These are rare rare days. When I get to touch my ipod. Feel it, as if a baby is feeling the first warmth of wool in his first winter - may be, smilingly, he thinks, wow! is there something as warm as mom?
Then? Then hold it a bit in my palms...caress it with my eyes, ask silently, sweetheart, how have you been?
And it would sing to me...Mathura Nagarpati kahe tum Gokul jao?
or perhaps...Aap kahe to...marjaye hum...aap kahe to...jee lete hain...
It has always been my friend. Always given me music, just the right music, whenever I needed. Thing is, I seldom seem to need music these days. Similarly, tears too, don't seem a necessity. So they have got detached from me over the time. My two dearest friends...
As my bestest friend has...gone far far away from me...
Still God plays crooked, obstinate jokes, and things come together. Who am I? Just a lifeless being? Do I have feelings? Am I supposed to have them? And if I don't feel anything, then what to protest against? And what to be happy about?
So I just silently watch, as tears come back, songs flood me, and my lifeless love story is forced into a zombie like drama enactment of material existence...oh the heroine is not dead yet, and she is on speaking terms with the hero...they work together. Oh she's trying to find a parallel life, yes she does get a bit wild when nobody else helps her in that...but yes that too makes her more of a laughing stock only. Oh she's very much trying to live, brave girl, very brave girl...scaling up professionally, making new friends, forming new ideas of a forced survival...some girl she is...
Bravery my foot. How does my bravery count when the man I loved with all my heart turned out a coward? Mistake? You know what would kill the girl, she trusts you and tells it all to you, and you chose to hit her at that very spot and call it a mistake? It is COWARDICE.
I remember the first day at TKML. He trying to behave professional with me. Being almost equally obstinate, as God was today, and perhaps will be tomorrow. And then giving in. To my anger, to my hands clasped in prayer - in begging mercy from him. Did I know the mercy won't last a year? Did I know I shall have to behave as professionally with him, willingly, without flinching? As we sat on the bike, looking at the full moon in the Holi night, did I know, next March, there won't be any color left for me? Or perhaps red, the red I always see on my parting as the sun sets, will mingle up with the blood of my heart?
Yes dear God, it pains. PAINS. But You want to play this game, bring it on. What is left of destroying me? But still if You are not satisfied, keep doing it. Unaccustomed Earth, where all known faces become unknown. Let alone faces, feelings too. In this era where there is no value to human life itself, no respect for humanity as well...who cares for romance? Who cares when a miracle turns into misgiving. Not now God, not now. But when I meet You up there, You will have questions to answer. Lot many questions.
Then? Then hold it a bit in my palms...caress it with my eyes, ask silently, sweetheart, how have you been?
And it would sing to me...Mathura Nagarpati kahe tum Gokul jao?
or perhaps...Aap kahe to...marjaye hum...aap kahe to...jee lete hain...
It has always been my friend. Always given me music, just the right music, whenever I needed. Thing is, I seldom seem to need music these days. Similarly, tears too, don't seem a necessity. So they have got detached from me over the time. My two dearest friends...
As my bestest friend has...gone far far away from me...
Still God plays crooked, obstinate jokes, and things come together. Who am I? Just a lifeless being? Do I have feelings? Am I supposed to have them? And if I don't feel anything, then what to protest against? And what to be happy about?
So I just silently watch, as tears come back, songs flood me, and my lifeless love story is forced into a zombie like drama enactment of material existence...oh the heroine is not dead yet, and she is on speaking terms with the hero...they work together. Oh she's trying to find a parallel life, yes she does get a bit wild when nobody else helps her in that...but yes that too makes her more of a laughing stock only. Oh she's very much trying to live, brave girl, very brave girl...scaling up professionally, making new friends, forming new ideas of a forced survival...some girl she is...
Bravery my foot. How does my bravery count when the man I loved with all my heart turned out a coward? Mistake? You know what would kill the girl, she trusts you and tells it all to you, and you chose to hit her at that very spot and call it a mistake? It is COWARDICE.
I remember the first day at TKML. He trying to behave professional with me. Being almost equally obstinate, as God was today, and perhaps will be tomorrow. And then giving in. To my anger, to my hands clasped in prayer - in begging mercy from him. Did I know the mercy won't last a year? Did I know I shall have to behave as professionally with him, willingly, without flinching? As we sat on the bike, looking at the full moon in the Holi night, did I know, next March, there won't be any color left for me? Or perhaps red, the red I always see on my parting as the sun sets, will mingle up with the blood of my heart?
Yes dear God, it pains. PAINS. But You want to play this game, bring it on. What is left of destroying me? But still if You are not satisfied, keep doing it. Unaccustomed Earth, where all known faces become unknown. Let alone faces, feelings too. In this era where there is no value to human life itself, no respect for humanity as well...who cares for romance? Who cares when a miracle turns into misgiving. Not now God, not now. But when I meet You up there, You will have questions to answer. Lot many questions.
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