Love rains' Alternate End!

For all those who wish all our stories, both fictional as well as nonfictional, had happy endings that would take your heart away, here is an alternate ending to my story written by Bhavesh. I loved it Bhavesh. Thank you so much. Here it is:

He came to her with something in his hand. Her heart skipped a beat. “What’s this?”, she asked excitedly. “A surprise”, he said with a big smile on his face, “and make sure you come”, he continued. He handed her the card and left. She didn’t look at it because she was busy watching him go. Two full minutes later, she looked up at the card. There was a bright red heart at the corner and her name written on it. And with a heart beating faster than the Mumbai trains, and fingers shaking faster than those tracks, she opened the card, only to find a marriage invitation with Amit and her name written on it.. and it had a small note in there... So what did you think Miss... I was just boring and not sensitive enough to see all that ocean of love in your eyes all these times... and if there is anything stopping you from coming to me to express your feelings, here's my boring way of conveying you... that I reciprocate the feelings...and let's give this story an ending that most lovers would want!!!

Love Rains....

Disclaimer: This is totally a figment of my imagination. Resemblance to any, living or dead, is strictly coincidental. :)


Lisa looks at the wipers that go swoosh swoosh on the windshield as the rain lashes on it with full power and she starts to feel that this is extremely romantic. She also has her FM radio station on full blast to assist her in creating the mood as it plays the extra mushy, extra sugary Bollywood love songs. She hums along as she drives through the bylanes in Juhu that have been lended extra clean by the little streams of rainwater gushing through and wiping off the otherwise dirt and mud. She breaks into a big blush as she sees his face in her mind. She keeps smiling to herself the whole time as she reminisces on how ‘love’ entered her life and changed it forever. Maybe not her life yet, but certainly her thoughts and her dreams. She has this parallel life that is now conjured up in her mind and hopes that one day, it will all come true.

Amit, quintessential, baby-faced and a reticent guy, who was perfectly happy to keep to himself. She first met him at The Blue Penguins Inc. where she has been working for almost a year now. Whenever a joke was flung in the air, everyone would be laughing their guts out, while you could just never get anything more than a smile from him. Though he had a decent sense of humor himself, he never participated in their ‘full-on masti’ parties where they danced, drank and blabbered mindlessly. She thought he was too ‘serious’ in life and lot of times ‘boring’.

When Mumbai was blessed with heavy downpours in the monsoons, which happened many a times, people like Amit worried about how to get home. But Lisa would be very excited because she thought of such times as an opportunity for an adventure. She dreamt of getting soaked in the rain, stomping in the puddles and maybe bumping into the man of her dreams. He was too real and she was too filmy. On one such day, she had to share a cab home with him. She kept asking the cab driver to keep stopping for the hot and spicy vada pavs and bhuttas while Amit kept fussing about the traffic and unwanted delays and just itching to get home. She remembers Shweta asking her the next day, “so how did it go with him”? She had always been teasing her with Amit. And she replied, “oh c’mon, he is just too boring for me okay. He’s a nice guy, but not my types yaar”.

Then what had changed. Why this so boring and serious guy had suddenly become the hero of her dreams? Why couldn’t she just stop thinking about him? Why and how had she fallen in love with someone not her types?

It was the new year eve’s party at La Fiesta. They had got special passes for this party that had been the talk of the town this season. Amit, as usual had preferred to not go, but this time, Lisa had insisted. She thought that if he would tag along and see how much fun it really is, it’ll lighten him up a bit. The music was excellent and perfectly ripe with the latest hits and she was gyrating high and fast to it totally loving it. And Amit stood in a corner with a glass of wine in his hand and kept watching them dance. She called him out many a times to come join her, but he didn’t budge. Then came the slow numbers. Everyone picked a partner. She went up to him, took his hand, led him to the dance floor and put them around her waist. He smiled a big smile at her, flashing his teeth, and this was the first time she noticed how cute he really was. This was the first time she noticed him from up so close. As the song progressed, she kept her head on him and just swayed with the lilting music. But the music gave way to this sense of comfort she suddenly felt with him. His arms, she had never realized he had such strong arms, had blanketed her in the warmest manner and she found herself feeling completely safe and secure with him. She forgot about everything and everyone as she stayed cocooned with his head resting on hers. When the song stopped playing, she found it very difficult to let him go. She wanted time to stand still.

The new year presented her with the most special gift of love. Lisa found herself paying extra attention to what she wore and how she looked before she left for work. She found herself wanting to talk with Amit more and more and hoping he was looking at her too. She found herself defending him if anyone else called him a ‘nerd’ or didn’t want to include him in any of their gatherings. She knew she had slipped, in love. In love with someone not her types. And so strongly attracted she was to him that it consumed her every minute and every second of her waking hours. Not to forget the vivid dreams in her sleep.

It had been 6 month now. The monsoons had come back. Lisa was on her way to Shweta’s birthday party in Juhu. The FM station played the very same song on which they had danced at the party. And she found herself blushing again as she thought of Amit. She was dreaming of melting in his arms as he held her head up against her with his big hands and they kissed. She was dreaming of dancing on his feet. She was dreaming of the warmest embrace she didn’t want to get out of. She felt that she couldn’t wait anymore. She couldn’t keep it bottled up. And she couldn’t wait for him. He was too shy to let her know if he did feel anything for her. It was up to her to get things moving. Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be the day she decided.

Lisa dressed up extra nice the next day. She wore her favorite red kurti and sprayed some extra ‘Chanel No. 5’. She was fidgety the whole time. She kept looking at him from her desk lest he would disappear suddenly. But she didn’t have to wait too long. He came to her with something in his hand. Her heart skipped a beat. “What’s this?”, she asked excitedly. “A surprise”, he said with a big smile on his face, “and make sure you come”, he continued. He handed her the card and left. She didn’t look at it because she was busy watching him go. Two full minutes later, she looked up at the card. There was a bright red heart at the corner and her name written on it. She just ripped the card from the envelope as her heart was beating so fast that she couldn’t contain it any more. It had a baby pink tissue-like transparent paper which she flipped …..to read…. Amit weds Sunita …. and the card just fell from her hands. She felt numb and unable to think or feel anything. She heard the thunder but didn’t pick her umbrella as she started to walk outside. And as the tears fell from the heaven up above, it soaked her body, heart and soul.

Wanted!

We all have this inane desire to feel wanted. By which I don't mean we want our pictures to adorn the walls of the local police station. Na-ah!! But to feel wanted, by the people we love. To feel needed, to feel we make a difference in someone's life, to feel loved.

To feel wanted has been one of the most driving forces of human nature. No matter how much we preach of living independently, it is our association and the following dependence on each other that will lead us through our life. It starts from the time we are babies. A baby wants his mother to hold him and cuddle. A toddler wants his father to clap at his antics. A schooler wants his family to praise his accomplishments. A teenager wants to be accepted in the peer circle. A lover wants his partner to love him. A husband wants his wife to support him. A new mother wants her baby to call her mommy. And I want my blog to be read and commented on...lol. And the cycle goes on. We all, at one point of time, resort to what I call ASPs (attention-seeking practices), both good and bad to attract attention in whatever form there is. We want to be talked to, want to be heard, and want to be seen.

The need to be wanted defines the very purpose of our existence. The logic and the underlying cause for your presence in this infinite world. To feel needed justifies our being. The day we don't feel needed or wanted, depression and loneliness enters. And so with it, the need to discontinue living, and get extinct. To be at a place without any need to be there is a very lonely island to be at. We rather just stop breathing. And no matter how hard we try to become an island ourselves, we will not sustain. A couple of days back, I watched this Danny Boyle movie, 127 hours. Aaron Ralston is an avid mountain climber and loves to run away on such expeditions all by himself, without informing anyone of his wanderings. On one such adventure, he slips down a narrow canyon with his hand stuck under a huge rock. After 5 days of surviving on a bottle of water, he finally cuts his arm with a pocket knife and runs home to the safety of his people. After which, he never stepped out without leaving a note. Moral of the story: You can't conquer independence without the crowd. You need them and they need you. We need to co-exist with mutual symbiosis. To help others and be helped, to want others and be wanted, to care for others and be cared, to love others and be loved.

Having recognized the need to feel wanted, we also need to understand the importance of making someone feel wanted. Especially the one you love. Break those walls. Let them in. Let them enrich your lives with the beautiful blossoms as in Spring. Not only will they love you with all they have and can, but they will promise you that you won't die a lonely man. This applies however even for the 'not-so-loved'. You have a leak in house, and you need a utility man, a plumber. Shower them with some extra 'bhaav' and 'gratitude' and make them feel wanted. Make them feel that you'd be totally hopeless without them. And trust me, not only will they fix your issue, but they'll throw in a few extra tips and screws too. ;).

But sugar-coating your plea of help comes with responsibility. Responsibility to employ fair and ethical means before and after. Respect and honor needs to go on. Or else, you will be exploiting the 'feel to be wanted' the way it shouldn't be. Distrust and distraught is what will follow, you'll find yourself in waters very shallow. Or may be deep, coz the next time you flush your toilet, it'll all spurt out on you ....lol.

WANT AND BE WANTED IN LOVE AND LIFE,
THAT'LL GET YOU THROUGH THIS ROCKY TIDE.

INDIA - REGLORIFIED!!!

As Team India makes history, and as the entire nation rejoices, and as the media papparazzi-es the heroes, and as facebook expresses every joy and every bit of the tension moments, and as the state governments declare bountiful prizes to its players, I can't help thinking and believing that Cricket is indeed the singlemost religion of India.

We are a diverse land. Diversity in our languages, religions, Gods, customs, and festivals. The Northies dislike the southies, the westerlies dislike the easterlies, the urbans ignore the rurals, and the metros look down on the smaller cities/towns. It's much too chaotic and hard to believe how we live in 'seeming' harmony. But come cricket, it is HARMONY - REDEFINED, it is UNITY - REIDOLIZED, it is INDIA - REINDIANIZED.

The second Dhoni sent the ball spiralling high beyond the field in style, the entire nation bursted with the tri-colored flags. Orange blended with the Green, and the Blue chakra spinned at its best. Celebrities to common man, poor to the rich, politicians to its public, hindus to the muslims, everyone was out on the streets and danced their hearts out. And yes, even drank their 'livers' out...lol. Come to think of it, we don't see this much flag even on the Republic/Independence Day. It was the most unmissable and the most unforgettable night that went down in history as we have never seen the entire subcontinent celebrate anything together like this. And once again, I missed my Bombay, and I missed my India. Complete disregard to caste, color, creed or class and full-on joyous moods were the 'highlights' of the riot that exploded with vivid colors and glorious fireworks......and war-like victory slogans like "Bharatmata ki Jai". INDIA - IN ITS TRUEST AND PUREST FORM.


CRICKET IS TRULY OUR RELIGION AND TEAM INDIA, OUR GODS......;) And as we still bask in the after-glory of bringing home the World Cup and congratulate each other on our victory, lets sing and dance to DE GHUMAKE....GHUMAKE...GHUMAKE!!!

Emotional Overload!!!

I am thinking about the pressure cooker right now. And its whistle. That little toot of a thing that releases the crazy pressure built inside by the steam, just enough to even things out but let the food cook too. Where is our whistle? Don't we need a whistle too? For our mental/stress pressure build-up? For our emotional overload?

We all have different emotions ranging from the good ones to the bad ones, from happiness to sorrow, from excitement to depression, from love to hatred, from contentment to rejection, from stable minds to extremely fragile and fluttering hearts. And many a times, one of these particular emotions takes on more steam than it usually is accustomed to, and overwhelms us with its tsunami-like waves, completing smothering us as we lose control of our ownselves. (Japan is still fresh in our minds, right?) We are left powerless and weak with no ability to think straight. Public will start with its smart-ass wisdom, which truly speaking, just self-consoles and tells us to 'count our blessings'. But how does one deal with all the anguish and pain thats not just in your heart, but has touched your soul and you are not ready to yet 'accept' things and let it go? Is it correct to 'suppress' or 'indulge'? Can we really 'forget' after we 'forgive'?

What I believe is we do no good to ourselves by masking our emotions under sadness, anger, so-called love or peace. Our feelings are never good or bad. They are just that, feelings. And what we need to figure out is a way to transmute them. Not forget, not suspend, not mask, not cover, not hide, not suppress or pretend to ignore them, or stay too busy to not feel them. But instead find a way to release the build-up. It'll probably take a long time, subjective to every person that is, I believe. And I don't know if there is any light at the end of the tunnel. But effort one must put is to embrace our own feelings and then find a less-harsh way to deal with it.

Now what will I do? Or rather, what do I do with my pent-up thingies that have not only a mental , but also a physical effect on my body?

A. Cry. Cry my heart out. Cry it all out. Look at the mirror and fall in love with my puffy red eyes. But cry it out.
B. Dance. Dance hard to the fast hip-gyrating Bollywood numbers.
C. Distract. It will be temporary but will give you some relief from trying so hard to deal with your own self.
D. Go to the beach and scream my lungs out. Oops, the coast is a good three hour drive. An expensive option. Maybe save it for later, when nothing else works. Oh, I miss my Bombay. But imagine going to Juhu beach and yelling out to the sea. I'll have people gather around me in no time and staring at my stupid face, not really sympathizing but hoping I'll do some more drama for their entertainment.
E. They say meditation and yoga are very effective. But hell, I have no patience for that. Breathing in and breathing out while counting in 'thousand-and-one' seconds, no boss, not for me. Atleast not yet.
F. Writing blogs such as this.

Laughing eyes, and an over-enthusiastic face, may hide your true self. But don't play hide-n-seek with your own self and your emotions. Pull them out, hug them tight, tell them its okay to feel the feel, and we'll wait together for 'Time' to take its toll, and in the process, mellow us down as we learn to release our 'steam' whistle by whistle.

Inspiration!!

Inspiration maru kyai chupai ne bethu che,

Inspiration maru mara thi modhu vaari ne bethu che,

Hu gotu badhe, kyai jade nahi ee,

Inspiration maru mara thi risai ne bethu che.

Inspiration mane bahu vaahlu che,

Ena vagar maru astitvaj saav adhuru che,

Duniyaadari ni jhikjhik ma jodaai gayi hu,

Atle maru inspiration maara thi risaai ne bethu che.

Inspiration mane keh chooth thi jeev,

Abhay bani, nidar jeev,

Na dabaav tara jazbaaton ne,

Na taan kar tara hriday ne.

Par sankrai gayi chu hu aa jeevan na bandhano ma,

Khud ne bandhu, ke udu aakash ma,

Samaj choothi gayi che aa aabhas ma,

Atlu pan mara thi risaa ma.

Ene kahyu, vaat maanse toh aavi jaish,

Tane mari saathe duniya ni ser karavish,

Main kahyu shakya nathi, bahu kathin che –

Dil ni vaat maanva ane manaava ma,

Etle maru inspiration aji che eni aad ma.