The Broken Window : And she stood there…

(Read the First part of The Broken Window here)

The bell rang. But opening the door, made things even worse.

She was standing right there!!! And it all came knocking down, like a flashback.

We never realize the potential of flashbacks, the age old drama technique used on celluloid, but when it strikes for real, its hell.

The moment froze. She stood there, and I did the same. It was as if I choked internally, only I didn’t. Thankfully, she extended a big “Hiii” to make me skip the continuous live stream of flashback in front of my eyes. Stretching my facial tissues only to form a picturesque smile and to move my jaws in typical fasion, I welcomed her inside.

For her, it was as if nothing had happened. And frankly, Nothing had happened.

Everytime, I saw her. Or even her regularly changing DPs in any of the social networks, it only took me back to her thoughts, which was part of the elaborate stalking exercise.

This one time, she was going on about something, and as always I was only trying hard to concentrate on listening on what her little mouth was blabbering. Nodding my head in between, and mixing it up with the “oooh’s and achaa”.

My eyes would wander around her face, making its way from her wobbling eyes to the straight path down her nose only to land on her moving lips. Then struggling to solve the dilemma of choosing one side to wriggle out of her dimples to rest on those flawless cheeks. Completing a full circle, I’ll wander back to her eyes, which would have grown twice the size from when I started the little trip around her face.

Sun bhi rahe ho ya nahi ?”

And a standard “Haan be” would follow the question, with a little guilt of lying and resolve to listen. Meanwhile, controlling my urge of going on another trip.

Her, bleak little voice called me up. Oye, Sun!!, while I stood there beside the door lost in thoughts.

She looked tensed, but I won’t say that this was the first time; I’ll have to become her sobbing pillow. I had tried my best to stay away from her, from her life and problems. But somehow it would happen that we’ll end up in the very same situation. Call it routine, or destiny, I’ll call it the story of my life.

Anyways, it was something related to the guy which she went on and on about, I tried my best to reason, console and whatever I could holding myself on rational grounds. I wouldn’t say it’s tough to do it, but definitely irritating to the core. Khair, once it was all done and maybe after a few days things were back to being normal for her, life was back to being the same. How would I know of that? Well, No news from her side, meant things were fine.

And the usual would follow. Devoting my time to either penning something down on the laptop or being lost in reveries through the broken window, peeping across the street. Reveries were my true companion. They gave me company, and not limiting myself to times when I’m alone but even when I’m in the midst of a crowd. It’s now part of my identity, finding its way out through my thoughts. My broken thoughts, through windows like these. The broken window.

The Broken Window

 

The window through which children across the streets played football with polythene wrapped like one, the window through which you see countless birds sitting on those tree branches, flying across and the window through which I could see a very different world and Oh, the window through which the flower-woman struggled to sell flowers every day.

Although, there was bheed in front of the flower-woman today. But from what I could notice, it was not to buy flowers from her. I had my doubts on what it was.

My phone rang in the same time. A minutes’ gap to answer the call and when I came back, the woman was not there.

 

Strange!!! Where did they took her ?

 

Read what happens next in The Broken Window in the next post. 

 

Part 1 of The Broken Window Series

The Broken Window

Gulping the cup of coffee, and staring through the broken window towards the street across, I just stood there, numb. In that very moment, it was all blank. I wasn’t thinking, just stood up.

The Broken Window

A car was honking its way out into the narrow street continuously, until the street kids made their way for it. Some even ran after the car to catch some amusement of their own. Bare-footed, torn clothes adorning their malnourished torsos, but a smile flashing across their faces, they ran.  A woman sat along the pavement with jasmine flowers, hardly anyone stopping by. She was young, probably around 22, married. She had a sindoor probably.

Usually at this time, this was how my evening would pass by. A cup of sugarless coffee to give me company, peeping through the window as if I’m scanning the street, as if I was the watchman. Life, even with the monotonous setting, had its charm. The quiet time, spoke with me like it never did before.

A man stopped by to buy the flowers from the woman, probably a garland for the lady sitting in the car parked nearby. He gave her a big note I suppose, she didn’t had chilaer to return perhaps. Neither did she had candies like the shopkeepers now give you in return, and in the process making éclairs as a default currency for chiller in India. She searched under the basket, took out her secret pouch from under her pallu but was probably able to find only some extra cash to return.

The man left without the extra money towards his car and probably the lady who was waiting there.

Meanwhile, my coffee was finished and I got back to my place on the couch. I sat there for a couple of minutes but I was tempted not to. I got the feeling of doing something, something productive, something fun, and something that I always do. Rather used to do. The restlessness grew with every moment and when I couldn’t think of anything else, I just stopped thinking.

It was a lot easier not to think now. Thinking only brought back memories which I just wanted never to resurface again.

And just when I was trying to soothe my nerves, the bell rang. But opening the door, made it even worse.

She was standing there!!! And it all came knocking down, like a flashback.

 

 

…. Find out what happens next in my next post of “The Broken Window: and she stood there

 

Part 2 of the Story The Broken Window: and she stood there…

 

 

 

..it was clear as crystal…

I switched the projector on the phone, pointed towards the wall in front of me, and touched Play. It was dark everywhere, but the picture was clear. I could see the snow falling down. I wanted to touch it, feel it. the picture was so crystal clear.

This new phone which I had been gifted by my dad, was something different and weird. Weird because he had to send it all the way to Bangalore from Jamshedpur. He hadn’t even received my call after I surprisingly called him up in excitement.

Asus incredible phone contest fiction

I went ahead. Even though I felt it to be childish to just go and do this filmsy thing. What was I expecting? That the snow would be real? Huh!! In my dreams… and I just felt it.

OMG!! I just felt it.

I just couldn’t believe my eyes. A video being streamed through my phone on its projector turns it real ? or someone is snowing from above, perhaps a prank. I searched through the room from the other side. It looked dark, like it was before. While it was snowing here, It was still dark there . It was all such a contrast. I was still getting a hang of it all.

Just when the phone in the other side of the room, buzzed.

I just went over to the other side, and the video had to be stopped. And it was all gone. I didn’t realized in rush of the moment that it would go as soon as I went out of the snowy picture.

Anyways, I attended the call, and had to leave the place to visit a friend.

It was all a very peculiar incident and I kept on thinking about revisiting the scenario. Or maybe try out another video? Thoughts kept running through my mind, even when I was outside hanging out with my friends.

Time went on, and I became restless. I went to the washroom, people were there. I kept myself busy by doing what they “do” there. Once everyone was gone, I switched on  the same video and it sprang right in front of me. The snow, falling all over the other side, while I peeked like an ardent spectator from this side. I again tried to touch it. I did, I felt it. The same rush, of finding something new and incredible. Add the excitement of doing it all alone, without having to share it with anyone else. I was finally reaffirmed that it was not my one-time hallucination or sleeplessness that resulted into the scene in the room.

But then..

The door banged open all of a sudden and a man entered. Maybe he saw, what I was doing, what I was witnessing. I quickly stopped the video and stared at him with a completely innocent look. Strange as it might sound, he did the same.

I opened my eyes, to find my friends staring at me. Not with any innocent look, but with worry and fear all over their faces. Before they could say anything, I asked what had happened? And why on earth I am resting on the lap of my friend? It looked all too filmsy to me.

They instead asked me, what happened in the washroom that I took so long and how I became unconscious.

And then it struck me!!!

I was trying to come out after facing that awkward moment with that strange man, and something ht me on my head. I quickly looked for my phone around, not finding the same. I was assured, it was gone.

I never told anyone about the incident, but the thought of that incredible phone, which could make me feel things and totally take me with them, is simply hard to forget.

Later that day, as I called my dad to tell him the bad news about the phone, I was stunned!! He had no knowledge about sending me any phone. Talk about mystery!!!

It’s not that I stopped searching for the phone. Maybe if I could catch hold of that strange man, I could still have it. Maybe, that clarity could come in a phone someday later. The optimistic in me, never stops wishing for the same.

This post was written for Asus #IncredibleZen In search of incredible contest  for Zenfone in association with Indiblogger.

Hypocrisy of the Indian Political Times!!

Hypocrisy in our political times

2014 has been an eventful year in terms of politics. The last 2-3 years, especially, have been all over the news, social media and on every Indians’ mouth(that includes a chaiwala to a BMW driving executive).

Battle lines which were blurred from ages got clear. Camps began showcasing their arsenals and firing on all cylinders. Politics was the buzzword and rightly so, India seemed finally awake to issues like corruption, rape, inability of ministers to deliver. All the moves by the politicians were under the radar.

Rise of Democracy

This was the part, of which every Indian should be really proud about. Indian youth finally had a vision of development and was willing to fight for his right. After all he is a citizen of the World’s largest democracy.

But here’s the catch. (There’s always a catch when it comes to politics).

The battle lines, the camps and ideological battles got more and more specific, targeted and got spread from being just display of point of views to becoming hardcore “fan boys” (even more than what Rajni fans claim to be) and believe me it wasn’t limited to just one side.

The idea of democracy keeps getting challenged every now and then, but the campaigning around this time actually redefined a lot of these parameters.

The government ruling the country was challenged, shouted and even abused for each of their wrong-doings, which are far too many to be listed. Every move was put under scanner, skeletons were dug up and a lot of political gimmick took centre stage.  All of this was done by each of the opposing forces and highlighted by the media. Some even pointed out biases by each of the media houses as well to describe their innocence and adding another excuse to the ill treatment meted out by the media to them.

Time went on, elections became more of a marketing promotion scheme, where one brand scored over the other by winning more number of votes. And a new government was formed.

So, if you wonder what has changed ? Except new faces and names of politicians, nothing has changed.

The same opposition party (which is now in the government) now continues to toe the same lines when it comes to price rise. Ironically, the highlight of their campaign was the same price rise issue against the ruling party.

Nothing changed. Even the sight of a suffering  common man.

Sadly, this remains out of bounds for the fan boys, who continue to dream of a changing India and are now busy propagating the line that “country needs development and for that price rise is essential”. Wow!! So much understanding??!!

Where was this when the previous government was making similar decisions?

Anyways, if this understanding does not highlight the kind of hypocrisy that these followers (aka fanboys) have, then nothing else will.

Everyone was right to blame the previous government for price-rise, but this government which “promised” to change it all, now has the right to do it all?

I haven’t used names anywhere in the article. Of course, it is no-brainer to whom I’m referring to. The main reason is, now even my thought process or criticism would be questioned. The same set of people who would abuse other politicians, are now ridiculing any criticisms regarding the “government”.

Hypocrisy could not have had a better example.

 

 

Just another Blog post…

00:00 hrs, 15th June, 2014

Drawing some correlation from my last posts’ title, whenever I opened up my blog page, I could only wonder when the next post on it will come.

For those who, don’t quite get the above statement, my previous post was dated more than a month back and was my “Last post” from my college life on my convocation.

(Ping)

When I sat down to pen down my thoughts, all I could think of reasons which held me back from writing. I kept on thinking, and then I actually forgot what I sat down to write.

(Beep) (Ping)

The new life, the post-being-student phase, when I’ve got to work is different. Not that I didn’t knew. If one asks me, whether I’m happy? Alhamdulilah, I am!! I really am. Things could have been completely different of course, but this is good.  There is a little part in me which screams that it is content.

Content on having the support of Family and Friends, always!! Content on finding a job that fits what I actually wanted. Content, on trying my best to find peace within and around myself, and not by running after certain things/people.

(Ping) (Ping)

I can bore you with 100 other details, but I won’t. This is not even a full-fledged post to actually make any point. It is just an exercise to keep my blog active, and try and jump back onto the Blogosphere.

 

P.S if you are wondering what are the “pings, “beeps” are for, well those are some of the reasons, for this simple post to take more than 1 hour of my time. :-P

And in case you’re wondering about the date, well my “busy” schedule and the great wifi didn’t allowed me to post this. 

…for one last time.. blogging from XIME..

For one last time, from the confines of the XIME hostel, I bring to you another blog. Yea, a little dramatic to start I guess, but what the hell, life here has been no less than a roller coaster drama for me.

Drama, you ask??

Well. The night is getting dark. It is already 1.30 AM and like the punctual XIME tradition goes, we’ll have to be up our asses by 9:00 AM for the rehearsal of convocation. Ohh yeah!! CONVOCATION, the reason we all are here.  And I cannot put in words how excited I am. Not only because it will be my first Convocation per se, but also coz this was the first time I have put in actual hard work to get my degree. (Yes, I was a super lazy ass, who took it very easy at first).

But, anyways depriving you of the little joys and loads of troubles won’t give me any good. So, I should share some of them with you. Shouldn’t I?

Audi-week. Roomies. Friends. Mess food. Coffee. DogB. Volga. Bismillah. Jumma Rush. Roll no. Blogger. Controversy. Passport. International tour. MST. Internship. Salesman. Report. Viva. CGPA. Dexter. Suits. Movies. Reviews. Meeting Farhan. Exams. VOS. Library. Results.

I can go on and on about stuff that can define my 2 years at Xime. They aren’t just words arranged in any sequence, but the story of my Xime life.  Something, which will swell up my eyes, the next time when I remember them again or maybe just read them. I won’t miss xime, I will miss people, will miss the bonding.

I’ll miss my roomies, I’ll miss my gang. Teasing and getting teased like anything and for everything. being called the “blogger” or maybe even the “reviewer”, will miss late night balcony talks, coffee walks, fights with friends over issues and non-issues, being awake all night, listening on to Drunk tales of friends, will miss HER, will miss taking awkward moment pics of people and posting them on fb, will miss being involved in a Modi discussion or even being called MODI, will miss exchanging chit-chats during classes, will miss getting worked up for not doing an assignment on time, will miss dragging people to give treat for random excuses., might even miss studying in the library. And, I’ll miss writing blogs sitting in these rooms of this hostel…

XIME, you’ll be missed like anything…

Signing off, from XIME hostel, one last time….

… and I move along

Running away from the shadows of the past..
driving down the hill onto uncertainty, I move along..

Building castles on the hazy air around..
Crafting the new life from the fossils left behind, I move along..

Cutting out the broken parts…
Shedding down the dead leaves, I move along..

As the reality dawns with the growing dark night..
and the picture becomes clear, I move along…