Yes !

                       Nishita looked out of the window, far beyond...taking in the vista and a Mona Lisa smile made its appearance on her face. What was it that made her heart beat today with a rhythm it had played years back ? Well not that she was totally euphoric but man there was this 'something' which was enigmatic. O.k. not the time to analyse she said to herself, what the heck ? Enjoy it baby ! She made for the door, collecting her car keys, goggles, purse, cell, house keys,..Uh ! why can't one just leave without all these, she wondered.

                        She reached the party just in time, her friend had arranged, just a get together of familiar friends. Sujay and herself had been long term acquaintances with personalities that clashed rather than match. He was brilliant, could steer any conversation in the direction he wanted to, was witty, quick to roll out facts and figures and sometimes dominated the talks. She contradicted everything he said but of course it was genuinely done. She knew he didn't like it. The Male factor... she would tell herself. He must get a woman boss she would think and then watch the fun. No he would quit the same day, he was like that. God ! how many times they had clashed while talking about women CEO's in the private major financial institutions. Not that she had something against men but she just couldn't stand anyone pointing at the female species. 

                           Yesterday while coming out from the Multiplex, she found him standing besides her and for some strange reason he stood there for a long time, not moving an inch and on top of it, they weren't arguing ! She felt like there was some unknown power that was making her stand there and not move too. Why ? And suddenly a sentence caught her ear and gone was the feeling as she heard him saying things like 'Emotions are silly, one must be logical in approach towards life etc, women are emotionally wired...' But somehow she didn't retort thinking no use in wasting energy to make him 'understand' her species, her kind. At times like these she preferred 'girl's company. How sweet, how reassuring, how comfy it was with them, you didn't have to explain your emotions. It was understood. But why had she felt like that few moments ago? And today at the party, she found him besides her once again. What was going on? Yes ! now she got it. Usually they would be standing opposite and talk or they would be sitting opposite to each other. He still spoke the same things that caught her nerves but stood besides her every time he spoke. Hey ! what's with standing, sitting at sides girl ? O.k. she said, 'Accept it. You like this new arrangement and continue whatever you were up to like before'. She was fiercely independent and liked to have her own space and sometimes felt as if he was intruding ! It was confusing ! She had learnt, 'If you are confused, don't think too much just keep on going, after few days everything gets sorted out without your presence'. Flow was the key. She knew he could be snobbish at times, sometimes he appeared conceited to her, like 'Darcy' in Pride and prejudice perhaps? Oh ! there it was, her favourite classic and things got clear. He possessed some genuine human attributes which hell ! yes did attract her like that day when he helped an elderly lady to fetch a seat in a restaurant or the way he handled her friend's son who was practically yelling. And today when she broke away from the group because she found his presence overwhelming, she felt at peace. She knew he would never do something like 'proposing' or even say the three musical words, because he didn't believe in them, and she was the perfect 'maiden' never to go first, things would be as they are: togetherness in distance...

Yes !

                       Nishita looked out of the window, far beyond...taking in the vista and a Mona Lisa smile made its appearance on her face. What was it that made her heart beat today with a rhythm it had played years back ? Well not that she was totally euphoric but man there was this 'something' which was enigmatic. O.k. not the time to analyse she said to herself, what the heck ? Enjoy it baby ! She made for the door, collecting her car keys, goggles, purse, cell, house keys,..Uh ! why can't one just leave without all these, she wondered.

                        She reached the party just in time, her friend had arranged, just a get together of familiar friends. Sujay and herself had been long term acquaintances with personalities that clashed rather than match. He was brilliant, could steer any conversation in the direction he wanted to, was witty, quick to roll out facts and figures and sometimes dominated the talks. She contradicted everything he said but of course it was genuinely done. She knew he didn't like it. The Male factor... she would tell herself. He must get a woman boss she would think and then watch the fun. No he would quit the same day, he was like that. God ! how many times they had clashed while talking about women CEO's in the private major financial institutions. Not that she had something against men but she just couldn't stand anyone pointing at the female species. 

                           Yesterday while coming out from the Multiplex, she found him standing besides her and for some strange reason he stood there for a long time, not moving an inch and on top of it, they weren't arguing ! She felt like there was some unknown power that was making her stand there and not move too. Why ? And suddenly a sentence caught her ear and gone was the feeling as she heard him saying things like 'Emotions are silly, one must be logical in approach towards life etc, women are emotionally wired...' But somehow she didn't retort thinking no use in wasting energy to make him 'understand' her species, her kind. At times like these she preferred 'girl's company. How sweet, how reassuring, how comfy it was with them, you didn't have to explain your emotions. It was understood. But why had she felt like that few moments ago? And today at the party, she found him besides her once again. What was going on? Yes ! now she got it. Usually they would be standing opposite and talk or they would be sitting opposite to each other. He still spoke the same things that caught her nerves but stood besides her every time he spoke. Hey ! what's with standing, sitting at sides girl ? O.k. she said, 'Accept it. You like this new arrangement and continue whatever you were up to like before'. She was fiercely independent and liked to have her own space and sometimes felt as if he was intruding ! It was confusing ! She had learnt, 'If you are confused, don't think too much just keep on going, after few days everything gets sorted out without your presence'. Flow was the key. She knew he could be snobbish at times, sometimes he appeared conceited to her, like 'Darcy' in Pride and prejudice perhaps? Oh ! there it was, her favourite classic and things got clear. He possessed some genuine human attributes which hell ! yes did attract her like that day when he helped an elderly lady to fetch a seat in a restaurant or the way he handled her friend's son who was practically yelling. And today when she broke away from the group because she found his presence overwhelming, she felt at peace. She knew he would never do something like 'proposing' or even say the three musical words, because he didn't believe in them, and she was the perfect 'maiden' never to go first, things would be as they are: togetherness in distance...

Thoo dhoop hai, cham se bikhar...

                 Strange ! how sometimes you sit at the keyboard and you know there are a plenty things to write about but there's this inner denial which doesn't let the fingers hit the keys. Somehow I have always have had this experience that 'pain', or you call a craving, a deep one at that or an extreme desire or just plain infatuation with just about anything....creates the urge to write... to tap the keys in a flow. Are words then answers to these human abstracts? Going through one of the blogs 'the pakhi series' suddenly brought life to the fingers that had refused to even touch the letters. Thanks to all the bloggers ! Thanks Reema !

                    There was this girl who was two and a half years old, lets call her Mini who was found always crying in the school where I taught. As it was a new school and we were sort of pioneers, acting as teachers, sometimes like moms to the nursery/junior kids, to the extent that we would even carry some 2+ year olds and take for a walk showing trees and stuff like that. The management allowed that ! I was a pseudo princi, my kid being five years old, so didn't take the chair but enjoyed doing whatever it took to run an English Medium CBSE school in a small township. Well this girl would always tag behind some teacher or the other. Once I got an opportunity to go for a proxy to her class and enjoyed playing with the nursery kids, indulging in all sorts of silly imaginations (I taught higher standards but this was sheer fun). Lunch bell rang and all the tiny tots ran towards their 'tiffin'bags and water bottles. Not Mini. So I brought it for her and finding no interest on her part to open it, I opened it to find a stale looking fried rice. No wonder the kid behaved the way she did. In fact I always felt this little one had some psychological hang up and trust me there are a few like that in all the schools and my heart went out for them but what can you do in a 'formal school' where you are expected to only 'teach subjects'. I started a game with Mini after making the other kids to share their lunch boxes with her. She was continuously crying. We brought a doll from the cupboard, and our conversation was something like this:

'Mini this doll is crying baby. Do something. She is sad'

'Ma'm why is she sad?'

'I don't know. She won't tell me. May be she will tell you because you are small like her Mini'.

Surprisingly our Mini stopped crying and what followed was just a pleasure to watch. She put the doll on her lap trying to put her to sleep, sometimes she kept it on her shoulder, moving her hands over the doll's back and like an adult talked to the doll telling her to sleep. I said 'Good the doll likes Mini a lot that's why she's slept'. Mini says,'No ma'm, its not mini, she likes Raju uncle'. I asked her who he was and she replied it was he who put her to sleep or cared for her when she cried because Mamma was in the clinic and Papa in the factory ! How role plays influence children ! Later I found the girl stayed in my street in the corner and she was always with a caretaker, an old lady and from then on whenver Mini met me somewhere in our colony, she would shout and wave. And once even refused to go back to her home.

Thoo dhoop hai, cham se bikhar...

                 Strange ! how sometimes you sit at the keyboard and you know there are a plenty things to write about but there's this inner denial which doesn't let the fingers hit the keys. Somehow I have always have had this experience that 'pain', or you call a craving, a deep one at that or an extreme desire or just plain infatuation with just about anything....creates the urge to write... to tap the keys in a flow. Are words then answers to these human abstracts? Going through one of the blogs 'the pakhi series' suddenly brought life to the fingers that had refused to even touch the letters. Thanks to all the bloggers ! Thanks Reema !

                    There was this girl who was two and a half years old, lets call her Mini who was found always crying in the school where I taught. As it was a new school and we were sort of pioneers, acting as teachers, sometimes like moms to the nursery/junior kids, to the extent that we would even carry some 2+ year olds and take for a walk showing trees and stuff like that. The management allowed that ! I was a pseudo princi, my kid being five years old, so didn't take the chair but enjoyed doing whatever it took to run an English Medium CBSE school in a small township. Well this girl would always tag behind some teacher or the other. Once I got an opportunity to go for a proxy to her class and enjoyed playing with the nursery kids, indulging in all sorts of silly imaginations (I taught higher standards but this was sheer fun). Lunch bell rang and all the tiny tots ran towards their 'tiffin'bags and water bottles. Not Mini. So I brought it for her and finding no interest on her part to open it, I opened it to find a stale looking fried rice. No wonder the kid behaved the way she did. In fact I always felt this little one had some psychological hang up and trust me there are a few like that in all the schools and my heart went out for them but what can you do in a 'formal school' where you are expected to only 'teach subjects'. I started a game with Mini after making the other kids to share their lunch boxes with her. She was continuously crying. We brought a doll from the cupboard, and our conversation was something like this:

'Mini this doll is crying baby. Do something. She is sad'

'Ma'm why is she sad?'

'I don't know. She won't tell me. May be she will tell you because you are small like her Mini'.

Surprisingly our Mini stopped crying and what followed was just a pleasure to watch. She put the doll on her lap trying to put her to sleep, sometimes she kept it on her shoulder, moving her hands over the doll's back and like an adult talked to the doll telling her to sleep. I said 'Good the doll likes Mini a lot that's why she's slept'. Mini says,'No ma'm, its not mini, she likes Raju uncle'. I asked her who he was and she replied it was he who put her to sleep or cared for her when she cried because Mamma was in the clinic and Papa in the factory ! How role plays influence children ! Later I found the girl stayed in my street in the corner and she was always with a caretaker, an old lady and from then on whenver Mini met me somewhere in our colony, she would shout and wave. And once even refused to go back to her home.

The Cell phone

           Call it a blessing (when we use it for our self) or an evil (when someone else uses, in a way that disturbs your being). Instances of the latter kind are many but once while on train, going to Mumbai, there was this girl on her 'cell' talking incessantly about her boyfriend. As it is the season being summer, the coach was packed,  which meant I couldn't risk leaving my place, so was forced to hear all the details which maybe some other time may have sounded interesting but that day was just irritating ! Then there is this girl who stays in the flat one floor below and who comes out on the terrace which's below my window, to talk whenever her cell rings. One day I was reading, sitting near the window, one of my favourite reading corner, when these conversations broke my reverie : 'Ya she was wearing that apple green dress you know....which green?... I said apple green, the one she wears very rarely....ya the one with floral prints in the kurti....no no not that green something like green apple....'. This colour tale went on and on till I almost felt like grabbing her cell and explain to whoever it was on the other side which green this girl meant ! In fact I had forgotten whatever I had been reading and the mind wondered on the female quest to know details about 'colours and prints'. Then on other day I got to hear a full sermon why 'he' was not the right guy for Priya and how our girl had tried her best to convince her and I for once felt tempted to join the Engineering college which this girl attended.

                            One morning while enjoying the breeze on my terrace, out of nowhere came the voice,'mazha maher....ho na....tar kay sangu...nayee me mothi mulgee....mazha bhau... (my mother's place...oh ! what shall I say...no I am the eldest...my brother)' so on and so forth and I got all the information in one shot about the couple whom I had hardly met and who stayed in the flat above me, and whose window was above my terrace. God ! is there some place where I could enjoy privacy ? And the apartment complex where I stay all of a sudden appeared like a chawl. Then there is the lift where a gentleman starts his office right on the cell phone. The bus is another place where once I almost started worrying about the guy's problem at his office as there was nothing else to do as the traffic moved slowly. On another instance, a guy who was telling his boss,'I am on my way sir, am held in a traffic jam sir...' and this went on for about fifteen minutes until I got terribly bored. On top of it, this guy starts talking to me about his boss ! Where does this cell phone mania end ?

The Cell phone

           Call it a blessing (when we use it for our self) or an evil (when someone else uses, in a way that disturbs your being). Instances of the latter kind are many but once while on train, going to Mumbai, there was this girl on her 'cell' talking incessantly about her boyfriend. As it is the season being summer, the coach was packed,  which meant I couldn't risk leaving my place, so was forced to hear all the details which maybe some other time may have sounded interesting but that day was just irritating ! Then there is this girl who stays in the flat one floor below and who comes out on the terrace which's below my window, to talk whenever her cell rings. One day I was reading, sitting near the window, one of my favourite reading corner, when these conversations broke my reverie : 'Ya she was wearing that apple green dress you know....which green?... I said apple green, the one she wears very rarely....ya the one with floral prints in the kurti....no no not that green something like green apple....'. This colour tale went on and on till I almost felt like grabbing her cell and explain to whoever it was on the other side which green this girl meant ! In fact I had forgotten whatever I had been reading and the mind wondered on the female quest to know details about 'colours and prints'. Then on other day I got to hear a full sermon why 'he' was not the right guy for Priya and how our girl had tried her best to convince her and I for once felt tempted to join the Engineering college which this girl attended.

                            One morning while enjoying the breeze on my terrace, out of nowhere came the voice,'mazha maher....ho na....tar kay sangu...nayee me mothi mulgee....mazha bhau... (my mother's place...oh ! what shall I say...no I am the eldest...my brother)' so on and so forth and I got all the information in one shot about the couple whom I had hardly met and who stayed in the flat above me, and whose window was above my terrace. God ! is there some place where I could enjoy privacy ? And the apartment complex where I stay all of a sudden appeared like a chawl. Then there is the lift where a gentleman starts his office right on the cell phone. The bus is another place where once I almost started worrying about the guy's problem at his office as there was nothing else to do as the traffic moved slowly. On another instance, a guy who was telling his boss,'I am on my way sir, am held in a traffic jam sir...' and this went on for about fifteen minutes until I got terribly bored. On top of it, this guy starts talking to me about his boss ! Where does this cell phone mania end ?

Introspection

               After a not so hectic but you could call it a busy day yesterday, I woke up today morning after a deep slumber. But there was chaos in mind somehow when I opened my eyes. What happens to the mind during night, when it sleeps or rather the body sleeps ? The mind must be like the mother who puts/orders her kids (organs) to sleep (slow down). The cells doing their activities slowly/rythmically, the brain cells included. O.k. but the point is why does the 'well slept mind' like a switch switched off or something for 6-8 hours, start buzzing with all the previous day's/months ? thoughts ? Ugh ! I just didn't want all that processing today morning especially after a  sound baby sleep. The thoughts, all randomly strewn were like the dancing figures in 'Tare zameen par'. What is a tranquil mind like I thought? The word tranquil is good, sort of soothing. Can the mind go 'word blank' ? 'thought blank' ? like an empty apartment, after each night and don an entirely different 'thought attire' that's new, fresh and moving, 'in the zone' ? Swami Vivekananda's peaceful face comes to the picture, meditating on the rock amidst the oceanly furore. Silence is delicious too. Utmost calm....like the few seconds halt between notes of music that creates the rhythm. 

                         At times I want to be like that, sitting on the rock, like him. But then his quest was different, for the whole mankind. Mine ? for myself ? How selfish ? And how puny ? A bigger quest, bigger the solution like what made him sit in between the three seas to meditate. Hmm ! here I am wanting a solution 'big/huge' like his, but do I want the same problems which he had ? I like Vivekananda. He was a regular guy like us i.e. had formal education, so thought like us mere mortals too. And his search was no different from ours. I wish we who share his homeland will be able to give to the west what he gave. The East is richer in things that the West doesn't have, never had. I have always felt the need to do in any minuscule way like what Vivekanand did. Am waiting...