Monday, May 21, 2012

In your wake



Waking up to your serene smile
cozily wrapped in your embrace
spending the hour nudging and giggling
Life never seemed more fulfilling

A hot brunch in the summer sun
the mild breeze swaying my tresses
leisurely hours with you as the world goes by
Life never seemed more fulfilling

In the mellow creeping hours of dusk
perched on the railing in the patio
a hot cup of coffee and life's small talk
Life never seemed more fulfilling

In the millions of hours to this day
spent wondering where the road leads
dissecting the past dreaming the future
Life never promised to be more fulfilling

Walking by your side fingers entwined
This journey suddenly became effortless
the very road peppered with rocks before
swiftly morphed into a smooth sail

Deb

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Strange Desire...


I saw him in a dark alley leaning gainst the wall
his eyes deep and sparkling were questioning me
I was drawn into the depths of those eyes
I looked and looked away and looked again...
He was a stranger, pulling me into his embrace
my mind warned to leave, my heart tugged to be
I looked away and looked again into the darkness
and found him nowhere to be... the alley was empty
I saw him again in the sunshine at the bay
his eyes sought me but he was a stranger to me
I looked away and looked again hoping it was a dream
but there he stood stark as ever drawing every bit of me
I was drenched in desire to run into his embrace
to look into his eyes and never look away again
My eyes sought him to express this feeling
but found him again nowhere to be... the space was empty
I wish I could know if the vision was for real
if the desire born in me is ingrained forever
I wish the darkness in the alley would dissipate
I wish the daylight would stop playing tricks on me..

Deb

Sunday, March 25, 2012

INDULGENCE


Those memories I left behind trouble my heart again
In this moment, it is raw like it was just yesterday
Time heals everything, but that is just superficial
The core of my soul is still withered and sore

Your troubled heart has found peace at last
Yet I am unhappy in my inherent war
The threads we tied have finally snipped off
Finally we are even in this uneven land

There is happiness all around me, blissful and serene
Yet in my heart its waging wars unseen
Uncertain of the trouble of my heart
I worry and dread the things it might reveal

For one day, I wish the freedom of the wind
Blow unconcerned of anyone but me
For one day I wish to break the invisible shackles
Scout the lanes again hoping to find something of me

-- Deb




Monday, March 19, 2012

Distracted!


How do you kill the feeling of loneliness? How do you respond to having your palms up and out waiting for someone to grasp it and finding it empty? How do you repress the crushing feeling of not having anyone beside you to turn around and share the little things that excite you? How do months and years of feeling the same not help you to deal with it any better? 

Sunday, February 05, 2012

Relationships are by heart

In his dreams, in his fantasies, she was a maiden shrouded in the unknown. She walked on the beach leaving her footprints on the wet sand only to be washed away by the waves. He wanted to reach her, touch her, feel her but she was always an arms length away. She glanced at him sideways and he saw a glance of her huge luminous innocent eyes brimming with tears. Her long unruly hair flying around her blocked his vision of her. He started to fidget. He did not like tears in her eyes and wanted to wipe them off. He raised his hand to reach her face when she turned away from him. He woke up feeling clammy and drenched in cold sweat. He looked around him getting used to the surroundings. There she was standing near the window looking out into the star strewn skies. He still could not see her face. The room was dark and lit by moonlight. He observed her silhouette. She was standing with one hand on the wall and the other on the frame resting her head on the wall. Her face, from what he could see, looked serene. He relaxed!

He did not know who she was. He did not know her. Yet he saw her every living moment and wanted her around. He wanted to find her and know her but was afraid. He was afraid, he would never find her. He was afraid, he would lose her to reality. He walked towards the window determined to see her tonight. He held her by her shoulders and turned her towards him. She looked up into his eyes and he was mesmerized. She was unconventionally beautiful to him. In his hands he found her fingers curled up tight. He slowly released them one by one and straightened her palm. Her hands were delicate and small. She was sobbing softly and her chest rose and fell in his arms as he held her. He was anguished! He did not like tears in her eyes. He pulled her small frame close to him and snuggled her in his arms. His embrace must have broken her restrain for she cried inconsolably. He separated her from his embrace and placed a finger under her chin to lift up her head. She tried to say something but all that came out was a dribble of saliva. He slowly walked her to the couch in the room holding her hands and let her lie down. He sat next to her on the floor and brushed her hair as she slowly drifted into a deep sleep sobbing softly.

An hour later, the nurse found the little girl sleeping peacefully in the next room. The patient in that room survived a terrible car-accident two days before in which he lost his wife and his unborn child. He was sleeping on the floor with his head resting on the arm of the couch and his hands in the little girl's hair. They were both deep in sleep fingers entangled and snuggled close as if finding comfort in each other. The nurse quickly left the room wiping her eyes on her sleeves to call the doctor.

signing off
Deb



Tuesday, January 10, 2012

FROM THE WELCOMING ARMS OF BORDHOMAN

'Bordhoman', a district in West Bengal, India, famous for paddy and potatoes is my new home. This is where my Husband hails from and so after our Wedding, I visited the Ancestral home of my In-Laws over a weekend. This District is punctuated by tiny villages or more appropriately called 'Gram'. As we drove, I could see lush green fields on either side of the narrow roads for miles and miles. My Father-in-Law was pointing out the crops, paddy, mustard, potatoes that were cultivated in those fields. Surprisingly, I never saw potato plants before :). Dense Forests that covered hundreds of acres and spread across states provided shade and respite from the hot mid day heat. As I looked ahead, the road was covered with paddy grains and the car was about to drive over them. That is when I almost screamed, 'Stop'!

Funnily enough, the villagers wanted the vehicles to drive over the grains. It is just a easy and no-expensive means of separating the grains (I am not sure what the process is actually called). On the road-side there were heaps of potatoes lying and wasting. Fun Fact: Potato cultivation is expensive in comparison to most of the other crops. This year, the farmers who cultivate potatoes did not make much money out of it. These thoughts about the Indian rural life were disturbing. A Country where Agriculture is the major occupation, the farmers are and have been suffering, sometimes it is the nature but most of the times it is the Bureaucracy or the System or the Illiteracy!

Depressing facts aside, I remember drawing countless scenic pictures of villages as a child and writing about them and so visiting a Gram and living there was like a leaf straight out of a story book. It is surprising how I lived in India for 27 years and never saw a Gram before. Mud houses, temples, ponds in the backyard, children on bicycles, mud stoves that use coal for fuel! I felt connected to my Motherland, connected to the Nature, Connected to my roots. It was an exhilarating feeling and I loved every minute of it. Yes, there were mosquitoes but there were nets too, and there were caring women who wanted to make my stay as comfortable as possible. It is surprising how welcoming people can be of a perfect stranger. Within minutes, I felt at home and felt wanted.

There was a lady who cooked for the household. Her name was Bani Mashi. I stood by her as she made tea for everyone and asked her name followed by where she lived and who else was in her family. She smiled and I smiled in return. My tea was a little extra sweet. I think she liked me! In Hindu custom, when a woman is married, she leaves behind her life and dons the name and customs of her Husband. So, with my Marriage, I became a Brahmin. This did not make much of a difference to me till I visited my Father-in-Law's Ancestral home in 'Gonpur'. They have a Durga Temple in their front yard!!! That is not it. I took part in a ritual right in the inner quarters of the Temple. That sure was a bummer! It was beautiful and serene. I loved being there and enjoyed the fact that I was by no means uncomfortable. These people were my own and they loved me like their own. It was a proud moment!

This visit to the Basics, made me realize something important, that in Life what matters is the people you meet, the friends you make and retain, the family you had by birth and the family you adopt in this journey of life. Everything else is ephemeral, just an adornment to make life comfortable. Definitely important but not everything. The open heart with which everyone accepted me was remarkable. I realized I was nervous for no reason. These were some of the most interesting and sweetest people I met. What a trip!

Signing off
Deb

Wednesday, November 02, 2011

A hot cup of Coffee


7pm in the empty school corridors, I dump my bags and walk to my favorite corner in Rotman, The Second Cup. I order my coffee and stand to the side letting the next customer to order. Well, this guy asks me, ‘Caffeine craving at this hour? Got work to finish is it?”
I say, “Well no! Just casual coffee break”
He mulls it over then asks me, “But it’s late! Will it not keep you up?”
I smile and say, “No. Coffee never bothers me”
He picks his coffee and says, “Wow! I think I am yet to reach that state” and leaves.

I get my coffee and grabbing a couch I mull the conversation over. I realized that I never ‘reached that state’ actually. Ever since I remember, coffee really never bothered me. I mean, I can have a whole cup of coffee and sleep in a while like a baby.

I have always been a coffee lover but if you ask me which beans are good or which coffee is best where? I will probably just star gaze or something in reply. Truly speaking, I always enjoyed the conversation and ambience that accompanies a cup of coffee more than the coffee itself.

I still remember those days back in Undergrad, when Mom used to get me a hot cup of coffee and I used to take a break from my books and sit with her for the next 30 minutes chatting about nothing important. I probably had my best discussions with Mom in those stolen minutes. I also remember those lonely days in Chennai, when I used to come back from work at 4am regularly getting to see my roommates just once a week on Sundays. We always started the day with a hot cup of coffee and pending week long gossip.

Coffee reminds me of rainy days in Mumbai when I was tired of living alone and used to hate unlocking the door to a dark and empty house. I still thank God that I had friends who love coffee conversations as much as me and were always ready for a cup. I remember locking back the door almost immediately and heading to the closest Barista and spend the next 3-4 hours with mugs and mugs of coffee and tons of laughter.

I loved London City for the open café houses splattered around. I found a good one on the banks of Thames with outdoor heaters. I spent innumerable hours sitting there sipping at this hot wonderful beverage and observing people around me many of whom were new to the city and many who were natives equally in awe of the great river and the beautiful city.

I think about my family in San Francisco. Every time I visit them, I am in for a jet lag. Obviously I am up at 6am biding my time until I can no more. I then wad through the halls and end up in the kitchen with the newspaper waiting for someone to wake up. Only my uncle did! We then make ourselves black coffee and sit at the table and discuss the past, present and future of our family over the rich aroma of coffee refreshing every sleepy nerve in our body. It is just blissful!

I am guilty of over hearing conversations around me, some loving words, some funny jokes, some business deals and some serious talk. Personally too, I always revealed my inner most thoughts and feelings better over a cup of coffee than a peg of scotch unlike most.

I have friends who say, “What’s so good about Starbucks? I have had better coffee!” I agree. Starbucks to me is adorable more for its ambience than its coffee. Starbucks like me believes in presenting the right ambience for good conversations and peaceful time. I cannot ignore the fact that Starbucks is artistic, very! And extremely classy! And so I am drawn to it, like a magnet! The green lady makes me smile in my worst moods.

All I want to say is that Coffee makes me nostalgic. Nostalgic about all the good times I spent with the people I love and I relive them every day smiling and relaxing over a hot cup of coffee! Spend some time exploring your thoughts and memories. Believe me, it’s worth every penny!

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Aaj Bhi..

Aaj bhi khwaab unke aate hain, toh aankh bhar aati hain

Woh pal, woh ehsaas dil ke itne kareeb hain

Hosh mein hum unhe yaad karne se katraate hain

Par behoshi mein gehri har ek jazbaat khilke nazar aati hain

Un khayaalon pe mera bas nahi chalta

Dil ke kisi ek kone mein dabi woh ehsaas khud ko jataake

Bas saanson mein unki haseen khushboo chhod gum ho jaati hain…

Sunday, October 16, 2011

I wish...

I wish...

Sometimes in my solitude I see your face floating
in and out of my thoughts like a flash
I reach out to touch you and feel with my fingers
the warmth of your memories one more time

You smile your crooked smile and fade away
an ephemeral shadow just stays behind
My fingers just grasps an empty space
a void left by your mocking smile

I dream of a thousand words I wanna say to you
many a times I respond to your voice
and then the smile on my lips goes back to what it was
when I realize the voice I hear is just my own

I think of a time by the beach with the vast ocean ahead
My head on your shoulders and my hand in yours
The silence of the minutes fading into hours
and yet it felt like we shared a lifetime together

Your words your smile your touch I miss
I miss the couch we watched happy endings together in
The sound of your voice calling my name
I wish I could feel them all again... once... just one more time

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

LOVE, HUGS & MORE.....

Sometimes all we want is a loving word and a hug in spite of how unreasonably we behave. I swear I am not PMSing! I am just depressed with life right now coz nothing, I repeat nothing at all is going right. All day long, when I see my friends post about how they have no work to do or how boring it is at work, I wish I had something to post on similar lines. Every moment of every effing long day I wonder what I am doing wrong. Is it my fault then that I am in such an ugly mood? Is it too much to ask from people close to me to bear with me? I can understand and I can be reasonable but seriously, I don’t want to. Not right now! It just adds to the pain that I cannot talk to anyone because everyone is busy, either in their own lives or in their work. I call Mom to talk about something happy that will cheer me up but like everyone else, she has her own share of problems to talk about. I did not even manage to tell her that I miss her. Dad is angry with me because I acted all grown up and told him that he is being unreasonable. Well, I thought I was grown up and could talk to him on behalf of Mom. But I gather that for him I am still his little girl and I’m not welcome to advise him. So great! Everyone is angry with me. I have been sulking since last night. The one person I thought would be patient with me goes, “Look! Give me a call when you are out of this mood of yours. I don’t know why you are behaving this way.” I don’t know what else can be added to this bloody mood of mine. You must be thinking that these are such inconsequential stuff. I agree! Petty issues! But for me these are big right now. These are clouding my thought process. I just need a hug and my girl friends L

Monday, July 25, 2011

THE RAMBLINGS OF A SOUL ON A SUMMER AFTERNOON

It is again one of those days, when I laze around doing nothing soaking up the heat of the afternoon sun. Memories from past keep flooding back to my mind and my eyes get moist. I miss my school days when by this time i.e., 5 PM, I would run back home to savor the mouth-watering delicacies Mom made for us, Dada and me. He would already be at the table when I reached enjoying the treat and smirk at me because he cycled his way back and never give me a ride. He always was a pompous teenager and would never let me play with him or his friends. Anyways, that was not what I was thinking about. My mind just finds seven different routes to wander about at any given moment. I used to neatly pile my bag in a corner and walk to the table and take my seat. Mom would pat my head and hand me my treat which always managed to vanquish the turmoil of the past hours that I spent day dreaming. I miss Mom’s pat on my head now. I don’t remember most of the incidents from my childhood. For that matter I don’t remember much from 5 years back. The memories are hazy and blotchy like they are not mine, but snippets of someone else’s life. My room-mate manages to land into a rambling about incidents from her childhood days anytime anyone asks her to. It scares me! I sometime wonder if I have dementia! My brother remembers too. Every little thing he did or said in his life and he is four years elder to me! I don’t! Worse, I don’t remember the names of the professors who taught me 3 months back. Well, unless they did something that would never let me forget them. But 3 months is still a short time period to forget. Isn’t it? There is an exception though! I remember clearly all the unpleasant memories of my life. I was discussing this with one of my friends a few days back as we walked back home from class and he said, “It is ‘coz you do not talk about it enough. The more you think about your past and talk about it, the clearer it is. You are so silent all the time. No wonder you cannot remember much.” That set me thinking again. I remember days when Mom used to tell her friends that I am very talkative and gregarious, that I make friends easily and open up to perfect strangers very quickly. Well! That seems to have changed now. Like I said, this was not what I was thinking but my mind has its own mind! There was this time when I was travelling with my Mom and Dada to Kolkatta to spend my summer Holidays with my cousins. We boarded the second class compartment of the Coromandal express from Chennai. It was an extremely hot day and we carried with us a thermocol ice case filled with soft drink cans, about 25 cans. I remember quarrelling with Dada all the way to Kolkatta for my share. I wonder what I would be ready to give away now to live that journey one more time! I want my childhood days back when I was a carefree child whose only worries were her rival in class beating her to the First rank or how to explain to Mom the tongue reddened by licking at a lollipop or why there are Ink spots on the shirt sleeves? I want my childhood days when I refused to sit unless Baba offered me his lap. I would then climb into his lamp and fit my small, thin body comfortably onto his right thigh and right arm and rest there till I slept. I never slept better! I remember Dad coming home after a game of tennis on my 13th birthday and find me sleeping silently. He was surprised ‘coz usually I create a ruckus on my birthdays. He touched my forehead and found it burning hot. He picked me up and took me to a doctor immediately. I had the symptoms of Malaria. On my way back a giant black scorpion crossed our path. I was scared but Baba said that it won’t harm. Just at that moment, it started to move towards my feet. I was frozen with fear. Baba killed it with a big stone then and bent and gave me a bear hug. I realized that he would have let it go had I not been there. I miss my Baba’s bear hug.

Hmmm! I do remember a little!! There! my room-mate is back already and I am still rambling. I think I bored enough and I should get going now…

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Himmat Karne waalon ki haar nahi hoti...

I watched a beautiful hindi movie today titled, "Maine Gandhi Ko Nahi Maara.." with the lead roles played by Anupam Kher and Urmila Matondkar. It was a beautiful story depicting a Family's, especially a daughter's struggle with their old father suffering from pseudo dementia/dementia/alzheimer's. Here is a poem recited all through the movie written by hindi poet - Sri SuryaKant Tripati Nirala. Sri Harivansh Rai Bachchan was mentioned as the poet in some places.



lehron se dar kar nauka paar nahi hoti

himmat karne walon ki haar nahi hoti....


nanhi chinti jab dana lekar chalti hai

chadti deewaron par sau baar fisalti hai

mann ka vishwas ragon mein sahas banta hai

chad kar girna, gir kar chadna na akharta hai

akhir uski mehnat bekar nahi hoti

koshish karne waalon ki haar nahi hoti....


dubkiyan sindu mein gota khor lagata hai

ja ja kar khali haath laut aata hai

milte na sehej hi moti pani mein

behta duna utsah issi heiraani mein

mutthi uski khali har baar nahi hoti

himmat karne walon ki haar nahi hoti....


asaflta ek chunati hai sweekar karo

kya kami reh gayi dekho aur sudhaar karo

jab tak na safal ho neend chain ki tyago tum

sangharshon ka maidaan chhod mat bhago tum

kuch kiye bina hi jai jai kaar nahi hoti

himmat karne walon ki haar nahi hoti....


Saturday, July 23, 2011

It was you...


It was you whom I saw once and never wanted to look away
my heart beat like it never did before you came my way
It was your hand I held once and never wanted to let go
resting in my arms a moment, the next away you go

It was in your eyes that I found a reason to smile
dreams about you that stop me from resting a while
To hear your heart I shut away the entire world
restlessly in wait for a word that may escape your hold

It was you that i saw and wanted nothing more
Its your love that I need and then nothing more
sharing with you, caring for you
It is you that I will ever want and then nothing more..

Deb

Thursday, June 02, 2011

Cultural Paradox

The Sun shined bright on the cold wet land
trees in their prime were green as they sang
the soft whistle of the blowing wind everywhere
as merry Canadians skipped and jumped hand in hand

In my land, the Sun is an old friend,
he visits often shining and sizzling bright
brown, well baked people of mine dread my friend
and hope trees and roofs save them from his might

Time spent in the Sun was forever condemned
where fair skin was considered a virtue priceless
and so today this sight I witness amuses me
happy faces sprawled on the lawns enjoy the Sun immense

Some crave a skin tone lighter, some wish it was a shade dark
a frivolous observation but tells so much about human thoughts
nothing is ever sufficient, nothing is ever right
some think of it as a boon and some think of it as a curse...
I think it is just another example in the theory of paradox!!

Deb

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Aaj Phir...

Aaj phir ek paigaam mila… aaj phir unki yaad aayi

Bujhti huye lou ki roshni jaise achaanak tez ho uthi…

Phir dard ka aalam chaaya.. har taraf ek adhoorapan

Aaj phir woh naam labon pe aaya… aaj phir unki yaad aayi

Deb

Sunday, April 03, 2011

Intezaar

Mohabbat ke panaahon mein sukoon kuch aisi hain

Ki chot khakar bhi har baar hum wahi laut aate hain

Kabhi aasoon, kabhi khushi, kabhi gum toh kabhi hasi

In maasoom se ehsaason ke liye har waqt tadapte rehte hain


Har safar pe akele chal padte the hum par, Ab akelepan se darr lagta hain

Ek humsafar gar saath na ho toh safar naaqaam sa lagta hain

Haath pakadke chale jo raah par, ek aise saathi ke talaash mein

Ab har peher, har lamha sanjog se ladte rehte hain


Kabhi phir woh hasi gunje, kahi phir woh hume miljaaye

Beeti palon ko yaad kar haste the, woh din phirse aajaaye

Useke khayaalon mein gum ab din raat mein badalti rehti hain

Phir se uske baahon mein khoneko har waqt tadapte rehte hain


-Deb

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Meethi

The setting sun as pleasant as always threw myriad colors across the sky. It was no longer clear where the sky ends and where the lake began. It was silent except for the birds chirping away madly as they return home to the waiting arms of their loved ones. She sat there on the banks of the lake throwing one pebble at a time into the still water and watching them make ripples in the lake. Her feet dipped in the lake she felt the cool water lapping at her ankles. It soothed her mind and made her feel peaceful. This was her favorite spot, by the lake in the shades of the huge banyan tree. She used to come here every Sunday with her father. She used to listen while he told her about his life as a kid playing in the paddy fields in sun and rains, about his mother’s cooking, about him stuck in his room when the storms outside made the palm trees swing all the way down to the earth and up again. She tried to visualize his stories. For some reason they were always in black and white. She tried to color them up but the colors did not quite fit. Her mobile was ringing. She should go now, Ayan must be home. She always forgot time when she came here.

“Hello Ayan,”

“Where are you Mitthi? Do you know the time? I was worried”

“Oho! I’m sorry Ayan, Just got stuck with some work. I’ll be home soon. Seeya then”

She sighed and picked up her bag to walk home. She never quite figured out why she never could tell Ayan about this place. She wanted to but probably Ayan would not understand or he might. She just never tried. Strange how many things we give up in life before even trying.

Mitali met Ayan an year back at a friend’s place. Always the silent one, she felt a bit out of place in the party. It was her friend Sudha’s house warming party. Mitthi helped herself to a glass of scotch and perched on the patio wall. She swirled the amber liquid in the glass and took a clean swig. Eyes closed, head thrown back she felt the warmth seeping down her throat…

“Careful! An inch more and it will hurt”

She choked in her drink. Spurting she quickly opened her eyes to see who chose to disturb her serenity.

“Ayan” he said with his hand out in an attempt to hold her.

“Thanks. Mitali”

“Is it alright if I share this place with you? The music in there is a tad too loud for me” said Ayan

“you do not seem to me as a person bothered by loud music,” Mitthi said with an edge in her voice.

Ayan did not seem to notice this. He made himself comfortable next to her and took a deep swig of his drink.

“So what are you drinking?” Ayan asked.

“JD on the rocks” she said

“Aha! Is that to prove to the world your strength?” Ayan said and turned to take a swig.

“Why would you think so?” she asked lifting her eyes to meet his.

“Well may be because you’ve been here for an hour now with that drink in your hand and eyeing the Pistachio ice cream on the food counter instead?” Ayan said stifling a laugh.

Mitthi’s eyes enlarged and then crinkled into a laugh.

“You have beautiful eyes” Ayan said.

“Really? Everyone says so. I don’t know. I can’t see” she said.

That was a year ago. Mitthi and Ayan came a long way since then. Ayan did not know then that it was not the ice cream Mitthi was eyeing, it was a dream. But he knows now. He knows where Mitthi walks off to every evening at Sunset. He is always behind her to protect her but never lets her know. He lets her think that she takes those few steps alone every day to the lake side to spend few moments with her father and her childhood self.

Today, as Mitthi walks back home to Ayan, Ayan walks behind her giving her company like he promised himself he would a year ago when he looked into her eyes and fell in love with her.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Phir unhi galiyon mein

raat ke gumnaami mein bhatakte huye
hum phir chal pade unhi galiyon mein
jis gali kabhi muskuraate the hum
phir maayoos hoke laut aaye

jis ko hadh se badhkar chaaha tha
usine aankhon mein aasoon bhardiye
waqt kabhi karz rakhta nahi
yeh chot khaake samajh paaye hum

phir kyun us raste phir se chal padhe
jis raste roshni der talak rukti nahi
dhalte huye suraj ki panaahon mein baithe
yuhi har lamha guzarjaaye khayaalon mein gum

ek pal ko darr bhi lagta hain ki
phir shaayad dard na seh paayenge
bas ek umeed ki sahaare toh jeete hain sab
aur is zindagi mein jeeneko kya rakha hain...

Deb

Monday, November 22, 2010

Tara

“Tara! Tara!”

There was a note of frustration in the voice she heard.

“Tara… Tara! Here you are. I was looking around for you all over the place. Why don’t you just leave a trail behind? It would make life easier for me!”

Tara turned to look at her friend, her dark wavy hair in tangles. She looked as if she just had a tryst with the wind.

“What were you doing up here? Back to your world of fantasies, huh?”

Tara didn’t bother to answer. This was her secret world and no one, not even Richa was allowed to invade it.

Hey Richa, leave dame. Just leave me alone!

Tara turned back and looked out at the dark space above. It always made her wonder looking at the bright stars.

Why’ Tara’? Why was I named Tara?

“Hmmm… well I guess you don’t need me here. Do cover yourself Tara, its cold out here. I’ll be downstairs”

Mysterious Girl! She never stops amazing me, thought Richa.

Tara heard footsteps receding behind her. She turned and caught a final glimpse of her best friend’s shadow.

I want to share so many things with you girl, but I can’t. Hope I’ll do it someday!

She lowered her gaze to the bright lights of the city spread in front of her recreating the image of the dazzling sky right above. The heights of Mumbai are what took her breath away. She gasped at their sheer display of power. She could not take her eyes of the tall structure standing before her, her grace, her elegance, her strength intoxicated Tara. She closed her eyes to feel the adrenaline rush through her blood. She could not wait to reach there,

Where she belonged!

Richa woke up with the whistle of the coffee maker. She turned and picked up her watch from the bedside table. 5AM??? She turned to look at Sushil. He was still deep in sleep. These days Sushil comes home so late, he hardly gets time to sleep

What is Tara doing at this hour?

She walked out of her room heading towards the Kitchen. Richa’s kitchen was the most beautiful room in her house, specially designed by her best friend Tara. Though Tara didn’t have a job yet Richa always believed in her capabilities. Right from the hostel days in the cold hills of Siliguri, Richa had known the beautiful, vibrant Tara. It was Richa’s idea to get her house designed by Tara.

“An Amateur designing my house? No way” is what Sushil said.

Richa was confident and so without his knowledge asked Tara to visit her.

All doubts Sushil had about Tara’s capabilities were washed away the moment he saw her get down the bus in her bright yellow Salwaar Kameez that day six months back. Richa smiled at the thought now.

Tara had an aura of elegance around her, a charisma which made men think I wish I had met her before! And women to look back and regard her grace with an eye of jealousy. This Richa knew from the beginning.

She saw Tara sitting by the table with a pen in her hand, a mug of steaming hot coffee and a mountain of papers in a neat pile by her side. She was one of those women who stressed on being tidy & organized in the weirdest situations. Richa smiled as she entered the Kitchen quietly.

“What you up to so early in the morning?” Richa asked Softly.

Tara didn’t realize someone was watching her and was startled by Richa’s sudden arrival.

“Oops! I am sorry if I disturbed you. I could not sleep and thought its better to get some work completed”

Tara’s eyes wandered and came to rest just behind Richa. Richa followed her gaze and found Sushil standing behind her.

“I can smell coffee! Can I get some too?” he asked groggily.

“yeh sure,” said Tara.

“What kept you away from sleep?”

“I got an opportunity to present my designs at Lakme Fashion House!” she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“whoa! And how is that going to happen?” asked Sushil

“Lakme Fashion House is a reality show to be broadcast on star one. I have been invited to present my designs in the on-ground auditions” Said Tara.

“Aha! And you think your designs will be selected?” asked Sushil his voice full of mockery.

“Of course!” and this time the voice was Richa’s.

Sushil didn’t reply to the snap. Instead he looked intently at Tara for a brief second, got up and left the room.

Oh Richa! Don’t do this

The competition was a month away. There was very less time, 30 days! The thought kept her awake working most of the hours. She was put up in Richa’s guest room upstairs which she soon turned into a mini Fashion House with Mannequins draped in vibrant violets, deep sea blues, coral greens, strawberry pinks and vampire reds. The room had a slanting glass roof touching the floor making it look like a small triangle had been chipped of from a rectangle’s edge. Facing the nature outside under this roof was Tara’s workstation. She was working feverishly designing and draping the mannequins when sushil passed by her room. The door was ajar and he could see her back as she went along with her work without the slightest hint that she was being watched. Sushil rested his eyes on her and explored her back, her tall frame, slender neck, dark hair now in tangles. She was in her denim shorts and a white shirt which was now almost wet with sweat but she worked oblivious to all these and that only added to her charm. A smile crossed his lips & he dropped the book in his hand. Tara was startled by the sound and turned around just in time to catch a glimpse of the enemy. Their eyes met for a brief second and then abruptly Sushil left the hallway and descended the stairs leaving Tara stuck in a whirlpool of questions.

What did he want? Why did he not call me the moment he came? How long was he standing there? What did that look mean? Oh Richa!

Tara was in one of her swingy moods… She called Richa and Sushil in their office and asked them to be home by 8. She went to the market, shopped all day long, came back home and started working for the beautiful evening she wanted to present Richa with. She decorated the house with satin and orchids, arranged a warm bath for Richa and Sushil in the double bath she designed for the Master Bedroom. The bath glowed with Candles and the scent of musk was rich in the room by the time Richa and Sushil came in. She then arranged for a lovely dinner of Chicken Salad in Tomato Petals, Shorshe Ilish, Alu Poshto and Rice to go with it. She finished the Feast with a bowl of fresh Rosogolla and a bottle of French Wine.

Tara was in a flowing sleeveless bottle Green chiffon frock, left her hair loose, and had a thin silver bracelet in her right hand with a sea green stone. As Richa and Sushil entered the Kitchen, they were already in a high. Richa was as excited as a kid and kissed Tara on her cheek the moment she saw her.

“Gosh! You look ravishing” exclaimed Richa.

A smile crossed Tara’s lips. It pleased Tara that Richa was enjoying her evening, the evening presented to her by Tara.

“Isn’t it just lovely sweetheart?” screamed Richa at Sushil.

Tara glanced at Sushil and found his eyes fixed on her. It didn’t occur to Tara before that she was looking at a very handsome Young man. Sushil was in a peach colored sleeveless cotton shirt and White trousers. He had his hair chopped short and neat. He smelled of Gillette. Tara loved Gillette. With another scream of Richa, Tara realized that she had been staring at Sushil and as she lowered her eyes, she saw a brief smile passing Sushil’s lips.

What is wrong with me?

As Richa served the dinner, Tara sat back, relaxed and admired her friend. A bubbly, cute girl with bobbing burgundy hair cut in style just reaching her neck. She was in a white satin dress just reaching her knees. Richa was of medium height and had a slender built. Tara’s oldest friend and the closest anyone could get to her. Richa & Sushil’s marriage was arranged by their parents. She still remembered Richa’s resentment at her marriage being arranged but the moment she saw the snap of the groom she was head over heels in love with Sushil. She smiled and joined in all the excitement rising around her as Richa screamed “Shorshe ilish …. Mmmm I love it! Oh Tara Thank you so much!”

After the dinner, the Trio sat in the living room and relaxed with wine and chatter.

As the evening neared the end Richa groaned, “All this heavy food and wine has gone to my head! I am going to bed. Sush, you wanna join?”

Sush!!! That’s what she calls him…

“Nope Sweets! You go ahead”

“I will have some more wine, May I?” this he addressed to Tara.

Tara smiled and refilled his glass. All the rich food and wine were playing with her senses now. She saw Sushil walking towards her; she felt her heart thudding against her chest so loudly that she felt it will land in her hands soon; she saw him come close to her so much so that she could feel his face brush her hair; her excitement surprised her. She looked up and found Sushil’s gaze fixed on her;

“May I dance with you?” asked Sushil

Tara realized there was music on and now the hall decorated in satin and orchids acted as a perfect backdrop. Sushil was a good dancer; he had a way with his feet and so was Tara. They both danced in perfect harmony; the wine clouded their senses; Tara was in Sushil’s arms, feeling his cool skin against her, his hands on her waist, the fragrance of Gillette sharp, Gillette!!!

Startled she stepped back from his hold. She found Sushil looking at her intently,

“What are you looking at?” Tara asked annoyed

“You!” said Sushil

Tara did not respond, instead she looked up and saw straight in his eyes and this time kept them there.

Let him be the one to turn his gaze this time!

“Why don’t you show me your designs?” asked Sushil breaking the silence

“huh? I thought you weren’t interested!” said Tara a little flushed.

“Why not? Not that I don’t like your work. You’ve designed this house and I should agree it was done in good taste. I would be privileged to see your work before Lakme does,” said Sushil with a wicked smile.

Tara turned around and started to walk up the stairs to her room; Sushil followed.

Though Sushil had seen her in that room before, her presence now in the midst of her creations enthralled Sushil. At that moment as Tara spread out her designs in front of Sushil, she seemed to him like an excited child showing off her toys. This change in her demeanor appalled him. One moment she seems to be the ice cold princess of his dreams; the sexiest woman he laid his eyes upon and the other he finds her a jubilant, excited child. Sushil looked at her work and was suddenly caught off guard. Whatever he might have thought of her, it wasn’t this. What he saw displayed in front of him was not an amateur’s work but the handiwork of a designer with extra ordinary creativity.

He saw the mannequins draped in her creations and fell in love with them instantly. Her designs had a strange theme, “CREATION.” The coral greens draped on a mannequin in a sensuous way high lighted the wildness of deep waters; the strawberry pinks wrapped around the waists emphasized the rawness of love; the reds and blues crystallized the vast skies on these lifeless figures. The presence of all the elements was evident, the raging fire, the soothing earth, the thunderous waters, the cool air and the dark skies. Sushil was amazed beyond words.

“You are amazing! This is superb work Tara,” shrieked Sushil.

Tara’s face brightened at his remark. She softly asked, “You really think so? Do you think I’ll make it?”

“Make it? Don’t be so damn modest! Why don’t you just give me your autograph? We may not get hold of you again after this contest!” said Sushil.

Tara laughed and dismissed the statement with a wave of her hand, “Don’t flatter Sushil”

“I am not Tara. You are good.” The seriousness in Sushil’s tone dragged her attention to him. Her eyes glistened with tears. She regarded this as her first ever success.

Sushil gave her a warm hug, stepped back and looked into her eyes for a brief second, turned back and went out of the room.

Long after Sushil left sleep evaded Tara. She looked out of the glass roof, again at the night skies, admiring the millions of stars brightening the earth below, wondering again,

Why Tara?

Down in his room Sushil tossed on his side; He thought about Tara draped in all her creations; why didn’t you meet me before Tara

At that precise moment a smile played on Richa’s lips.

The next few days was a feverish frenzy of preparations. Sushil and Richa both chipped in to help Tara in building her presentation. There was always an electrified atmosphere in Richa’s house, the source being Tara. Her adrenaline levels soared high; She spent her time buried in sketches, draping and undraping, drawing and erasing, finding faults, criticizing her own work. While Tara displayed all the qualities of a high tension wire, Sushil and Richa laidback and relaxed as if they already knew the outcome of the contest.

Every night Sushil gathered Tara asleep on the floor in midst of her drawings and laid her on her bed, covered her, kissed her on her forehead which lingered a little bit longer than it should have, gave her a longing look and then slowly left the room closing the door behind him. Tara lay awake through all this but kept silent. She had trouble understanding herself. On one hand she regarded Sushil as Richa’s husband and on the other she would wait all day for that lingering kiss each night. She contradicted her own thoughts each passing day. Richa!!!

The day before the contest Sushil asked Richa and Tara to be free for a dinner out. Richa spent the whole day in the parlor getting ready for the evening out. She took Tara out shopping and was behind her neck till she purchased a peach colored silk outfit. Richa bought coral green chiffon for herself. Richa and Tara relaxed for a while in Barista over a hot cup of coffee. Richa looked at Tara and found her extra ordinarily silent. She bent forward, took her hands in hers, patted them and said softly,

“Tara, do you know that you are the most sensuous woman I’ve ever seen? Men can’t take their eyes off you and women jealous of you. But to me you are my best friend.”

Tara looked at her friend in surprise. Why is she saying all these? Does she know?

Tara’s eyes were moist as she looked at Richa.

Richa said, “I trust you Tara, more than anyone else. You will never harm me. Tomorrow is the day you’ve been waiting for all these years. Give it your best!”

Tara’s hands trembled and she heard herself say, “You knew?”

The evening went of somberly. Richa and Tara had a nice time dancing and toasting to their friendship; a friendship that passed the hardest test of all, a test of Jealousy, Love and Lust.

The Contest:

The venue of the on ground auditions was packed to the brim. People from all over the city were present there to display their talent. Tara marched in with her designs an air of confidence around her. She was in a white cotton Capri and a pastel pink tunic; she had a white hat and shoes on to protect her from the scorching heat of the sun. Her designs tucked under her arms, Tara went ahead with the proceedings. A jury comprising of Abu Jani & Sandeep Khosla presided over the presentations. Tara was a nervous wreck all the while waiting for her turn. The presentations were good and it only added to Tara’s discomfort.

“Ms. Tara Dasgupta, her theme ‘CREATION’”

As she heard her name being announced on the over head speaker, Tara became alert. The only thing she thought about now was the heights; the power that intoxicated her that night. She wanted to go there where she belonged and for that to happen this was her opportunity. Tara shook off all her apprehensions, took a deep breath and moved ahead.

The moment Tara came in front of the jury, she knew they will watch her. She proceeded with her presentation. If the judges were impressed, they didn’t show it and if they weren’t they didn’t show that either.

When the time for the results came closer, Tara was breathing hard. Twenty contestants would be selected for an overnight contest, out of which four contestants would be selected for the grand finale from each zone. Tara wanted to be in the final four from the West Zone. Tara took out the coin given to her by Richa for safe keeping. She was not much of a believer but Richa’s faith gave her strength. She held the coin in her hand.

Please!

The names of the twenty contestants were being announced. The names announced were in alphabetical order. Tara’s tunic was now drenched in sweat. The last two names were left to be announced and then came

‘Ms. Tara Dasgupta’

As she marched to the Podium there was a silence. The announcement of names abruptly stopped. There was silence all around. Tara looked up to the Jury; the duo stood up and gave Tara a standing ovation.

“Wonderful Tara!” they said together.

Tara was speechless. She always knew that her designs were good but this was out of her dreams.

Abu and Sandeep went up to the podium congratulated Tara; Abu gave her a warm hug and whispered in her ears, “Meet you up there soon Tara, keep working”

Richa shrieked in the phone when she heard the news. Sushil was standing next to her eager to talk to Tara, to be a part of the celebration. Then Richa suddenly went tense. Her silence disturbed Sushil. He asked Richa, “What happened? Why are you silent?”

Richa did not answer. She replaced the phone back in its cradle and sank into the sofa. Sushil kneeled on the ground infront of her and asked again, “Richa. What happened?”

“She won the contest. She is among the final four from the West zone. She will move ahead with the rest of the team from here on.” said Richa.

“When is she coming here?” asked Sushil.

“She is not Sushil. She said she is moving on with the team from this moment.”

“What? How can she be so selfish? Doesn’t she feel, she should at least meet us once before she leaves? Why is she doing this?” shouted Sushil

“You know better!” said Richa calmly and left her husband to walk up the stairs to her best friend’s room. Sushil kept looking at her long after she left.

She knew all along.

Richa closed the door behind her and wept softly.

I always trusted you Tara. You needn’t have done this.

Far away somewhere, walking by the beach Tara thought to herself

I don’t trust myself as much as you do Richa. I will miss you!

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Tujhse hi…

Tujhse hain shabnami raat, zindagi hain tujhse meri

Tujhi se suhaani yeh sham, Tumhi ho bandagi meri

Har lamha jiska intezaar tha, zehen mein jiski justujoo,

Tujhme hi paaya hain humne, har dua mein thi jiski aarzoo

Jhuki palkon se tujhe dekha tha, nigaahon mein basgaye the tum..

Palkon se chupke, dheeme dheeme, dil mein utargaye ho tum..

Tujhse nigaahein milti hain, ek aah si dil mein uth ti hain..

Teri nazron ke berukhi se phir, dil mein dard sa hota hain…

Tujhe haste hasaate dekh, hum bhi muskuraalete hain…

Kisi gair par tere nazre dekh, phir dil mein jalan si hoti hain..

Tujhse koi shiqwa nahi, naa hi koi shiqaayat hain

Tujhe toh shaayad khabar hi nahi, Kis had tak tujhe hum chaahte hain…

Deb