the ganges underneath the moon...
a quiet gush of air...
a puff of glee on my face...
music for soul...
no connections...no boundaries...
just me and the endless sky...!!

Lonely SuMMMer

With ‘Lonely September’ by Plain White T’s playing in the background and I so loving it, it would be a shame if I fail to honor it by naming the post likewise.

But, the heck, neither this is September nor it’s lonely by any chance (though the desire of falling in love subsists: P). So, I would keep the lonely and tweak the latter to su-MMM-er.

So the title goes, “Lonely SuMMMer”. (As if you are too idiot to be told again: P)

But even the former (i.e. lonely) is a misfit after I bought my first android. Now it’s just tad loneliness and too much ‘social’. Though it has gouged a big hole in my pocket (not so big: P), but it’s totally worth it \m/.

(sorry ‘symbian’…I expressed my deep for you in my last post and it was just a couple of weeks later that I ditched you…but I love you…just as I love my granny: P)

Anyways, let’s cut the drivel.

So, back on topic…

Yesterday as I sped back to my refugee from work yesterday, I so craved for mangoes (the AAMSUTRA add made me lust more: P) and all-of-a-sudden, I was catapulted to the times when I was a kid.

The long summer break when we used to pilgrimage to dadi’s and nanni’s (especially dadi’s)…

We used to live in a suburb and that summertime visit to the city of lakes, Bhopal, was awaited year long.

Waking up to the best parathas and a glass of bournvita wala milk and then rushing out to play cricket under the scorching sun with my cousins and a bunch of idiots from the colony, of whom I hardly remember anything, made up the pre-noon session.

And then followed the lusty treat of mangoes…the ‘meant-to-be’ supplement were consumed like lunch with greed and passion.

And winning the pulpy stone that my mother used to core out of mango (I would rather call it AAM KI GUTHLI) at the end was such a delight.

I so miss the times we used to play cricket in the scorching heat under the shade of the GIGANTI C mango tree that lay in the periphery of 119/15, Shivaji Nagar,… and when we used to occasionally slip into the kitchen to have that mouthwatering mix of bournvita and shakkar.

I miss when my Baba used to take us to Gautam Nagar in the evening and we used to have lots of Golgappe and ice-cream. K

(Miss you Baba)

And yeah, I am totally wrong in saying that it’s no way lonely.

Nothing, be it your new phone, your laptop, facebook, twitter, blog or whatever…nothing can make life as good as it is with the dear ones.

Now it’s bad…it has been. It’s dead lonely now.

P.S.- Tribute to all those who have been a part of this beautiful journey. 

         (varun malik, kumud sharma, tarun mallik, neema sharma, shuchita malik, atul malik, ashish malik)

P.S.- photo courtes: Kumud Sharma.

Adding life to days...

I am the happiest when I get to cook and today was one such fortunate day. While I marinated chicken and watched for the zillionth time, S01E14 of F.R.I.E.N.D.S., an unusual thought crossed my mind. I noticed that I am not growing up.

...I still love the age-old Symbian, I watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S., I order the same cuisines wherever I go, I never even consider changing my laptop’s background, I never try to befriend new people, even the ringtone hasn’t changed since long.

But then, is it wrong to love what you love? I don’t think it is.
There have been changes…major changes. I have shifted to a new city; I have a changed life-style, and I have so well adapted to it.

Is it not enough of a change and a sign of growing up? It definitely is.

But then, why has the excitement died out?

After a daylong session of introspection and observation, I could only conclude that one stops growing up only when he already has grown up too much to have grown out of life. He holds so tightly those things of past that the passage for new things is no more open. And its then that the experiment part takes a back seat and he loses all those moments that he would have scored to laugh at and speak about had he kept the doors open.

One closes the door for new things and the list of special moments grows shorter relative to life and at some point, life starts to seem bland.

Life will always be a little shit, but with these little sparks that a little change/experimentation brings in, one can live on and on with glee.

And with this learning, I am going to hit the road right away and drive a good 30 kms for the station-wali-chai post mid night.

Who knows what’s waiting ;)

P.S. - the hiatus has been long…it’s not that I haven’t pondered writing or the desire to connect with this virtually real world has waned, it’s just the dearth of a subject/muse. But I plan to come here a little more regularly with better stuff.

P.S. - I did not intend to put this post up (so much to learn type) but then the desire to be here was incessant and this was what I was, all day, up to.

P.S. – I have just now dug out this ‘never heard’ song, 'home' by 'chris daughtry' and I am badly hooked to it.

P.S. – winters this time around are inclement here and it feels so bad to even peek out of the quilt. God! Please repeat Sunday in succession.

P.S. – and by-the-way, butter chicken was awesome :) …I would have shared a pic but alas! I was too engrossed in devouring it.