Paperboats.

High above the ground, sitting by the glass window watching the rain splatter.. footsteps on the concrete with the voices in the street; I guess I hear every sound on the ground. Even street lights dancing in the moonlight, across the park, I know of glitter in the dark. From the window view, I can see the colors turn blue, painting pictures as fresh as the water clear. Days have passed, in the silence, the murmur, the whispering of the birds; waiting, patiently and eagerly, for the hue to break. The footsteps on the city ground now grow old and wear out, eventually, and fade away.

Ask me to define magic to you and I’ll tell you about the ferocious waves rising and elegantly receding back. Ask me about colors and I’ll walk you where the rainbow meets the pot of gold. Ask me to describe emotions and I’ll show you the storm, thundering sky and the sunlight trying to break through. Talk to me about going, we can swim to the ocean-bed where everything torn apart steps boundaries.

~'to see the world in a grain of sand,

and heaven in a wildflower,

hold infinity in the palm of your hand

and eternity in an hour.'

William Blake.

Nearby a river with a boat afloat, alone wavering in the splashes of the waves, he sees the stones on the riverbed closing in. Down as he sways, slowly disappears into the mist.

limits

locked chains; and
closed windows
breathing through a muzzle,
tired, worn out.
Time- lasting for more than it should.
       - prevailing longer i would.
Striking thunders impossible to bear;
shattered glasses wrapped in the desolate wounds.
       ~Loud cries- telling me to go.
Breaching- the unmistakable bullets;
quivering footsteps- the song repeats itself;
taken away, by tears of a pristine heart
bound, by eyes shimmering in the dark.

Message in a bottle

'A tear cometh to the eye,

A lone cry

To the lip;

I know the dream you seek.

In memory.. of precious times

Nostalgia: is a powerful trip.'

-Nikita Das

~Sharing everything, each small little event in a day had become such an important part of my day, my life, that now with it dwindled, the directions are a little tough to figure. Stare at the blank piece of paper for over a couple of hours in hope to spill thoughts, feelings; for something to trigger it all off. And all is given up, it begins to pour out of nowhere. The clouds broke off to let the moon shine bright in the sky.

We usually think we have our entire lives to share all that’s been missing, not realizing what’s there waiting for us right at the next turn. Every end of a great chapter is the start of a new book. You think of some things as unimportant, that could be said tomorrow, be shared tomorrow.. but more often than not, it’s the tomorrow we all await that find us off guard, unaware, unprepared of the cataclysmic disasters.

Monsoon's first rains. Worli Sea face. Lands end. Acrid yet subdued and subtle winds and waves. The Victoria. And a cup of hot chocolate.

Mumbai is one of those cities where you know no one stops no matter what. Come hell or high. Driven by the enthusiasm, forbearance and watchfulness of the people, this city is one of the most vivacious I’ve ever come across. Amazing how when people decide and choose to walk hand in hand, what an indestructible wall it creates. A smile across each face is a trait Mumbai inhabits. The locals, the buses, autos and cars..everything in perfect sync with the other. It’ll never judge you, the city, or the people; at every corner you can be certain to find a smiling face striking a conversation. The sea just adds more to its eminence and charm. Personal love, was to spend my time at the Bandstand between the land and the sea, watching the sunset, the sky change colours..from pink to orange to blue to black..for the night sky to set in and the city lights to add to the glitterati of it all. It’s really scintillating to just be there and watch the change of the pastel shades of the sky..to hear the mellow waves splashing at the rocks. I wished for you to be a part of it someday. The thing is, I could rant about this city for as long as anyone can imagine; but instead of doing that, I hoped to steal you and show it all to you. Even though you’ve seen it. Even though you know it all. Still. No matter what i say, it’ll always be less to express its grandeur. (i wish..)

So, this is about one of those days when things didn’t really turn out as planned. Not that they usually do around me, anyhow, sometimes unpredictable is all you have to be. So i set sail into the city. It was always welcoming. I had to do something i hadn’t done as yet. I couldn’t leave any stone unturned..i never do. So there I reached my first stop for the night. Worli sea face they call it. A deep orange shade of the sky and the cacophonous waves made a perfect compatible partner. I wonder if it would have been the same if the rambling of the clouds didn’t spark up the moment and light up my eyes. I eagerly awaited the first showers of the season. Also, it’d be my first rain in the city. And I wanted the world to convoy me in the joy it would bring to me. So, soon enough I was at Mumbai’s very favourite Marine drive. My heart couldn’t contain with the joy I felt. The lights that outlined the city looked more than just simply dazzling. The subtle raindrops tapped on my window, played on my face. I was in love with it. The sea splattering against the walls, the waves soaring so high that they seemed to merge with the rain, had me spellbound. Yiruma (river flows) played in the background. I could see the city lights shimmering on one side of me and the other I saw the rough, dark untameable waters.

Since obviously I have my inquisitiveness on a roll, I had to go for the ever so famous Victoria ride. Not soon after we were seated, did the rain build up and began to pour cats and dogs. I was gone from the drives of the marines for a good half an hour. Came back absolutely drenched and soaking wet, and the biggest smile of content. Sneezing, dripping and shivering, approached the Oberois’ Palms to fetch myself a hot cup of hot chocolate. And till date, I can give my word for their hot chocolate to be unparalleled, unrivalled. That night, we dried ourself up under the dryer in the washroom. Felt silly, but then who had the time for take note of it all. But I was pretty tired with my achievements tonight. So, at the break of dawn, decided to find my way back home. Though there was one last place to go to. Near home was Mumbai’s lands end. Obviously after a pretty enthralling day, so to calm down, to gather up the events so I could cherish them for a long time to come, I wanted to just spend a few minutes up there. And you know, a cup of aamchi Mumbai’s cutting chai can be quite a zealous ally. And the sight of the sunrise completed my perfect memory.

It’s fascinating how the simplest things are the ones we cherish the most. How understated and unpretentious it all is, yet, this very simplicity is deceptive to all, even the most experienced eye.

I always wanted to share the story of this night. To show how happiness finds its ways in the most unexpected ways. It’s overrated, this life. It’s as naive as you are.

Vagabond

My head spins a million stories. Each day. Every hour. All random moments passing by. Honestly, it’s tough not to when you’ve grown up listening and reading them.

So, twenty-one genres of stories; seven types of plot lines and four structures. Born in Delhi and brought up in a multitude of cities, places and faces, I could spend years warming up to the idea of settling down.

It’s about the journey, not about the destination. And I happened to accept and follow this with all my heart and soul. Though there are parts and phases of the journey that I may have forgotten, left behind or have decided to overlook, probably because of myriad reasons. As a child, I remember how mum dad would always remind us of the pending essay to be written on our way back from a trip or an outing. Lost count of the pending blank pages of my notebook. Having a map on the inside of my closet and marking every city visited made me fall head over heels in love with travelling. Checking that list of things to be packed, the insomnia with excitement of the journey, the butterflies in my belly at the time of departure, and to know that this is just the start. Well, that’s my favourite part of an adventure. The beginning. The start of the journey. That feeling that I can take on the world if need be. That sweet smell of independence. Adding yourself to your own hall of fame.

I’m 21 years old. In these few years of my life, I have managed to conquer 38 cities that I can count off from the top of my head. It’s no big accomplishment or attainment, but I come from these 38 cities, these 38 destinations, the hours of venturing through them, the bazillion minutes spent recollecting memories from these destinations. I’ve met some wonderful people through this time. It’s something I find myself passionate towards, meeting new cities, new lanes, new homes, new people. Cultures, languages, beliefs, religions. Truth, lies, dejection, honesty, purity, love, hate.  Places, names, faces. I don’t travel to run away, be it from my home, from my people, but to come back to them and know why I am where I am.

So what’s your story. Adventure. Mystery. Saga. Romantic. Slice of life. Faction. Speculative. Or even urban. Would you travel the world to find yourself. Would you hide yourself in a shell to remain an enigma.  Or would you live life and love. Would you be a part of the nature of reality, or maybe even be an answer to sorts of questions. What length would you travel to, to know.

“Traveling is a brutality.

It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance.

Nothing is yours except the essential things –air, sleep, dreams, the sea, the sky – all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.”

- Cesare Pavese

Fluorescence

So, well, putting thoughts into words has never been an easy task. Especially every time you touch the pencil to paper there’s an ocean of thoughts flowing through. Definite case of overwhelmed mind and heart.

This has taken a long time coming. It was about half a year back that writing pulled me in and Green Life gave me my most awaited break. Overwhelmed, the person I am, couldn’t put my feet on the ground. My editor, my mentor and the lady I look upto seeded the idea of a blog in my head. I have spent months ever since thinking of an apt name, the ideal articles, the designs, pictures and what not..thinking of what should be written that would be appreciated. Into picture, enters my best friend. As I was told, “sometimes, it’s alright to pick things from the top of your head.” Well, here I am.  This was long back when I was a blink away from creating this blog and then other things amongst college caught my attention. Recently, I made a new friend, gem of a person really. She wrote me a feedback to one of my first published articles and kicked me to take up blogging and this time actually do it. Encouragement does find its way through.

 ~Cut Thrusday, April 25,2013.

Today, I’m sitting here trying super-hard preparing for my last ever exam (for a while atleast) and all I can think about is filling up the blank sheets of paper with thoughts. Overwhleming.  My college is ending tomorrow. I honestly don’t know how I feel about it. The most crucial years in a person’s life, the learning, the fun, the madness, the chaos; it’s pretty much right for people to put it as an end of an era. Times of common bonding, and secrets kept and of battles together fought; the unfulfilled, unusual duty of friendship neither aimed for nor deserved. A place where we grew together, learnt together but most of all learned from each other. I came here so unacquainted to the city, the people and what was in store for me. I came with dreams and hopes for a ride worth the while. And when I think back to it, the four years of life, the most important ones, the most exciting ones, its been all worth it. Every bit of it. Think of love, friendship, indifference, arguments, fights, heartbreak; every high and low of emotions been experienced and felt at full throttle.

Anyhoo, diverting to the subject in priority to be, artificial intelligence and it’s like red mango-pink orange-yellow watermelon.

Back to present day.

Ah, the bliss and satisfaction of winding up the last paper of your engineering. Unparalleled. The feeling of ecstasy, frolic, jubilance and cheer, along with that sense of achievement, it’s as though you can take on the world. This being the last day at college, I wanted to make sure I took in everything that made my years. Starting from my hideout, to each familiar face, to the walls of the classrooms (the red brick walls), to twirling slippery staircases and to the boy in my socks. I took one good last look and absorbed it all. And then, I did something I have wanted to do since a long time; I ran towards the gate and out of it, without as much as a glance behind.

Sitting here today in my balcony, I wonder the answers to a lot of questions swimming around in my head. About taking the road less travelled or making the conventional calls. Whether following dreams and passions or the facts of existence. Gumption vs naivety. I also wonder if I’m the only one in this fix. I calm myself down, ‘everything in life is figured out except how to live it’.

“Before me is infinite power.

Before me is endless possibility.

Around me is boundless opportunity.

Why should I fear?”