The Late Goodbye

He had never seen her so vulnerable before. He couldn't really do anything about it, but that didn't stop him from being concerned. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"There is no other way." She sounded stern. Her voice betrayed no weakness.

"But you would destroy everything in trying to destroy him. You know that."

"I do, but I cannot take this any more. This needs to end, he needs to be taught a lesson."

"When do you plan to do it?"

"The 21st of December."

He took a few moments to work out the meaning of this new revelation. And then, he realised. "Oh, that's cruel."

For a split second, her lips broke into a tired smile. Then the smile vanished just as it had come.

After a long time, she spoke again. "Its all my fault. How could I be so naive! When I first saw him, he looked so different from the rest that I was worried about him. But then I saw him defend himself, find his way in the world - he stood above all the rest. But above all, he understood me like no one did. He wanted to know everything about me. Right then, I chose my favourite. The strongest, the coolest, the most accomplished."

"The fittest." He added, understanding.

"Yes, the fittest." She said, after a pause."And I helped him get fitter. I gave him everything I could. I invited him to exploit me." Her voice was bitter. "Before I could realise, his hold over me had reached dangerous levels. I tried to retaliate, but he knew me too well. By then, he had mastered the art of squeezing out whatever he wanted of me."

"And not just me," She continued, "He oppressed all of his friends, MY friends to win his way. Some he coerced to his bidding, some he just used for his own fun. Later, he ruined them all alike. The ugly bullying monster!"

When she spoke next, her voice was distant. "Looking back, I realise how my entire reasoning for choosing him was flawed. He was the fittest among them all, but he wasn't fit for me. At least the rest of them loved me - he didn't. He understood me, but understanding doesn't guarantee love."

"If he does understand you as well as you claim, wouldn't he know what he is heading to?"

"Oh he does!" Her voice now sounded angrier that it ever had all this time. "He knows. I have given him so many signals - even the blind and the deaf and the dumb could understand them. I have been moody, I have thrown tantrums, I have rained tears, I have been angry for days at a stretch... He knows. He understands. He just doesn't care. He is too comfortable to change, and somewhere in his mind, there is an utter disbelief for anything that could go wrong, anything that could defeat him. He really believes that he will always have his way. I don't know what's brewing in that cunning mind of his, but unless he could brew up another planet, I do not see what options he has."

She looked away. Her anger, mixed with distress and pain was palpable. Her chest was heaving - she was trying hard to keep herself calm. He moved closer to her. "Can I ask you something?"

Her eyes were closed. And her silence was unnerving. He hesitated, and then, moving closer, asked again in a careful voice. "Earth?"

She was startled. "Yes?"

"Earth," he continued, "Is correcting his mistake now as option?"

She looked into his eyes, anger flashing in hers. But he continued nevertheless, in the same calm, careful tone. "What if he accepts his mistakes and starts correcting them starting today? Would you forgive him, for the rest of them, for the rest of the species?"

She stood silent for a long time. When she spoke next, her voice was soft, and steady. "I do not know. I am broken, Mars. I don't know if the damage is reparable. And I would rather see all the species die than see them rot to death in this world Human has bestowed upon them. However, I will decide when the time comes, if it comes at all. But if you ask me - I do not think Human has it in him to correct this. It requires him to give up all of his pride and come to all of us with a modesty that is impossible for him to feel. No, I feel that we will never reach that dilemma. 21st December, 2012 will be a day to remember, for him and for all of us."

Tim Lak Lak

When you are little, she makes you want to grow up. When you are grown up, she makes you want to be young. When you are in college, she makes you crave for a job. When you end up having one, she makes you lust for the good old college days. When you are a subordinate, she makes you long for being the manager. When you do become one, she makes you pine for the carefree life free of responsibilities. When you are forty, she makes you yearn for retirement. When you retire, she makes you ache for the days of youth when you could make your own decisions.

But you never make your decisions. She does.

For some reason, I have always imagined life to be a female. In my mind, she is a fair-skinned woman with dark unkempt hair, big teeth and too much mascara. She is always laughing, her eyes twinkling gleefully. She is the master puppeteer and she is the audience. And she is never satisfied. When you bend, she makes you stand up. When you stand, she makes you whirl round and round till you are dizzy. Before you have regained your balance, she makes you bang your head to her beats. And when your head starts aching, she still wants you to hiphop with a smile on your face. She loves nothing more than making you dance. Whether you like it or not.

The one who always hated waking up early, reaches the office before his friends wake up. The one who was scared of crowds becomes a regular in the city bus. The one who loved cheese and cakes starts living off salads and fruit juice. The one born and brought up in the fresh village air gets used to the congested city atmosphere. The one who loved her mother the most decides to live in a city 1000 kms away. She made them dance to her tunes, and they did.

They are us. Dancing to the music of life.

Tim Lak Lak te Tim Lak Lak.

The Hourglass

Years ago, our country became a slave because some people who should've been strong, became weak, because some people who should've have been honest and proud, sold themselves. Did they know then, that they will be looked down upon by their future countrymen? Did they know then, that they will be blacklisted in history, forever?

And then there were some who stood up against. Some small, some big, some nationwide, some unnoticed, unknown. They too created history, a legendary one at that. What did they think of when they stood up? Did they know that the small things they were doing like walking to a seacoast and not wearing foreign clothes, will become an example for generations to come? Who were they? Were they just common people who became one with a leader, or were they wise seers, who knew they would inspire many more in their wake?

Right now, every present moment becomes a past every moment. Does it matter? What I'm doing, will it count? Do I belong to this timeline, to this history created every moment? How will my future generations judge me? Will I be mentioned in their books, will I be talked of in their stories? What will they brand me as? Will I be the weak one, who backed out when he was needed the most? Will I be the rebel, who dreamt of a better tomorrow for them? Or will I be a nobody, just.. a nobody?

[I wrote this post when I decided to attend the candlelight vigil in support of Anna Hazare. I wondered whether the event will come up in the history of India sometime. And if it did, I didn't want it to run like: "India was going to the dogs. A man named Anna Hazare decided to revolt against corruption, but the movement was unsuccessful because he didn't get enough support." What I mean is - you never know ; you might be creating history just by lighting a candle in a park.]

Chapter I: Harakiri

She walks in a trance, a mere collection of broken pieces, held together by an overpowering, all-consuming darkness. Her smile is fake, her eyes are blank, her heart is maimed, her brain is dead. She used be different, the contrary, and now she cannot remember why, or how - her memory is handicapped. The ghosts of her past floating in her eyes, demented, disoriented, she walks, she is in a trance..

She is drowning, falling into the abyss, and there is nothing that can stop her fall. She is out of breath, suffocated, she knows she is going to die, soon. The weight all over her body is unbearable, and yet, she is weightless. Water has such a weird temperament - it drowns the one who is struggling to survive, and floats the one who's already dead...

Darkness closes in on her. It is all that is around her, confining her to her own wretchedness. Her lips are parched, and her eyes are wet. She prays, desperately, between her sobs and hiccups, for the unknown saviour.. She yells, she shouts, she pleads, she begs, more tears fall down, her throat goes dry.. She falls on her knees, with her hands folded and eyes closed, praying for the one Deliverer, her rescuer.. please.. please..

Please...



Chapter II: Saisei

How does one describe the light that breaks her trance?
It is like the rays of the sun which break through the clouds and announce the dawn, and a dead man wakes up, sleepily, grudgingly, but definitely..
It is like a small ray peeping out of a slit at the end of the tunnel, which whispers of hope; and the weary pace quickens. Stumbling, falling, and rising again, she runs. The trance is broken, her brain is awake, her eyes are alive - they have seen light..

She can feel the pull, a hand grasping hers, bringing her closer to the surface. A fresh breath enters her body, fills her lungs, she coughs, and sputters, but she breathes in life. The surface, dark and dreary from below, now gleams like a thousand diamonds. She can feel her weight, but the burden is gone..

Knock.. knock, what is that? Something shakes around her.. KNOCK! Is it the ground itself? BAM! With a crash, the walls break, the confines are destroyed, and light floods in - the light of her Saviour, her angel. In this flood, her misery is washed away, her thirst is quenched.

The chaos is over, and the silence is silenced. The music has finally begun..


Chapter III: Wind

Thanks..

For what?

For.. For coming..

You know, if you wanted me to come, you shouldn't have closed the doors around you.

Huh? I.. I..

Yes, you closed them, yourself.. The music was always here, you muted it... The fresh air isn't my gift, its your birthright.. The light isn't mine, its your own.. You denied all that.. to yourself..

Please dont riducule me.. I became miserable, but before that I had a sound mind.. Who in their senses would do that to themselves?

Everyone does. You are a little to the extreme..

No! You don't know anything of this! The pain, the suffering, the torture, its incredible.. Why would anyone do that to themselves?! How could anyone do that to themselves?!

Don't get so worked up. Its human tendency to find a justification for every failure. They tend to find reasons for being sad, instead of finding reasons for being happy. They are amazingly intelligent, intelligent enough to fool themselves into a selfimposed misery.

But I was at the very bottom.. the darkness was abysmal.. the pain was unbearable.. and I couldn't do anything..!

Yes, thats what helped you win over everything.

What? Being at the abyss?

Yes, at the very bottom, all you can do is rise. After forgetting everything, all you can do is remember. In the pitfall of failure, when you cant fall any more, when your reasons are finally over, and justifications aren't needed, you rise above everything, and win!
A baby is always happy, coz all he can do is grow, learn, be better.. and like that baby, you are now reborn..


From the bottom of my heart,  I thank you, Masashi Kishimoto-san, for giving me Gaara and Naruto, and with all the gratitude that I can muster, I thank  Toshio Masuda, for composing Wind..



Chapter IV: Naitsuu

I thought I wouldn't need to see you again.

You sound as if you don't want to be here.

Oh, no no. I am just scared. You have such groundbreaking troubles. What is it this time?

Something's wrong.

Clearly, what?

Well, actually, everything's alright.

And?

That's wrong!

Wow! You are a miracle of nature!

Huh?

Being euphemistic, that's all. I meant to say that I don't understand you at all.

You see, everything is alright. I am at peace with myself and in line with the world. I am happy - not always smiling, but happy. I feel so content; Nobody notices it, but I know its there. I don't know how to put this into words.

Then don't.

Huh?

Donn't waste your time in telling me something I already know.

But you see, I... I don't deserve it! There are so many people around me who did everything right - they sacrificed themselves, they gave it their best - and they are still not happy. This is so unfair, so very wrong, it doesn't make any sense! It____

(Chuckles)

Don't laugh. You don't know how_____

I do know. You think too much though. Good, bad, right, wrong, sensible, nonsense, fair, unfair - why does this matter so much?YOu say you are happy, yet your eyes are wide with fear - do you even know that? What are you scared of?!

Of loosing everything! Dont you see? I have everything - everything to lose!

(Laughs)

You have a weird sense of humour.

No, you are a funny creature. You rose up so fearlessly when you had nothing. Rose yp for what? For this very moment! And when you have made it till here, you fear everything! Do you still doubt my sense of humour?

(Silence)

I see, you are speechless. Finally.

No. Its this feeling which suddenly crops up in my mind sometimes when I am smiling - and the smile stops midway. I feel as if every smile is rented. So one day, I would have to pay for each one of them with my tears. This isn't a perfect world. Then why is my life so?

It's not.

Sorry?

Your life is not perfect.

What do you know of it?

Really? Are you telling me that everything is flawless all around you? Every morning, when you wake up, there is nothing that saddens you. The weather, the work, the people - nothing daunts you. Is that the way of it? Does the world dance to your tunes, human? Is it that you want nothing more in life?

No... That's not how it is.

Then why do you feel so?

Because, I just feel so...

Now we are talking. Happiness is not something to be achieved, it is to be felt. You can not judge it as fair or unfair, because its just there. Only, most people forget to feel it.

How can one forget to do something as important as feeling happy?

By doing the opposite of remembering what happiness is. It is like this - currently, you have just decided to be happy. But its all you - your resolve making you so strong from within, your confidence in looking up to every problem instead of looking down upon yourself, your attitude of finding solutions instead of finding problems. And this is a very powerful weapon. Pity is, people do not realise how powerful it is unless they have it.

So, my happiness and the apparent perfection, is just my way of looking at things, is it? Does it mean that all of this is just an illusion?

(Chuckles) And does that mean, on further extrapolation, that everything - all life - is just an illusion? There are all sorts of questions. But that, my dear, is the domain of philosophers.

Aren't you one?

Oh, I am. You aren't. Not yet at least.

So I might become one in future, is it?

That, I believe, is up to you.

A Gallop

When you do something that you have always wanted to do, like you know, always always wanted to do with all your heart, doing it finally gives you a sense of fulfilment, even if that thing you wanted was very trivial. I knew this was one of those content moments when I lay face up, looking at the blue skies above me. My head rested on her head, my legs on the base of her tail. The five and a half foot creature below me was a mare named Megha.

Even as a kid, I had always been fascinated by the world of the ancient kings and queens and princesses. Above all, I had been crazy about battles and wars, and ancient warriors with their horses and swords and spears. And it has been one of my dearest dreams to learn all the skills of a warrior - sword fighting, archery, spear throwing, and of course, riding a horse. And as my luck would have it, there was a Riders Club at the Essar Township in Hazira, where i was doing my PS1 in the summer of 2008.

Riders Club had a vast lush green ground, and in the centre of these lawns was a circular, sandy patch of land, meant for the learners. They had eight mares, one horse and a few foals maintained in excellent shape. There were Chandni and Bijli, Noor Jahan and Roshni, Suraj and Pawan, and the most beautiful of all, Megha – a sheer black-skinned mare, with a single white spot on her forehead. I wanted to ride her the moment I saw her, tall and gleaming in the sun, strutting around proudly.

But the coach would have none of it. He said that Megha was the most violent of all the beats, and I couldn’t ride her for two months at the least. Instead, I was to mount Noor Jahan, a chestnut coloured mare with a calm air around her. The coach told me that she was the most good natured of all of them, and so beginners always rode her for a month or so.

It was a good thing she was so calm, because riding wasn’t as easy as it looked. The first speed, walking as they called it, was easy enough (as long as the horse didn’t jerk a leg or sway its head without any warning). But the tough part came at the end of the lesson, when the coach announced that we were to perform some exercises to remove the fear of riding a horse.

Honestly speaking, the exercises were much more fearsome than the riding itself. They made us support our weight on our hands rested on the mare’s mane, n then lift the whole body from the saddle, legs dangling in the air (Luckily, the horse was supposed to be stationary during all this). I wondered what would happen if Noor Jahan chose the time to suddenly give herself a jerk and start trotting. The coach even made us lie down on the beast completely, face up, with just our arms to hold the saddle. It was supposed to remove all fear, you see.

The next speed was trotting, which is faster than walking but slower than galloping. It seemed fairly simple to look at, but I realised it was a back break when I sat on the horse, and it started tossing me up in the air every time it rose while trotting. Three rounds in the arena, and my back hurt because of all the ups and downs. The trick was, the coach said, to move up and down in the saddle with the rhythm of the horse, which I admit wasn’t that easy. The fact that I was just five-feet-two made it even more difficult.

But very soon, those 15-20 minutes spent riding became the most eventful minutes of my day. As more people joined, Noor was employed for the newcomers, and I got to ride different horses. I rode Pawan a few times, a snowy white Indian horse, shorter and stockier than the rest of his mates. And then one day, Pawan was ill, Noor was busy and so were the other mares. The only one left for me was, yes, Megha! I was overjoyed!

Mounting her - it felt like heaven, but riding her felt like, well, being really close to heaven. She trotted like there was no one astride her; I had one hell of a time telling myself that she isn’t trying to throw me off herself. I pictured Aragorn in my head, and told myself that I had to brave this if I’m to become a rider like him. (Yes, I’m that weird. And if you don’t know Aragorn, you are so.) An interesting moment came when we were doing the exercises and I was lying on her back, when suddenly she jerked one head and started walking briskly. Luckily the coach had anticipated this, so he had been standing nearby to control her if need be.

But well, all good things end too soon. Within 3 weeks of my training, it started raining in Hazira. And when it rains at the Coast, it rains for days at a stretch. After a three day spat of rain, I visited the Club, only to see our arena all muddy and the lawns submerged in water. One thing was certain, it would take days to dry up completely and be suitable for the hooves of a horse, and by that time, it would start raining again. So thus my training was cut short.

But nevertheless, I was happy to have lived my dream, though for a short time. I know I’m going to become a fairly good rider one day, but till then, these small memories will remain to be one of the most beautiful ones I have had.