Celine-Jesse

Somedays you get the brazen confidence to not only try out something new, but the surety of the hitting out a home run on your maiden game. Yes, that one. That day is today. A new recipe, untried before and maybe not even sampled by the taste buds..well, maybe. Or maybe, how about directly blogging out, strutting out in the blazing sun, no glares or sunscreen and tilting your head to gaze out directly at the sun..matching its ferocity. And maybe, making it wilt a little too. Ignoring the red marks all over your word document by the auto correct software and continuing to key on, setting the document ablaze with even more fiery reds. Opening the windows of the room, of your life to the storm outside and inviting in the chaos. Lets see what and how much can you stir up, after all? How much more chaotic can life be after you have visited us, you rhetorically ask. The winds and water gushing in and soaking it all. Leaving behind a heaviness of wet and livened up emotions, the storm doesn’t seem like a threatening stranger holding secrets but a well wisher showing us the mirror, by pulling out the blackened skies from within, and clearing the air, making way for sunshine. The sunshine before the sun sets again, darkening it all.

So what will Jesse, little Jesse do now? Will he miss his flight, alter travel and life plans or..stay on course, towards self destruction. Or maybe, the renewed energies gained, will help him navigate pre-set courses, no matter how damning, with more heart. Or maybe, nothing will change. In real terms. Only the celine-jesse in his mind would have aged and more data and love points would have accumulated themselves in his mirror world. It will be his mirror world that will feel the ripples, these ripples dying out before they make it to the real sands of time, leaving behind no imprints of their existence. And then, maybe, some will believe (the cynics and the non-believers), that celine and the sunset were a mirage, another page from another book or some other fictional reality. What do you think? And what do you want it to be?

Days spent with books

The day today, filled to the brim and spilling. Do I like them this way or empty? Somedays this and the most days that.

Guitar strings sounding taut and crisp enough to bruise the ears and shed blood. From the eyes.

I inhabit Nazi Germany most afternoons. Or maybe, it inhabits me. I can taste it in my throat. It holds my hand and I can feel its pulse, or the lack of it, in my palm. Admist all the fear, death, cold bonfires, out of tune accordions, hunger, sleepless nights, workless days and all other frosted feelings, I can sniff out childhood, hope and innocence…and my eyes burn with the smell of them. Hope in the middle of dead feeling marshes can sound, smell and look like a crude, ugly indulgence. Not just out of place but completely unwarranted. And it is from this aberration, this dash of colour in an otherwise gloomy landscape…that the colours begin to dilute, mix and spread themselves across the canvas and a story blooms born from within overgrown shrubbery of despair and sadness.

And then, the kids wake up to the drizzle of rain in the mountain ranges of the cold, picturesque foothill town in the Himalayas..and to a dancing, bubbling blue umbrella.

Summation

Tiny, puny, adult-like creatures, walking around on their own two feet, eating with their mouthful and laughing at the same time. I find these beings miraculous, to say the very least. Nature’s purest joy embodied in them, they dance, swerve, fall and rise again. And to top it all, they are for real. A magic that is for real. Go ahead, top that!

They., moving around, look like a summation of loves, yours, mine and then some more. They look like valleys of pooled in patience(s), yours, mine and then some more. They breathe in and breathe out thoughts, views, emotions that are our palettes merged together. They are the beacons funneling in energies, positivity, yours, mine and then some more. They stand for all things good with the world around us. We nurture them, like life nurtures us.

They are us, Tarun, much more than us. Walking, singing, dancing, breathing, beings – us, together…you, me and then some more.

Happy (?) Holi

Organic, bland..the ones that wash away with the tears. And then, a day later, you find them tucked away in dark nooks and cavities. Peeping out, almost sheepishly. And the memory of all that was…and all that could have been, come rushing to you. Stumbling over each other, panting, gasping…and running towards you..knocking you overboard once they reach you. You fall, steady and in slow mo, towards the freezing, unending expanse of the water below. mid-air, at most times, is the best state to be in. The state of being where your co-ordinates are unavailable, even to yourself. Yes, cause sometimes, the last person you want to meet is yourself. That’s the one person, you are running the most from. But where do you go, where your own dark self doesn’t sneak up on you, full bodied, attached to you by one dimension. In the darkness, where no one can see you, this other you, looms large, becomes all encompassing and gobbles you up. Hidden alleys, the secret stash away corners of your childhood, the go-to jaunts of your imbecile adolescence, the red tainted shades of loves that used to be, the code languages you authored and never shared with any outsider….all of these weapons of islolation just do not seem to work.

Well, the only other way, yup the only way, is to erase it all…your connections with oneself…go back to the very beginning…assume your foetal position in the womb…and come into the light…once again, but as if for the first time. Cry your lungs out. Let the fresh air in and wail out all that you have compressed inside. Be re-born. Happy Holi.

Coming back to you

It has been a long winding road, and I never knew that it would lead back to you. I traversed it with a fleeing disposition. Running away from you…running away from the me that I am when I am with you. Panting, stumbling as I looked up to see the shadows of you lurking, waiting at the end, I stopped in my tracks…frozen with just my heart pounding at hyperbole-ic at speeds and decibel levels. All else stood still. Time. Life. I could hear my heartbeats in my ears…and I am sure, so could you. Even with the distance that was between us. I was supposed to have been crestfallen at the futility of my venture, scared of what was to be and also, angry at the ironic twist of fate. And yet, here I was, standing with your shape looming large in front of me. With my inners, threatening to come exploding out, to leap at you. I want to touch you with my soul. To feel you with my breath. To stroke you with my memories. To love you with all my being. To see you with my ever – searching eyes. Come closer. Come into the light.

And now I know…that which I would have never known if you hadn’t come back to me. You never left me. And all I was doing, all this while, was running towards you.

Snatched moments from time

Time is slipping away, from me, away towards infinity. Back to where it all begun. I stand and watch it float. My legs digging deeper and deeper into the wet sands, as if the burden of my being is increasing by the moment, making me unable to move in any direction. I stand still. Frozen. Emotionless. The dead weight inside of me holds me back from taking flight. I want to bubble away, be vulnerable, burst open, die…and then live. But instead, I have find myself in a deep freeze state, perfectly slicing & fitting my life in the ice cube box. A lot of work goes into the preparations for it. I am always ready. To be melted into nothingness. I ready myself to lose my shape and state on a daily basis. I want to stay on, linger, float, fly…shapeless, yet leave back a footprint, on the soul.