Burns not...

Like acid flowing through veins

Burn felt not

Yet the night says it all

One cold beep at a time

Take me

Make me what I am

Throw me away, far and hard

'Cause yet, it burns not...

Great Thoughts from Paulo

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He put down his coffee, lit a cigarette, and looked at the ceiling for a long time. Then he turned to me. “It’s a very simple sentence,” he said. “I love you” –p26

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To love is to lose control. –p37

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Why do we always do this? Why do we notice the speck in our eye but not the mountains, the fields, the olive groves? -p48

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I was there because suddenly life presented me with Life. I felt no guilt, no fear, no embarrassment. As I listened to what he was saying – and felt myself growing closer to him- I was more and more convinced that he was right: there are moments when you have to take a risk, to do crazy things. - P29, 

From 'By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept' (Paulo Coelho)

Time, Or a Kiss?

Time flies like moths on a rainy evening
To the flickers of short-lived emotional flashes
Only to lose wings and fall lame
Onto the green bed  which will suck your remaining life.

Time! The one villain that blocks all repetitions
To repair damages, redo erred scenes.
When does it stop, this 'tick tick'
While it ticks I can't think, not even wish better.

Time to wake up! Begins a day with a yawn or two
Time to sleep? That's how it ends with a question.
How can I feel the whisper of winds that brush by?
How can I feel anything if time takes the first place?

I want to live like a child- dieing for a chocolate crumb
Into the warmth of welcoming hands, I do want to faint.
Need a smile when I return home- just when I need one,
Needless to say I need a hug for every tear I shed.

Despite the flight time has embarked upon
Dreamers like me desire to take a break- a small one.
Long enough to kiss a beautiful child, be kissed by one too
Life never waits they say, that time flies and waits not.

But waits time, and tide if a feeling of you waits to be said
Bait time thus and hold firm; take time to feel and express.
Love the ones that love you; give a smile, take a hug.
Let time wait, till you finish; what's more important- time or a kiss?

Worries about Monkeys and a Home

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Like every other morning, this one too had a lazy blanket pulled over me when my alarm rang for the fifth time after 7 am. This time, the ring of the alarm was annoying. But then i realized that it was not an alarm- it was the phone ringing! And guess who... Yes. You guessed it. I couldn't miss that call.

I was at home. In my quarters. Its a good home. I have a home. It's a pleasant thought- I have a home.

After brushing and bathing, i realized that drinking water is over. So i got ready fast and was trying to go to the office.

I opened the door and found three monkeys sitting on the corridor, silently picking at each others fluffy hairs. Cute- I thought. So I locked the door and walked towards the stair case. Suddenly, one of the monkeys ran towards me screeching. My heart skipped a beat or two. Adrenalin. Death. Run, escape. But i had locked the room- I can't enter my room. If the monkey runs on to me, i will have nowhere to go. Behind me is the end of the corridor, on the third floor. I cant jump off third floor!

But- god be blessed- the monkey went back and kept on picking on its companion. I went back slowly without provoking the monkeys and opened my room. I was thirsty; but there is no water. Now i was suddenly hungry. I need to go to the office. Gathering courage, i got out of my room and walked again to the stair case. But this time, all on a sudden, a BIG monkey appeared from the staircase and came jumping on to me. I am a dead man. But when it saw that i was frightened, it went back proudly. And i went back frightened. Once inside the room, I called a few friends. Mr. Sreekanth Reddy offered me help. But at that moment, he realized that he lost his bike keys. Excellent. I was never happier!

I lost hope in life. I locked myself inside the room. I only have a packet of biscuit- a small one. Death, come with thy cold hands and welcome me into thy kingdom. Alone in my home, I will fall prey to death under seige!

After half an hour, i opened the room and looked at the corridor using a mirror. Monkeys are still there. Death is closer. A few steps closer. Trapped.

My phone rings again. Sreekanth sir. He will be late.

Trap gets closer. I can feel the clenches. Am I sweating? May be this is how death by tension and fear is! May be...

Phone rings again. Sreekanth sir is here. The rescue team is here. Finally. Death is not that close. May be, they can save me from predators.

They came with sticks. And courage. The rescue team. But there were no monkeys. What! No monkeys? What happened to them? Where are they? Why was I caught?

They replied with a smile, “what sir? There are no monkeys here... why are you so frightened?” I blushed... partly ashamed... and looked around. ya. No monkeys. NOW there are no monkeys!

Thanks to the rescue team. I am saved. 
Now, that I am free, I can reflect on what happened and how much courage I have and why monkeys don't have a home and why they come to my home and what we do to other living beings and why we do what we do and so on... Quite some time is needed... because monkeys do deserve a home... like i deserve a quarters... Now I worry. I have a home which stands exactly where their home used to stand... Worries about monkeys and a home... 

Yes. Worries about monkeys and a home!

An aunt and a crow!

Whenever I go home, there are a few things I make sure I do. Some of them are visiting old Kunjaamma at Neeloor, praying at St. Joseph's Church Neeloor and staying a full day at home. But there are a few more things that I desire to do. One of them is visiting my aunt Eliammachi. 

There are many stories of my childhood that they narrate to me. I was the third child of my mother. And my mother was the eldest of 7 sisters. No other sister was married when I was born. So I was the baby of all those 7 sisters. Imagine how love-rich I was. May be, I was never even put down on the bed if each one wanted to caress me for a while!

'Eliammachi'

Eliammachi was my mother's younger sister. She is an extremely beautiful woman. Lovely woman. She is all love. There is always a smile on her face for me. And a kiss for me when I bid farewell. She has gone through tough times for the last decade. But she has managed to maintain her smile and love through all the hardships.

One story she narrates to me is this. When I was a little baby, she took me to the church once. Since mother's home was on a hilltop, it demanded a lot of mountaineering. Anyway, she carried me down the hill to the church. After church, on the way back, she bought me a bun which i liked. I happily rested on her shoulder, nibbling on the bun I got.

It was sunny and hot and the climb was steep. She opened her umbrella so that I won't be burned in the heat. After a while, when my aunt looked back, she found my bun almost fully eaten. Wondering how the little baby could eat that much, she observed me while walking.

When the story reaches this point, she will stop and break into uncontrollable laughter. It seems, a crow was flying around behind us. It cleverly flew down and pecked on my bun little by little while the little me looked at it eating my bun. I can imagine my own face curiously looking at the crow stealing from my bun. My aunt would top the story saying cutely: "my son, you looked so innocent and calm then; as if you were allowing the crow to have its share".

She would pinch my cheeks saying this. And my eyes would be full of tears of joy and gratitude. Just like it is now... Eliammachi, I love you...

The loss of a Bottle!

It was late in the evening when I boarded bus to IIIT-RK Valley. I was looking forward to my new job and its novelties with childlike wonder. It was nothing like earlier. Life was changing day by day. I had to be on my own. And being on my own was a beautiful experience- to begin with. If I wanted to eat, I had to earn. Though a frightening fact for a person of my background, it soon turned out to be an easy task with all the divine blessings focused on whatever I was doing. So as I was sitting in the bus, thoughts of fulfilment and eagerness filled me. ‘Hmm… good’ I thought. 

At around 11 pm, the bus started moving out of the hushed din and buzzle of the never-asleep streets of Hyderabad. Slowly, I crept into my tiredness and disappeared from the world of silly chores. The clumsily decorated background of the sleep world welcomed me as usual with open arms of protection and cheer. The dream had deep, open tubewells that I usually fell into, long snakes with dark and bright spots that usually ate me and hundreds of mountains with thousands of cliffs that I usually fell off from. There were also bright spots where white fairies fluttered their wings and flew around singing some strange song in unusually high pitch. There was a tall old man sitting among them with long white beard and a hallow around his head. The woman who sat next to him was nursing a child, and was beautiful like I have never seen. I loved this world of the sleep. It was alluring and repulsive. Honest and deceptive. Trustable and treacherous. Very human indeed!

But soon, I was shaken out of this beautiful but treacherous world. The bus stopped at some lonely place. The driver was yelling something out over the phone. From what I could make out, someone had missed the bus. So we had to wait. I liked it! In fact, I was waiting for an opportunity to get out of the bus. I had taken a couple of extra sips of water. I had to do it. It was high time. See, blessings come in all forms. I ran out of the bus, and did the needful standing behind a bush, away from the bus. Happy! As soon as I sat in the bus, it started again. I returned to my world again. Into the world of paradoxes.

When light broke, I found the bus cruising among arid mountain ranges fringed with numerous bushes and scary rocks posed dangerously close to ‘falling off’. It was warm. The rocky hill ranges were already fighting with the sun in rage. Between my long yawns, small villages rushed past the bus behind a veil of dust. It was 6.30 am. My neighbour alighted at a comparatively bigger village. Now I had two seats, all to myself. So I kept my water bottle on the empty seat and went back to sleep. 

I was awake again after a while when the driver started shouting Vempalli Vempalli… ‘So it it close to the campus’ thought I. Somehow I dozed off again and again.  After a few minutes, I got up and reached for my water bottle. It was gone! My water bottle is gone. I couldn’t believe my eyes. So I checked if my bags and pockets also lost something. But no. everything is its place. Only the bottle is gone.

Out of all things I carried, why this water bottle? I have a costly camera, hard disk, shoe, certificates, books, clothes, … Why the bottle? It was my dear bottle. 750 ml bottle. Cute and small. I loved it. It was Satish who gave me that bottle. I had carried that bottle around for the last three months across three states, and over 4500 kilometres. And now it is gone.

I was upset. I reached the campus at 7.30 am. There nobody knew how to process a new lecturer. So I had to wait upto 10 am to brush my teeth. I had my bath in the office of the Director! I was assigned an apartment, but no one knew where my flat mate was or what his phone number was. I was homeless and BOTTLELESS! 

Then again, god sent me some of my friends. They took care of me. J Life moves on with blessings scattered among ill feelings and disappointments and lost bottles, like the arid mountains fringed by bushes- fighting with the sun’s fury. 

Now it is three days on campus. I have learned that things do not come easily to anyone here. The system stands tall like a capitalist. And the beneficiaries stick around like bonded labourers  masking insecurity and unhappiness. Still there are genuine smiles among IIIT’ians. Still there are hopes woven into the garment of disappointment. Life goes on without a bottle as well… and I have started liking it already- like my treacherously paradoxical world of sleep.

Sky

Sky - Orient BlackSwan, Hyderabad, 28/06/2012