Close to hell, nearer to heaven...

Here i am, standing at the edge of the cliff, looking down into the abyss below, morbid thoughts running through my head. It's quite a long way down, i think. The deeper the better. Atleast it won't be painful. Just a momentary gush of wind through your hair and quick death will welcome you into its frightening silence. I look across the deep ravine below below me. Funny, seems exactly where my heart is hiding. In that dark cavern of lies, regret and failure where the bats of guilt reside. All they need is flash of light to unfurl their wings and break through the cave of restraint.

And that final roll of dice has been cast.

I'm here to end it all. The betrayal, the regret, the failure that has perennially plagued my life. The disappointment, the humiliation and the suffering that everyone dear to me had to endure. The man i am and the man i never could be.

Remember the time in your life when nothing seems to be going right. When everything you do leads to nothing at all. When you have no clue where your life is heading towards but you know that it's the wrong destination. When you can no longer recognize yourself in the mirror. When your voice escapes from your lips and not from your heart. When your thoughts are your worst nightmares. When your own soul begs for freedom. I've gone through that feeling all my life. Believe me, i'm no coward.

I think about all the times in my life when i had laughed heartily and the innumerable times when i'd shed and swallowed my own bitter tears. Times when my own heart wouldn't accept them. All i could think of was those terrible thoughts, those hideously morose thoughts that grip you and never let you go. I couldn't take it anymore. My soul was trapped in my own body, screaming to end the tormenting assault of endless desolation wreaked upon my fragile mind.

I take one last look across the dark chasm that lay in front of me. I'm already dreaming about the last rush of life i'd be feeling as i would descend into the black valley of death. The last thoughts i'd have to endure. The last emotion that would run through my mind as i would enter earth's loving embrace.

Looking down in the dark hell below, i begin to take little steps towards the edge. I close my eyes and am about to take the last few steps when i hear a voice behind me. I turn around to find an old man, his eyes brimming with hope and expectation, hobbling towards me. He walks towards me, a smile as bright and mellow as the morning sun on his lips. He staggers near me, eying the view behind me and asks,

"Sir, would you like to buy a couple of wings ?"

Not all those who wander are lost.

- J.R.R Tolkien
The Lord Of The Rings

Serenity

I'm sitting here in the comfort of my favourite corner, blowing little bubbles into the air.
I watch them float up towards the ceiling , then try to touch them teasingly with my fingers and let them softly fall on my open palm where they hover for a moment before they disappear forming little puddles of water on my skin, like puppies licking my palm. While i sit there, i watch them being born as tiny drops of joy, rising with the eagerness of new birth, floating into space to reach for the stars but then slowly lowering themselves onto the ground with the kind of sadness you see in a defeated child's eyes. Then they gently kiss the earth, hoping that that little act of affection will grant them a few more moments of existence.

As i watch their wonderful dance of life, i wonder: isn't falling in love a lot like the life of bubbles??

We all fall deeply in love, hiding it in little gardens of our heart, hoping for it to bloom.
And then, finally, it does.
Blooms into a rush of ecstasy. Blooms like a flower that freshens with every passing moment. You fall headfirst into that abyss of romance, searching for your little halos. Then, ironically but pleasantly, your heart flies, reaching for the stars that glitter like your loved one's eyes. But gradually, that tender craziness that used to light up your day, turns to obsession, differences and eventually neglect. Then it all softly fades away just like a withered leaf off a dead tree.
Yet, we hold on, refusing to let go. Just like those bubbles, we cling on to memories, that smile, those eyes; grasping onto anything that might offer us a glimmer of happiness, anything that could resurrect our fallen soul. I guess every relationship leaves behind a candle that has been put off just to help us appreciate the darkness we'd been unaware of.

And I guess we all fall in love for the same reason as we blow those lovely bubbles.

'Cause it just make our lives a little more beautiful.

Tears??

The body shivers...there's something in the wind...
There's a whiff of freshness in the air...Your hands slip into your pockets....
Your eyes move towards heaven...Maybe it's the sea...

You breathe in...smells like satin drenched in a nature's sweetest fragrance....
the city draws itself into the dark clouds' tender caress...
looks like momentary darkness has embraced the garden of joy....

You feel it...feel the breeze drift through your fingers...like the loving grasp of a mother's supple love....the kind of happiness that soothes a bleeding heart....Your soul smiles...it's here....

Hope descends over your glittering eyes...your eyelids flutter away to dusk...
and then....






heaven kisses you....

Necropolis?

Isn't it strange that in this world of the living dead,



love blooms only on a grave.........

Coming undone...

Whispering along the corridors of solitude
I treasure every beat of my heart.......

Silence alone can rival death
And brightness too can blind you........

A lonely cloud can hide the sun
A single star can bejewel the sky.......

But here I am, trying hard






To strike a friendship with loneliness.......

Life (As we don't know it)

Racing across the overhead bridge, I flew down the fight of stairs, bumping into some old lady who gave me a look which said...why you li'l son of a.....

Man, I hate these places.

But couldn’t help it, could I?

Okay, let’s get this straight. I don’t hate getting into the local trains…it’s just the staying in it part that gives me the ulcers.

I used to travel a lot by these ‘community living centres’ a while back but then a bus always offers you a much more comfortable (that word just took away my right of being called a Mumbaikar) ride and well, sucker that I am, I fell for it.

So began my love affair with buses but like every homely, loving, affectionate man, I do go off to regular sojourns with my mistress. Doesn’t take much does it? A show of the legs, an eyeful of cleavage and we all fall down into the abyss of temptation. Well, this short visit was more due to desire than lust. The goddamned Bus Co. went on strike just ‘coz they want their daily, weekly, monthly whatever raise and so they decide to rest “the cute li’l red boxes” back in the depots. I would have loved taking the car out but in a city where a guy’s age inside a car is twice than when he’s outside it, I’d prefer taking the public transport…..call it if you will….system.

Panting, I finally reach the platform. Squinting ahead, I try to place the digits on the info display system.

21:13
Not bad, seven minutes to go. Searching around, I find a store and get a drink to drown my parched throat. Ahhhh… feels like heaven. Just as I was about to sing a glorious ode to the exquisite Appy, I saw the crowd dissolve away from the tracks. The train must be approaching. I quickly moved into position, geared up my rucksack, crossed myself twice, said a little prayer, thought about my mom and waited with bated breath. There she blows! Finally, it sputtered to a stop. The train heaved and out came the passengers, weaving through me as I stood there thanking my lucky stars. I’d survived. Survived the onslaught of a Mumbai local.

I quickly scuttled into the compartment. Then, it struck me. No wonder. This local wasn’t gonna leave until the guards changed. It started from this station.

Dejected but somewhat relieved, I found a seat and sat down, still gulping down my Appy. But then I got up soon enough when I saw a family of four with two little kids shuffling between the passengers trying to make some room in the cramped compartment and offered my seat. Couldn’t afford to risk my Appy, could I? ;-)

As I stood near the door watching the passengers scurry into the train, I saw him. Yes, that was the moment when I saw him. Saw the smug smile on his face as he hobbled his way looking at the hungry, tired faces of the passengers. Good business, wasn’t it gonna be? Flinging his tray onto his shoulders, he stepped aboard. And then it started. His feeble and quite amusing attempts at advertising his wares. Hawking…gawking…no matter what it took, he enlisted all the details of his wares. Peanuts, along with a wide assortment of nuts and fried snacks. And like a true Indian, he spiced it up with a sprinkling of chilli powder, coriander paste and chippings of the choicest onions from the fields of Maharashtra. Soon, the customers came, thronging to have a light snack at the end of a tiring day before they could reach the comfort of their homes and settle down for some hot, home-cooked food.

Soon, he had started quite a riot.

His bonhomie and amusing ways soon had the entire compartment smiling. Singing and drawling, he soon had all those tired passengers humming. The deftness of his hands while he crafted pieces of paper into perfectly shaped cones won many admirers. The way he mixed all his ingredients and topped it with a sizzle of lemon juice had the entire coach talking about the delectability of his simple snack. Working consistently, he trumpeted about the delicious nature of what he called the perfect snack. Collecting the cash, soon after selling his ware, he stuffed all those notes into his pocket and continued to urge people to taste his appetizing snack. Soon, he started a new wave of publicity. “Don’t you dare forget having onions, sir; they help increase your blood flow. They also clear up your digestive tract”. He went on with his rant about the health benefits of eating onions with such confidence, almost as though half of the docs at Breach Candy had been hired at his suggestions. “Would you like some more onion chippings, sir?” “Don’t you worry sir, your mixed special is on it’s way. This train’s not going anywhere until I serve you”.

Looking at him go about his job with such absolute aplomb and carpe diem, I wondered what my uncle, an advertising professional, would think of him. I smiled. Somehow, I had a feeling he would have hired him right away to teach all his students a thing or two about advertising. Soon, more passengers filled in and the train was about to leave. With a thoroughly satisfied look on his face and quite a thick bump where his pocket once was, he got off the train.

As I saw him swagger to his spot on the platform, I realized one thing. That life’s a gift. A treasure meant to be honored. And the only way to redeem it is through survival. That’s what he was doing. Surviving. That’s what all those guys in the compartment were doing. That’s what we all are doing. But sometimes we forget that what more important is to be smiling through it. Maybe smile to survive. For then, you’ll survive ….to smile.

Or maybe all of this meant nothing at all.

Just another day in this miracle called Mumbai.