Between pages.

So, the "End" was more of a word, closer to an illusion. The idea was wrapped in layers of everyday reality. Various reasons were used in different contexts. "No, I wouldn’t", was very convincing. Yet, the "End" always dissolved in random conversations with friends,  in the pretext of everyday news. It was always understood that it would happen with a new beginning.  

The "End" materialized in its own terms, without a new beginning. Almost forced, almost broken away.

The Act

The soul sat watching the body

The body was in an Act, an earthly one

Yet the body felt strange;

The soul refused to participate.

The body was desperate,

But the soul wouldn't budge.

To a pensive body, the soul echoed,

In a distance voice,

Neither of pain nor of sorrow, but distant,

"I flourish only in the wisdom of a heart".

The Berlin Badge

(stumbled across an old writing, from 2 years ago)

She was at a conference for the whole week. It was a difficult time and she was hoping that the travel will be a good change. She was still struggling with the memories. Her friends felt exasperated when she said that it was the picture that she drew about him ... His sparkling eyes ... or was it the toothy smile!! She couldn't simply shove it in the bin. So the moment she met G, the memories flooded back ... causing both excitement and pain! G was younger. Soon into the conference she realized his eyes followed her and well, guess who was hovering around his solar taxi stalls…

****

It was the last night in the city and she left the pub quietly, saying goodbye only to Laurette. It was already late and she had a bad cold. The smokers in the pub almost killed her if not for the vodka. Yet her tipsy-self could reason that it was impossible! She hopped into the first cab; she was not sure if it felt sad, but a strange sense of loss. She hugged herself tight in the cold December darkness.

The next morning, the tram dropped her at at the wrong stop. The bus that brought them to the conference was waiting for her and it was almost time. She had woken up early and had planned to be there on time. Yet she lost her way and like all her travel chaos, this time she lost her map (the map simply fell off her pocket, she swore by the bluest of cheese). Hardly few spoke English and the road names, very long names, as in any place in Eastern Europe, did not make any sense to her. It was biting cold and she was on the verge of tears, but then she ran into a bunch of college students who helped her google-map the place sitting on the pavements! Kindness has no colour or season.

The folks in the bus were so anxious that they broke into a cheer the moment they saw her at the corner of the street, lugging her backpack towards the bus ... She was still gasping in her seat, fiddling at the seal of a bottle of water, when a girl tapped her on her shoulders and asked, “hejjj, are you the Indian?”, and started laughing while a few others joined her in that bus of absolute blond people. “Well”, she added, “somebody wanted me to give this to the Indian heading to ...”

****

They were in a pub after a long day of chaotic climate change discussions. She was explaining to the group how she lost her camera with the pictures from Berlin. “Another whirlwind affair”, she called her Berlin visit and she told them she will go back to walk in those streets again and hop on and off the trams a few more times. It was just a day and half's stopover at Berlin, but the city amazed her. That was when she noticed the badge with the TV Tower pinned to his t-shirt. She simply asked him if she could have it. Without missing a blink he replied, “No, it is a gift”.

****

It was on loan, he mailed later (and never further wrote), to be returned in Berlin.

The Search

You can hop from one tree to another,
Like those monkeys from a palm tree to other,
Or you choose to get off and walk ...
To stop, look up in awe at 'em, those trees,
Big and small - All Majestic;
But some roots may not stand the storms,
I am not a Monkey, I might walk a bit longer.

Dreaming Mirages

I cleaned my board today afternoon
To write a poem of joy, peace and love
Words tumbled down like Leh rushes,
Dreams, hopes and fears, yet cold soothing
I saw clear skies, dark mountains and cheap dinners -
The line left me smiling, cringing my eyes!

The door stood ajar, tender breeze murmuring, “wake up”,
You walked away while I read it loud.

dark chocolate

Life is like you discover dark chocolate, thereafter you dont want to pay for milk chocolates ...

An acquired taste. A taste that strike your senses, a consciousness that tingles the tongue.

It sits on a tiny edge, at the borderline of distaste .. yet you like the bitterness mellowed in the richness of cocoa flavour.

But, bad ones make you trash the whole expensive bar of chocolate .. disappointed in anticipation for the moment of joy. Awful.

Should I spend anymore on them?

Bad Goofy

She put them in a box and held a second before the lid was placed. There were only a few things, and some looked almost new. Well, they were all just a year old … yet she had to cast them away - she had no use of them, she decided. They took too much of space and every time she cleaned around, they would come in her away.

She was still fond of the pretty ones. Others were like abstract art; the meanings changed every time she had a look at them. It somehow brought pain, so did the pretty ones.

Time.

*******

She got back at her desk and started sorting out the work that had been piling up. She sighed, at least that one is put away … waiting to be forgotten.

Time.