Today is Special

A faint orange glow
from her broken window
She gets up, says a prayer,
smiles at her little palms
And decides to try something
new with her hair

Neatly partitioned in the centre,
Two slim french braids.
Just like the girl
from the movie theatre.
It takes her longer
to get ready for school.
She irons out her brother's
uniform before her pinafore.
But the braids are important.
The popular girls
will finally notice her.

A quick kiss on mother's cheek,
she strides out with her bicycle.
Today, she is leading her class assembly.

Today is special.
There is a raatraani tree on her way.
She picks the fallen flowers,
still fresh, fragrant and moist,
And begins to arrange them in her braid.

"Hi, beautiful", someone calls from ahead.
She hadn't noticed the cycles parked
A little way off until just now.
She doesn't like the voice.
It makes the word sound cursed.

Laughter follows as she whirls around
to get back to her cycle. Her safety.
But they catch up with her.
She knows some of them.
That boy with the cut lip,
he works in the city.
His brother is in her class.
They smile at her.
She knows it isn't a good smile.

She pretends they aren't there
and continues to walk on.
Her mother taught her
to ignore such men.

One of them asks if she is
uncomfortable in her dress.
Should he help her out of it?
She wants to cry
But she walks.

As she gets on to her safety,
the city-boy says to the others - his whore
puts raatrani in her hair.

Pedaling on as fast
as her legs can carry,
she doesn't dare look back.
In her frenzy to get the flowers
out of her hair, her braids
come undone.

She must stop crying before
she reaches school.
She has an assembly to lead.

A page from my Diary

Chennai Office, 1.00 pm.

So after my wonderful trip to Vaishnodevi temple, I flew to Chennai for two weeks, then Bombay last week and flew back here (yes, AGAIN) for continuation of what we label work. Right now, that’s where I am, sitting alone, typing this out in a chilly conference room at the client’s office; wearing a sweater when the temperature outside is 340C. Last night, however, was hot, dirty and sweaty. From afternoon to midnight, I was counting engines, wheel rims, cylinders, slider frames, axles, valves, tube tires, and even nuts and bolts. I was at an unpronounceable remote plant location at the Tamil Nadu-Andhra Pradesh border conducting Physical Verification of our client’s stock. Blah.

On the hour long return journey from the warehouse to the hotel we’re staying at, sandwiched on the backseat between my team member and a client representative, I received plenty of calls from Bombay. All day too, my phone has been flooded with calls and messages.Today is my birthday. 2^nd April. I have completed nineteen years on this planet and I have no vision, aim or plan for my future. A big thank you to all who wish me well!

Listening to: Make It Up As You Go! – Plain White T’s

 

Hotel Room, 10.00 pm – Post Dinner

Birthday made bright thanks to memories of the advance celebrations in Bombay last week (especially the scrumptious chocolate cake baked by a sexy Saraf and lovely thoughtful gifts from everyone), surprise cake by work team here, and these precious dedications:

#1 (wishes to remain unnamed)

Birthday - just another day for you and me, right? Nothing more, nothing less; except probably the tiny birthday cake and a little bit of attention here and there. But, who wants that anyway... I kept the same attitude till now. And I am not sure if I am going to, willing to or succumb to changing that attitude to "OMG, IT’S MY BIRTHDAY MONTH! YAYIEE" either. Nevertheless, it’s a special day. Today is special because someone came into the world only to change mine for the better. Guess what? That’s a good enough reason for you and me to celebrate.

You are Dear, Harshika Gupta, and you should know that. Never contemplate on how much you have positively contributed to my life because despite the physical distance, trust me - YOU TOP MY LIST. Being with you - real time or just spiritually is just unbelievable. Sometimes I wonder how you can make all my whining, unrealistic love life and ridiculous ambitions seem so normal. Even about being independent, you know... I don't think I'd feel so free if you wouldn't keep reminding me of it.

A mere 'thank you' won't suffice for the strength that you give me. But you must know that I am very lucky and grateful to God to have let me sensed this unbound, unconditional and permanent friendship with Harshika Gupta.

I Love You. Oh! And yea, Happy Birthday. May you have a million reasons to smile and a trillion reasons to laugh! (My April calendar says "A smile is a laugh that bursts", cool na?) Yours, Guess who

#2 (my favorite Shetty)

Dear Harshika,
I find having pen pals amusing. Considering FaceBook doesn't allow that anymore, why would anyone write mails and letters when you can chat and whatspp(darn technology). I know you have too much work to write letters to me. But I declare you my pen pal. I will keep you updated about my (and others) life when you are away whether you like it or not.
Anyway, here's a poem I wrote for this awesome occasion of your birthday. It's called YOU.(Genius me)
Hope you like it!!

You.

The craziness, the lovesickness
Made me think I was the only one
Then I realized you were there too
To share in the fun.

You have some wiring wrong
Considering the things you say and do.
You say the funniest and darnest things
And I actually believe you.

I need to learn to love like you
With all your heart and soul
You do what you want and
Don't always follow the rules.

Every friend has a place
A season that he brings
You are the friend that
Always resembles the spring.

I wish that you soon figure out
What it is that you want to do
It doesn't really matter to me
Coz whatever it is you'd be true.

And that's your share of sappiness
For the friend you have been to me
And I pray for only happiness
From the heavens to shower on thee.

Happy Birthday, Harshika Gupta!!! :D

Ps. Tried to say the above in poetry but nothing really rhymes with Gupta! :(

- Trupthi.

 How lucky am I :)

Feeling blessed,

Wannabe Wayfarer.

Our Unspoken Mutuality

Every morning when I wake up,

I secretly hope to myself

That today, everything will be fine.
That today, we won’t argue.

No! I don’t understand you
Each time I try, I let you down.
How can I be there for you,
When you don’t even need me?

I can see that you love me
You really do.
But you love yourself more
And I can see that too.

When you love me, I hate you;
Because I think I’m undeserving.
When you hate me, why would I love you?
So I hate you anyway.

I do all I can to keep you happy;
But it’s never enough.
So sometimes, I get frustrated
And just stop caring.

Not the victim, you’re a predator;
Feeding on my slavery and my fear.
If I’m a burden, a pain, a curse,
Why won’t you leave me? Or let me go?

I lack the patience and love that you need
I’m selfish, like you
And the powerless coward that you call me;
If upto me, I’d run away – leave you to bleed.

Yes, I know. You’re weak,
Sensitive and fragile
And that it’s beyond your control –
Your scathing remarks, the ill-speak.

This is probably what you think of me too
We’ve grown on one another, that much is true.
Ironic then that I still want to love you
Though now I’m not sure what love is.

Maybe it lies in our efforts to stay together.
This is our love – our unspoken mutuality;
I love you
Because you love me too.

- Wannabe Wayfarer.