AN IMAGE FFROM THE BEAUTIFUL PAST...

I felt a tugging at my shirt and I looked down. A little child was trying to get my attention, looking up at me and smiling. It was a little girl, with an oddly familiar pair of large, dark, lively eyes and an even more intimate, smile. I was baffled! The resemblance was stark and striking.
They were the same black eyes. It was the same innocent smile. They were the two things I first got attracted to, so many years ago.
I was still speculating, fascinated, when I heard a voice-a voice that keeps ringing in my ears to this day, almost every morning, every night, all these years. I couldn't believe my ears! It was the same voice! It was her voice! I immediately spun around and there she was, walking quickly towards me, looking at her child, anxious! No sooner had her eyes turned towards me, than she stopped dead in her tracks and as I had expected, her eyes registered surprise and awe. Or was she shocked?
Those eyes... gazing into which, I used to see my own image, yet, completely forgot myself, utterly lost myself in their soft gaze...That was so many years back. Now I'm seeing them again, looking at me the same way they did back then. Her eyes were still the same, large, liquid, expressive. They looked just the same, except for a vague trace of the apparently newly-appearing crow's feet at their edges.
Now, as she blinked, a dark curl of her hair swept across her face, brushing her skin lightly. Unconsiously, her hand raised to her face, and she twisted the lucious ringlet, between two of her long, slim fingers and tucked it discreetly behind her ear, gracefully, just like how she used to do when she caught me staring appreciatively at the curls of her hair flying against her face. Her hair...into which, I gladly buried my face, inhaling its dainty frangrance and played with it, feeling its softness...That was so many years back. Her hair still looked the same, excpet for a few grey strands here and there.
And now, I could see her lower lip trembling slightly. She immediately caught it tight between her teeth, sending a shot of pain across my heart. I wanted to run to her and rescue her lip of the menacing hold between her teeth. Her rosy lips...which always had an innocent, never-ending smile. Her lips...which had felt so soft and passionately receptive when I kissed.
She looked the same-exactly the same. '...except that she'd gained a little weight,' the logical corner of my mind tried to intervene. But my eyes and my heart proclaimed that she still looked gorgeous. For me, undoubtedly, she is the most beautiful woman in the whole world. If anything, her womanly grace seemed more beautiful than her frilly innocence. There was this mysterious dignity about her now, which looked like a perfect blend of maturity and chastity.
I, myself, was surprised at the reaction of my own body and heart to her presence. There was no hunger, no urgency, like before. But still, just like before, my heart still beat fast and galloped, threatening to jump right out of me, at that moment. And my body, though didnt show any signs of carnal desire, still craved for her soothing, reassuring touch, telling me silently that everything is going to be alright.
Yes! I wish she were mine. I wish she were with me now. I knew it was impossible. What I didnt know was whether she felt the same about me. I wished I could read her thoughts. I wished I could ask her what was going on in her mind. I wished I could talk to her just once.
She opened her mouth as if about to say something. And as we gazed at each other, neither of us noticed her daughter running towards her. When the little girl hugged her mother, she gave a start as if she woke up from sleep. She looked at her little child and again at me. Resigningly, she picked up her daughter and tearing her eyes away from me, she turned away. I wouldn't swear on it, but I thought I had seen a tear spilling out of one of her eyes, just like it did on that fateful day, many years back, when fate tore us apart. Through misty eyes, I just looked on as she walked away from me again, after all these years.

THE FLYING TIME...

They bring a smile onto the lips
They bring tears into the eyes
The echo of sweet voices reverberating in the ears
And then, an involuntary and heavy sigh
The time could have stood still, but it just flew by...

That running in the green pastures with their little white blossoms
That ignoring the broken twigs tearing and scratching tiny bare feet
That tripping and falling, being helped up onto the feet again
That squealing joyfully, singing and racing across hand-in-hand
The time could have stood still, but it just flew by...

That pouring over the year's books just one day before the exam
That waiting tensly for the inevitable 'death sentence'
That crying over someone's shoulder dreading failure
That partying hard into the night celebrating success
The time could have stood still, but it just flew by...

That sharing a secret joke across the table strewn with unhealthy food
That burst of laughter at one of the friends, who stared humiliated
That springing of surprises, endless gossiping, dancing and howling into the sleepless night
That tearful farewell, those kisses, hugs, tears and more tears
The time could have stood still, but it just flew by...

That first crush, a boundless attraction, those knowing winks, oohs and aahs
That game of secret admiration, eying one another
That naked bathing in the moon light on an eerily dreamy night
That falling in and out of love and that heart-break
The time could have stood still, but it just flew by...

Those reminiscences...
Just one step back in the past
There are so many of them, to last a life time
Those memories...
Just one look back at the life lived
There are still so fresh unaffected by the flying time

MELODY...

Melody...has its own tale to tell
Sometimes, more eloquent than plain speech
Don't just call it a 'sound'
It is more, so much more than 'just' that...

Sometimes, it is boundless like the ocean
Sometimes, tinier than a liquid drop
It is lucid, warm, spontaneous and natural
It is intricate and elusive, possessing elements of its own...

Whatever the origins, the rudiments are all the same
It can turn mellifluous only when properly sequacious
If not, it becomes noisome
A confusion, a disturbance, a clamor...

It is an embayment of so many emotions
Embalmed with all kinds of live human sensitivities
Technically, it might be read as a careful collection of musical notes
But for you and me, it can mean a lot more than that...

Wide-spread are its capacities and capabilities
Though it comes in through one of the many human senses
It embarks right at the center of the tender heart
Making it fall in or out of love...

It can be inspiring, it can be depressing
It can be arousing, it can be demeaning
It can make you tap your feet and join a joyful jig
It can make you slip into a peaceful repose

It can be soothing, it can be galling
It can be stimulating, it can be ebullient
It can be placid, it can be morbid
It can be whimsical, it can be ludicrous

It can be as passionate as a lover's kiss or as affectionate as a mother's caress...
It can be everything if you want it to be
It can be anything you want it to be
It can still be nothing if you do not want it

It can be a live voice or an meretricious instrument
What ever it is, where ever it comes from
Don't just call it a 'sound'
It is more, much more than 'just' that...

AN EMOTIONAL LABYRINTH...

"Only a week from now," I told myself.
Oh my God! It is a week!
Not a day or two!
It is a whole Goddamn week!
Seven days! Seven restless days appended by seven sleepless nights...
"Do all the girls in my situation feel the way?" I wondered.
I wouldn't want to say that I entirely disliked the sudden rush of emotions I had begun to experience these days. I wouldn't even want to say that I liked them.
What I'm going through is a strange mixture of pleasure and displeasure; a combination of fright and tranquility. It is strength and weakness ensembled; enigma and euphoria blended with each other.
Am I nervous? Hell yes! I'm! I'm absolutely nervous! Completely freaked out!
And worse, I started imagining all sorts of absurd things.
Too many questions started ravaging my mind, causing an interminable havoc there.
What if something really terrible happens on that day? What if I trip and fall down in front of him? What if I become unconscious? (and that did seem like a certainty looking at the way I'm going on right now) God! That would surely be a disaster!
What if he doesn't like me? What if he doesn't find me beautiful? What if he thinks I'm ugly? What if he doesn't like the way I talk? What if he thinks I wont make a good wife for him? What if he is already in love with someone else and has agreed to come here due to the persistence of his parents?
What if he doesn't meet my expectations? What if he is a freak? What if he turns out to be some sort of a lunatic? What if...What if...What if...?
What has happened to my adamantly maintained self confidence and the always accompanying rationality and reasoning? Where had they vanished?
My head started spinning and I collapsed into a chair.
I know nothing about him. I know absolutely nothing. Except for his name, which continually keeps ringing in my ears, owing to my noisy family, who now seem to find immense pleasure in teasing me, taking his name again and again (I'd hate to admit it but, I enjoy it too) and his picture, his awfully nice picture that they had shown me only a few days back, the picture I'd been tempted to steal a look at at every possible opportunity, I know nothing about him. I don't even know what his voice sounds like.
Yet, here I'm unable to think of nothing but him, thinking of how marriage with him would be like. Weird huh? Arranged marriage matches do seem a little weird. But that is the beauty in them.
I'd never foreseen the anticipation and nervousness that has now engulfed me completely. I want to 'fast forward' the time and go ahead of the week separating me from that fateful day. At the same time, I don't want to loose all this waiting and the thrilling suspense. And at the same time, I also want to stop the time here, run away from my house, away from the noise, excitement and laughter, away from the charged air and hide somewhere, bury myself somewhere.
I spoke at lenght to my best friends to quieten my racing nerves. It gave me a momentary solace. But nah! No amount of talk, meditation or efforts to distract my mind proved fruitful.
I need something else, something more. I need to clear my mind off things. I need to sit and think. I need to sit and write.
Well, here I'm trying hard to get myself together, penning down and sorting out all my confusion and my irregular, clogged thoughts... trying to clear my emotional labyrinth!!!

WHY??!!

Why does the world look so beautiful?
Why is it suddenly filled with nothing but you?
Why was I destined to meet you?
Why was I meant to fall madly in love with you?

Why does a simple 'good morning' from you make me blush?
Why does the sound of your laughter melt my insides?
Why are my days and nights filled with thoughts about you?
Why cant I just get you out of my system?

Why do I always feel like talking to you?
Why do I always feel like listening to your voice?
Why do I miss you even when I'm with you?
Why cant I just get enough of you?

Why cant I even endure the thought of loosing you?
Why do I want to loose myself in your arms?
Why do I feel like living for you?
Why do I feel like dying for you?

Why is it that I cant be yours?
Why is it that I still love you?
Why does thinking about you hurt so much?
Why do I still feel like reveling in the pain?

Why cant I ever hate you?
Why cant I hate myself for loving you?
Why do I keep asking these questions over and over again?
Yet...why cant I find answers to any?

THE PERFECT ARRANGEMENT...

Major part of our country's population is opting for arranged marriages. Reason: I am not sure either, as I am not an analyst or a psychologist. But I guess it is because Indians, many of them, if not all, heart-in heart, do not want to change the age-old traditions. However, I was never interested in a marriage arranged by my parents. It is not that I don't trust them, but it is because I didn't like the idea at all. I always thought love happens, naturally. It should and can never be arranged. And also, what do my parents know about what kind of a guy I want. So, I had set out searching for my 'natural love.' I had tried everything under the sky. I had gone out with a few, had made new friends, I searched faces desperately and even went to the extent of blind dating. But no! I'd never found anyone who had interested me enough for a second meeting at least. My parents, naturally, were worried.
"How long do you choose to stay unmarried?" my father asked me one night, quite abruptly. Such situations were not entirely new to me and I tried to cut him off.
"Listen!" he said, this time, a little stern, "I don't understand what you have got against arranged marriages."
"Dad, I told you this so many times," I tried to reason with him, "it sounds like a business deal and I don't my life to be settled like one."
"If you fee that way," my dad continued, making it clear to me that this time, he is not going to give up that easily, "do you think there is no love in our marriage? Don't you believe that your mother and I love each other. Ours was an arranged marriage, you know?"
But, I was not convinced. "Dad, you lived in a different time. Times change dad. Today, the whole perspective of marriage has changed..." I was about to say something else.
But, my dad snapped, "nothing has changed." Looking at my expression, he seemed to soften up a little. He continued softly, "there is my friend's son..."
"Oh no!" I interjected, "not again!"
"Please," he said more persuasively, "at least, listen to me. We think he is perfect for you. Just meet him once. Just once. If you don't like him, I promise you, I'll never try to convince you again in this matter."
I thought for a moment.
I wasn't sure, for a moment, which one was more attractive- was it the promise that dad made or was it my anxiety to see which kind of a man my parents thought would be perfect for me. I couldn't wait to prove them wrong. After all, they dint know what I actually wanted!
Somehow, what ever the reason was, I agreed to go out with 'the perfect guy.'
I was dressed quite plainly and dint take any special effort to look beautiful. All I was interested in was to get this ordeal done with, rush home and voice my rejection of my parent's 'perfect guy.'
It turned out I was partly right. When he arrived, he neither took my breath away, nor made my heart skip a beat. He was just like this ordinary-looking guy, who wouldn't turn many heads.
"Strike one!" I thought, triumphantly. How could my parents even think we would fit in together? He smiled uncertainly and let his hand out to introduce himself. His grip was firm. But, nah! The handshake was so business -like. And that was what I loathed the most- making marriage a 'business.'
But when he had started talking, a little reservedly at first, and then more openly later, in spite of myself, I was a little amused. And then, he smiled. Hmmm... he actually didn't look that bad when he smiled. In fact, if I had met him at another place, at another time, under different circumstances, I would have called him attractive. But now, he is my parent's choice. He couldn't be that good. Or could he?
As time progressed, I couldn't help enjoying myself more and more. Soon, I became aware of a contradiction to my earlier thoughts shaping up in my mind. He was actually good, very good. What surprised me the most was how much alike we both were. My father wasn't joking when he had said, 'perfect for me.' And until now, I wasn't aware that my parents knew so much about me, so much that they have chosen this man for me.
I couldn't be more sorry when the meeting (or I would rather call it a really lovely date) was over. With all my thoughts turned topsy-turvy, I let him drive me home. I shyly bade him good night and disappeared into my room, without even a word for my anxious parents. That was my ego!
But truly speaking, I couldn't wait for out next meeting, which I suspected wasn't far away.
A few weeks later, one night, after yet another great evening, at my door, he said a little hesitantly, "I should tell you something." I was a little alarmed at the tone of his voice, as I didn't want anything to spoil what we were having. Now, all I wanted to do was to admit to my parents that I was wrong and they were right, absolutely right! Oh! how right they were!
"I was really not very interested in meeting you, in the beginning," he said, evidently trying to put his words carefully and he added hastily, "only in the beginning, not now." He searched my face and said slowly, "I always felt love should come, all by itself. No can can set it up. But, my parents..." I needn't listen to the rest. I smiled and could feel it growing by the time he finished, "I didn't think I would say this to a girl after knowing her for such a little time but," he paused, moved nearer to me, as my heart started beating wildly, "but I think I'm falling in love...I am falling in love with you."
Only a few months later, we were married.

A BROKEN PROMISE...

“We’ll always be in touch,” we promised each other, amidst tears, “we’ll keep meeting every week.”

That was the day when we officially drifted apart.

These were the faces I had been seeing almost every day, for the past few years. These were the people, with whom I had shared joy and pain all these days. These are my friends, God’s present for me. All these years, my life had revolved pretty much around them.

I’d always thought we were inseparable. No one can ever tear us apart. Nothing could ever come in between us.

We were friends- the world’s best friends. I thought. When we had to go on in our separate ways, I was sad, of course! But, did it really matter? We can always keep ‘in touch!’ and also, there was that promise that we’d meet every week.

What I didn’t foresee was that the weeks would turn into months, and months into years. All of us got ‘unnaturally busy’ with our own lives, so busy that days passed and there came a point when we actually lost ‘touch.’ We no longer know what’s going in each other’s lives. The promise broke.

Even today, I keep wondering where all those magical moments had gone, when we all spent blissfully in each other’s company, where all the laughter had gone, where the magic bond that had kept us together had vanished.

Do my ‘friends’ feel the same way? Do they think about me? Do they miss me? Do they at least remember me? I have no way of knowing.

Somebody was so true when he said, “Life is like a train journey.” The person sitting right next to you is just a fellow passenger aboard. He might accompany you till the end of the journey or descend in the middle, and leave you to complete the rest of your journey alone.