Four Letters

I see a smile on his face now,
A smile I wanted to see for a long time,
He’s happy, she’s happy, and so am I,
To smile and be cheerful, this is the time.
Now I know why the gods said,
They wouldn’t help me come what may,
‘Cause it’s not something you fight for,
It’s not something you can win or lose.
You don’t earn it either, and you don’t give it,
It’s just what the mind plays when it’s idle,
And when you get busier, you’ll forget,
That it existed, that I was.
He thinks he’s happy, I shouldn’t tell him,
How wrong he is, how wrong she is,
‘Cause I know he’ll be wronged, unfaithfully wronged,
And although they say there aren’t tears,
When men cry there’s only a fainter smile,
I’ll tell him that those four letters he uttered,
Will soon make him see what I’ve seen some times,
You never actually love anyone, it’s only
The love for yourself that you see in her,
‘Cause if you were to love one in this world,
You would love yourself, you should, you must.

Hands on My Eyes

And now I think you have realized,
That we are destined to meet somehow,
For you’ve understood without my telling you,
I don’t know why, I don’t know how,
Hands on my eyes, and I still recognized,
The warmth of it, I knew was yours,
The scent which lingers through my mind,
Told me it’s you, it couldn’t be false,
I now remember how you had hissed,
Into my ears saying I was wrong,
To bring things up when they were least needed to,
Now you know I’m not wrong.
‘Cause I have waited, my lips are tight,
And no one can make me confess anymore,
I know deep within you still have a fright,
But don’t be frightened, I don’t feel so anymore.
Ah, don’t be mistaken, I still love you,
Only now that I don’t expect it back,
For I know if I were you and you me,
I wouldn’t expect you to expect anything back.

Shaena – Chapter 5


A morning of January. Cold, dry and silent. It had been eight months now. Nothing much had happened in this interval. Shaena and I had not been talking since that night, and except for the moment each day when we crossed each other while entering the class, she didn’t look at me, and neither did I. I had assumed that it was destined to be so. Only if it was!

The computer lab gave us a chance to come on talking terms again. It was there that we said ‘Hi’ again, and pretended as if nothing had ever happened. She probably must have felt that it was the appropriate thing to do. I tried to behave as normal as possible. “So which book are you reading now?” I asked. “The Namesake”, she said. “Oh, you know what, the boy at length realizes that it doesn’t matter what his name was. Moreover, he starts reading the book of Nikolai Gogol his dad gave him on his birthday.” “You weren’t supposed to tell me that,” she said. Deja vu.

Things turned normal in a few days. We talked as and when needed, not more, not less. “The rains will come and they will go. But you can’t afford to get wet in it every time, can you?” she said one day. And for the first time, I understood what she said.

As our class had a small strength, talks of Shaena and I getting back on talking terms spread. People hardly knew why we had stopped talking, yet they seemed happy when they got to know that we were talking. We never talked of that evening. Shaena had left the coaching classes six months back, so there was no chance of such a repetition. Things went pretty normal for some four months. The day’s brightest before dusk, they say. Something similar was to come.

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Shaena – Chapter 2


It took me a can of Coke to convince our class monitor to ask the teacher to shift me to the seat beside her. He got it done, and now I sat two benches behind. Things had changed a little since the first day. She did not sketch flowers on a sheet anymore; this time she was reading a book, probably a novel. She used to keep the book on her lap, and her head on the desk, and continue to read for the whole day. She didn’t care about what the Physics teacher said about thermodynamics, and she didn’t know that the Maths teacher had already started with trigonometry. The only time she raised her head was when the teacher called out her name, when she took attendance. Once I asked her to pay attention in class lest she’d probably might miss some important topics. She looked at me, said nothing, and returned to reading her book. And as she put her head down on the desk again, it was the first time I noticed her hair. It was auburn and black, and they were untied, with three clips cleanly placed at equal distances. And that was the first time I felt something, which I wiped off almost instantaneously.

There weren’t probably many reasons I could present for my urge to be friends with her. She had her set of friends, with whom she laughed and jabbered, and I had my set of friends, with whom I stayed for the majority of the school hours, and after school as well. She didn’t attend classes one day, and I assumed she was ill, and when she returned, she had a new book with her. When I asked her why she was absent from school, she smiled and said, “I woke up late,” after which she returned to her new book. That was the moment I realized what I had to do to be good friends with her.

The next day, she came in, took her seat. And she was pleased by what she saw. For I had a book in my hand, a novel. I had decided that the only way we could connect was to talk about fiction, and novels, and not studies. She seemed quite interested, and asked me which book I was reading. I said ‘The Alchemist’, and she said, “Oh, you know what, the boy finds the treasure under his own house.” I pretended to be angry and said, “You weren’t supposed to tell me that,” and she laughed. I looked at her face, forgot everything for a second, and then laughed along. This was just the beginning. We started talking. From books, we went to authors, and styles of writing. She would do most of the speaking, because I had no clue about that. She would speak of poetry, and how a ballad was different from a sonnet. She would compare O Henry with Wordsworth, and I would pretend to pay full attention to what she was saying. Meanwhile, the teacher finished with topics I had no clue of.

Two months and we were good friends. Our topics of discussion now changed. She would talk to me about how her yesterday was, and I would say the same. We exchanged numbers, just in case we ever needed them. And thus the foundation for our to-become-close-friends was laid.

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Holidays Over

Hello readers! How’s everything? It has been long since I have posted something that actually made sense, and I have explanations to vindicate that, though I’ll keep it aside for now. I want to take this opportunity to first express my gratitude all my readers all over the world; over months this blog has earned your fondness, and that is all what I write for, to develop a fondness towards reading and writing. The visits have increased tremendously; for me even two thousand is tremendous because when I had started to write I did not expect this rate of turnover. Thank you all for that. There’s a popular saying in Sanskrit, “Atithi Devo Bhavaha”, which means that Guest should be treated just as you would treat God, and I have always tried my best to keep up to it. I hope I have succeeded, if only a bit.

I returned to college today, after a long vacation of over two months. And since I have no work at the moment, I might as well tell you what all I did this summer. I know no one would be interested in the unraveling of a twenty-year old collegiate, but still, how does that matter? I want to write. 😀 So let me start. I completed watching all the episodes of Tintin which I had, and Small Wonder too. I collected seventy-eight episodes of Sarabhai vs Sarabhai, and finished them. I watched Hindi movies, so many of them, some old, some new, some for the first time, some the second time. Among first times were Jab We Met, Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na, Oye Lucky Lucky Oye, Guzaarish, Kites, Delhi Belly, Shaitan, Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, Ready, Ajnabee and others. Among second and nth times were Race, Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge, and some more, can’t recall right now. I watched an English movie Dinocroc vs Supergator, which was fun. I watched all the episodes of Roadies 8. Roadies 8 ended pathetically, I must say. I didn’t miss a second of Coke Studio @ MTV, and neither did I miss a minute of Stuntmania Underground. I watched WWE one day, and it reminded me of days in high school when I did the same.

At other times I read. I finished “The Namesake”, and read a part of “The Guide”, which bored me. “The Namesake”, by Jhumpa Lahiri, is quite a decent book. Gogol, the protagonist, is named after his father’s favorite author, Nikolai Gogol. But growing up in an Indian family in suburban America, the boy starts to hate the awkward name and itches to cast it off, along with the inherited values it represents. Determined to live a life far removed from that of his parents, Gogol sets off on hi own path only to discover that the search for identity depends on much more than a name. You must read the story if you can. I finished writing a beginner’s tutorial to Java, a programming language, which I will be putting up soon on this blog. I tried to wet my hands on C++, another language, which I don’t know much about. I bought new clothes, misplaced my watch,  I visited my friends and relatives, had fun, ate at various places, drove on random roads, and visited the doctor. And most importantly, I slept. A lot.

Yet, as always, you cannot have one side of a coin. You need to have both. You cannot deny. My local SIM card stopped working, and I could not contact any of my friends for a long time. My broadband gave errors, due to which I could not access the internet for almost a fortnight, after which I bought myself a USB modem which allowed me to use the internet at terribly low speeds. Grief struck the whole family as my uncle expired after four massive heart attacks in six days. There were other things to be sad about, but they all looked minute and insignificant in the darkness of this.

I would like to keep this short, so well, that’s all for now. Will be putting up new poems, stories, and experiences soon. See you soon. Good bye for now. Stay safe, stay happy.

Once Again

When today I saw you on the street this morning,
You weren’t supposed to be there.
When I looked at you and tried to figure out,
In the light of the day your face,
You weren’t supposed to be figured out.
When you decided to ignore me,
For the sake of your safety,
I wasn’t supposed to be hurt.
When you purposely hurt me and say,
It wasn’t intentional, only a coincidence,
I am not supposed to be told that.
Once again it’s happening, the pages of an old diary,
Once again it’ll happen, that page of the old diary.
When you said you’ll walk with me by day,
I wasn’t supposed to be your shadow.
When you said you’ll be with me all night,
I wasn’t supposed to be your pillow.
When just for the sake of your happiness,
You play with my life and say you’re sorry,
I’m not supposed to be hurt at all.
To whomsoever this may concern, go away,
I don’t want you by me, night or day,
Go away, you can’t do anything to me,
I don’t want to be hurt once again.

Walking through the Slums

Walking Through the Slums
Walking Through the Slums

Is it the city, or the village? Or rather a hybrid of both? Walking through the slum, I felt as if a new world had opened it horizon to me, a unique type of life I had never come across till today.. a simple yet complicated one, a sad yet satisfied one, a wry smile on the faces of all, with a sure hope that happiness will knock on their doors certainly one day..