mile. Which included giving away a huge pack of Snickers + Mars + Bounty to a friend only to find out that the pain had got nothing to do with my teeth which just to say are in perfect condition. Also learnt that all four of my wisdom teeth have found their place but are apparently snoozing right now because wisdom's still the most wanted item on my list.

The dentist hinted at Sinusitis and an ENT specialist put a stamp on it. Along with some mucosal hypertrophy which despite being explained twice is still Arabic to me.
So I began my first round of antibiotics and battling 'Steam-Helps' & ‘Cover Your Head’ rebukes. And trust me, to get assisted by a friend to take nasal drops at 11am in Rose Garden Chandigarh is good to get some eyeballs rolling. The hardest thing about business is minding your own. True that.

They say 'Save the best for last'!
And finally it's December. I've always had an affinity to it like Sodium to Oxygen.
Not only because it's my birthday month. With Dad's birthday and MomDad's wedding anniversary also falling in December it does make it all the more special. Hitting 21 this 13th and Dad 66 on 20th. I'm only one-third of years he's lived and dying to hear from him that I'm doing good so far.

December to me means to be remembered and getting calls on my birthday from everyone who throughout the year doesn't seem to care at all but this day would act over-familiar and bring up topics you’d rather avoid. They’re just like your favorite pair of underpants. Comfy but sometimes sticking up in places where you can’t do a thing about in public but to go with it.
December also means days without sun. Foggy bus rides with close-to-nothing visibility and those welltrained drivers daring to speed up enough to evoke a 'Haaye' from an insanely covered lady holding a book of hymns and murmering all through. It also means enjoying birthday just how I want to. Because I always have an exam on or around 13th. So I usually spend it at home.

I remember last year my birthday got consumed in 5th semester ESTs but I made it a point that Dad's doesn't follow suit. Visiting my eldest sister and cutting a cake there was a rather warm reunion in the spine-numbing chill of December.
I decided to stay back till New Year's Eve only to conclude that yes, I'm jinxed for that place. Everytime I plan on staying there, an old member of their family plans to kick the bucket just then on the very first day. So all that my stay got diminished to was the kids' room upstairs and those dumb computer games as my sister's room was booked by bulky grandmas with moustaches that'd give Jackie Shroff a run for his money. But I was able to enjoy dinner out once and it was all compensated for!

This December is supposed to bring out another emotion because it is just 5 more days I get to see my college. Something that just doesn't get me. I'm glad that it's getting over for I never really got much attached to it or its people and the few I thank my stars for will be there with me even after college life ends.

And getting slam sheets filled and tshirts scribbled on is way too juvenile for my taste. Girls grab a chance to get all the good stuff penned for them. I won't lie but I too had to fabricate a lot of stuff about some people I hardly knew. Words didn't fail me then which is like my worst fear. What if I just can't get it all out. What if I fail to express what I really want. Well that’s another story! I'm beyond all the “fill-my-sheets”, “aw-it's-time” and the bromance mushrooming in college because Facebook is anyway going to keep us all connected.

Downloaded Lioness by Amy Winehouse. The whole ‘60s sound of it draws me to music by the likes of Donny Hathaway, Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holliday, Marvin Gaye, Ray Charles et al. Because they are what real music is, I believe. Lioness isn’t like previous seamless records by the late singer but now that it’s here I’d like to mention the Motown sound of Between the cheats, the chorus of Like Smoke and the heartbreaking rendition of A Song For You made famous by Donny Hathaway are amazing.

Right now it's time to do away with the remaining five ESTs that still hold ground to bug me. After they end on 16^th , I have three other exams lined up along with a special Christmas outing with friends which hopefully won’t be scrapped considering how comatose Winters makes us all. Looking forward to a pleasant birthday.

Chapter III : HodgePodge

As I stormed off to my bus-stop I began to run. I instantly recognized the hirsute driver with that big paunch driving a decaying bus- so rickety and slow that it took eons to cover the 18 kilometers to my town.

Having steered halfway through the bus as I found a seat to sink in it hit me that Winters are finally here. It was already darker than usual at 5PM and everything appeared glum. I've always liked Winters better. As a child I loved snuggling up in the blanket, blow smoke out of my mouth whenever I wanted and acting up about it, run my fingers on the windscreen covered with dew emblazoning my name. Even now I love winters as much. I'd wait for the sun to set, would grab my shuffler and go for a brisk walk. No profuse sweating like summers. Only the chill and the abandoned road. No texts demanding attention, no strings attached. Just Music and walk.

Immersed in this I reached home all bummed courtesy a bad exam, worse lunch and an even worse spat with my closest friend. But it all suddenly dissolved when I saw Noddy sniffing closely on a pillar and then demarcating its boundary.  Noddy's a Yellow Labrador Retriever. He recognizes me well albeit I put up a little far from his place.

Like a True Sagittarius, I am an animal lover. The last black Labrador Retriever (whom I christened Bruno) I had to abandon made me weep. 12th grade and I wept like a girl. Once I found a snail in the backyard and I ended up sheltering it in a Q-tip box for 2 days feeding it leaves. So it is quite likely that Noddy excites me like nothing else does. He just pulls me to himself like Fe chips to magnet. Immediately he pumped me with an ineffable energy and gifted me back my chirpiness, ousting the bitterness all at once.

Plus I caught Rockstar again. With a different group of chums. Past it I've only been humming to its tunes. Rahman's music takes time to grow on but once it does, its soulfulness engulfs you. It's been after ages I've watched a movie driven by powerful music. Every track is amazing. From self-atoning Nadaan Parindey to goosepimply Tum Ko on which Kavita Subramanium makes a comeback to the burning desire on Aur Ho to the hopelessly romantic Tum Ho  to the divine Kun Faya Kun.  Jo Bhi Main is what I resonate with the most. Sadda Haq feels out of place on the album and I feel it was put only to give Rockstar an anthem. I'd go for Rockstar a third time just for Rahman Sir.

Now with 2 more MidSemesterTests to go I can sigh in relief. For I'm past the worst. MSTs presented themselves at a very odd time this semester. I had just got out of the hangover of a wonderful wedding. Honestly, I hardly had. The big fat wedding that it was. Here's the nitty-gritty.

At Sangeet. Potty-mouthed uncles with their gobs filled with Chicken Tikka clinking together their drinks. Ravenous ladies who only wait for the host to signal 'Dinner Is Served' and then rush together to the counter like an agitated flock of buffaloes. People who pull everyone to the dance floor but themselves merely clap their hands and keep  hogging the camera. Fastidious relatives finding flaws in the almost-perfect arrangements. Amidst all the confusion there's a gang of guys who crash in for the free snacks.

At Wedding. I was taken aback when asked to do a Milni (putting a garland around someone from the same level of the other party's family tree) Shy as I am, I hurriedly put it and ran away from the flashes only earning ridicule. But a couple of scrumptious snacks were enough to make me forget the embarrassment.
The ceremony was flawless. With the bride and the groom on a rotating platform there were rose petals showered on them incessantly (from what looked like a sewage pipe but thankfully didn't get much noticed) and they exchanged their garlands and posed for everyone. Even the bride's entry was unique (memorable). A wise man once said "Because there's a Lady Gaga in all of us" and that is how the entry was. Reminiscent of Gaga's at 2011 GrammyAwards!

In a nutshell, it's been quite a week. Something I got to make changes about : I have this weird phobia of get-togethers and only the idea of meeting with a lot of people can make me wet my pants. I am supremely gawky. So attending weddings doesn't excite me as much but I'm glad I could make it to this one. Because there's something very warming about meeting long-lost cousins, aunts fighting aging & on every single meeting exclaiming at how tall I have grown, folks having stolen time off their schedules filling each other up with the missing links, all the stories making rounds, the stories I had missed, the stories they know about me, stories downright hilarious that now scream to myself that these stories are why I love my crazy family.

Chapter II : Hallelujah, I'm Free

The Serenity Prayer goes as: 
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.

Life's meaning succinctly encapsulated in one sentence. Wish it were as easy as it sounds.
Change needs courage. Everybody changes in a due course of time. Some for good while others for worse. And it's always for a reason. Some like me change to avert the effects of nursing a broken heart. To camouflage it. I write this because I feel free for having wriggled out of this quagmire.

It's a new life. You get to know a side of you that you didn't know ever existed. You pledge to yourself for never forgetting the lessons you've learnt. You throw yourself in friends and enjoy things that you earlier disdained. Your friends seem to take extra good care of you. And you imagine to yourself recalling your tumultuous past, "Was I drunk all that time?" Now you know the answer.

Apart from that, days are going great for there were no college classes whole week. And with an impending wedding in the family, it's always good to know who all would make it and what absolute fun it would be. The only predicament- exams begin a day after the wedding. Exams. The number of exam papers I have written in 4 years of my engineering degree, oh! And still they give me sleepless nights. What a loser! Ha! Yes, I've downloaded new music (a Motown breakup album by Marvin Gaye) and been doing everything else that I like except for grabbing a good read.

Also caught Rockstar today. My first ever FirstDay-FirstShow Experience. And it didn't entirely disappoint. I am not a big movie buff. So I end up liking any and every movie I watch. And liking doesn't just stop there. I usually go gaga over the leading ladies. And for Rockstar, can you blame me? Nargis is drop dead beautiful. She lit the screen by just being there. So gorgeous that she can dupe anyone into anything. Sadly her acting didn't sink in as well. In some sequences she's the spitting image of Katrina Kaif. And coincidentally her dialogues seem dubbed by the same artist who dubs for Katrina and other MaheshBhatt-clan newbies. But what a treat it is to watch her. B'bye Aishwarya. You've just been replaced.

The flick builds on the fact that to become a true blue artist one has got to live the blues, battle heartache and then let it flow through one's artistry. It is all about the lovelorn protagonist who when achieves fame that he always longed for feels trapped in it and how he's ready to toss fame out for love but it gets too late.. Unrequited love. Those who know it, know it too well.

My expectations from the flick were quite different. I expected it to mirror drug and sex-infused rockstar lifestyle. And had myself drooling after I googled Nargis Fakhri's images beforehand. But it was a typical Imtiaz Ali flick. No nudity (what a waste for signing Nargis), good humour, dialogues that strike a chord, beautiful way of pushing the story forward through songs. And the immense sexual urges of the lead characters depicted with elegance and sensitivity. So much so that you almost feel like "Lucky bastard, wish i were there caressing her and simulating guitar strings on her midriff"

Its music is what sticks with you besides Ranbir's convincing take as the torn-apart rockstar. Kun Faya Kun and Tum Ho in specific. Tum Ho throws you down the memory lane and you so badly want somebody around you. Kun Faya Kun is personally the type of Music i like. I dig tracks with sufi touch that refer to God and lover simultaneously. Similar are Allah Hi Reham from My Name Is Khan, Rangrez from Tanu Weds Manu, Baanwra Mann from Hazaron Khwahishen Aisi and Khwaja from Jodha Akbar. They transport me to another world. A very slim variety of music does that to me. Drives me to a world that keeps me content and at peace. Frees me of futile frustrations floating in my head.

Misty memories fail to fade. They knock at your door when you are at your lowest, injecting regret and guilt and frustration in your newly-formatted mind and they drag you down. And if it persists then you are not free as yet. Perhaps you are just fooling yourself.
Kun Faya Kun says "Karde mujhko mujh se hi riha"
Now that's what I'm looking at.

Chapter I : In The Unbalanced

As I awoke this morning, I felt new and I felt light. Because yesterday was the day towards which I have trodden myself for months and finally as it hit a wall, I feel reborn. Having battled the most extreme degree of a migraine attack yesterday, I woke up without a heavy head but a grin. For now is the time I can throw myself in the things I love. Now is when I can check the entries rotting in my To-Do List. Now is how I want to see myself revelling in what my heart says.
But I know as the day will unravel, I will forget what I want and just be myself.

To make most of the little time I'm left with here in my hometown, I have absolutely no big plans. That is what has always been my handicap. Inability to take risks, living scared of the consequences, stifled under pressure of others' aspirations. I have no plans to make a change. I have no friends to tell it to. So blogging has always been in the back of my mind. And now as I make it happen, it's as much liberating as it is introspective. It's like unwinding in the unbalanced.

Last few months have seen me busting myself for an exam and it was yesterday what it all culminated to. I can't speak of what fruit my effort will bear or how well I fared but my soul is resonating with joy because I'm past it. I made a few follies which when I recalled only exacerbated my migraine last night. Thankfully, Music pacified my ache and lulled me to sleep of which I hardly remember anything. So sound. What I vividly remember is how wonderful yesterday's experience has been. I may have missed the bullseye but I assume I was close and it lets me stay pumped. And for heaven's sake, I'm just 21, on the brink of "real-life". I'm going to be host to numerous opportunities ahead. But go-getting them, shedding my comatose ways is what I can't even promise to myself.

I am supremely laid back and this fuels my foul-mouthed father a lot. He labels me as a gone goose and I won't argue. I love the way he scolds with his perfectly spaced and articulated Punjabi swear-words. He'd curse my careless habits and lazy antics. And can you blame him? I would not relieve myself in winters when my bladder is brimming and my muscles too close to give in just because it requires me to move my lazy bum out of the quilt. And I may have whined about all that I loathe about him but when my friends tell me how I react in some situations, I see a reflection of my old man's ways. I am hyper and worry over petty issues. I hate being stood up and I don't make people wait.  I hold a grudge for way too long and so much so that I forget why I was mad but only remember staying that and follow it like religion. Genes.

But I witness his zeal for life and his wish to work even at 66 and it stuns me. He's still willing to work round the clock and his efficiency is hard to match. I'd want to be as organized as he. And we are like poles apart when it comes to get a party going! I'd sulk in a corner desperately wishing to be home and he, like a true sagittarius, would be surrounded by people listening intently to what he's got to say.
That's another one on my list. Someone I'd want to be like. Him.

Besides, I'm dying to start a novel. Haven't read that in a while. The last one I went through left me richer. I'd also like to download some music. Downloading music is like therapy to me. Always works wonders. I'd also try to fill up this blog-space as often as I can. Now that I've been gifted with 2 months of freedom, I don't see it hard to happen. I call it 2 months of freedom because college exams I don't think of as much of a threat. So I have time till late January when I leave for Mysore to start a new chapter.

So here I am, with this new-found sink, where I'd throw up my complex thoughts and hybrid feelings and find ways to unwind myself and introspect. For there's no one better than me who knows me and writing this is an exercise that can bring me closer to the self. I can't promise how regular I might stay at this but this is what lifts me higher and leaves me unwound. This is what satiates my quest to attain equilibrium in the unbalanced.