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Showing posts with label Vasundhara. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vasundhara. Show all posts

Just An Hour More

By Vasundhra Goyal

Flight to Houston via Chicago was an hour late. 
“Off all the places in United States, why did you choose Houston?”
Riya wasn’t trying to reason out with Avin as to why he only had got to go to Houston and not Chicago or New York or Boston. As it became evident, he would be going abroad, be it any place, far away from India. How does it even matter? She just wanted to break the silence that had become a part of their meetings in past five years. Living without Avin was something she was not ready to accept.

9:45 PM 
Mumbai Airport was stuffed with people, waiting for their flights. Hardly anyone had time to notice a young girl and a guy who must have been there for almost half an hour, sitting silently without uttering a word. Who knew what was going at the back of their heads. 
“My aunt lives in Houston. Though I will be staying in hostel, but I guess it will be good to have someone from my family around.” 

It was the first time Avin and Riya were alone without anyone else tagging along. Avin’s best buddy Rishab was teased as his gay lover when they were in school. Fortunately, Rishab wasn’t there in Mumbai that day. Avin had already met him in Bangalore when he went back to his college to get his transcript.

Photo credit - Anoop Nagendra
Riya recalled the day Avin came back from Bangalore. He had called her that day.

“Hey! ‘ssup? Still lost in my dreams?”


“Shut up! I am busy. I have joined Dad’s office, been working for a month.”

“Nice. Continue like that till you get hitched to a nice Punjabi Munda. Did someone approach you till date?”

“No. Not yet. And I am in no hurry.”

“Awww! Poor Riya. You will die a virgin I guess.”

“Please! I don’t want to end up getting HIV positive. Seriously, how many did you sleep with? You must have developed AIDS by now. Did you get your blood report recently?” Riya teased.

“Ever heard of a thing as CONDOM? I have got plenty. Get one from me if ever you happen to need it. My bribe in return will be, name of the guy, time, place along with details of what happened.”

“Get lost, you pervert. Gross. Sick. But seriously, how many have you slept with?”

“I have lost count, you know. But you don’t need to be jealous. You will get better than me.”

“Who told you I was jealous? Trust me, I have better options.”

“Awww. Can’t get enough of me, can you?”

“Even in worst case, I would rather end up with a girl than getting involved with you.”

“Okay, I got it. Oh! By the way, Rishab called. He said he is missing you.”

“Fuck Rishab. Tell me one girl he doesn’t miss?”

“I know one, you. But this time he genuinely seemed to be missing you. By the way, who is this Ambar chick? He was talking a lot about her.”

“She is one of my friends from college. And now I know exactly why he has been missing me. Creep.”

“To ab agar tumhara meri maarne ka quota pura hogaya ho to main jaun? Just came home, need a bath.”

“OoooooHhhhhh! I can just imagine you without shirt. I wish 3G was more common.”

“Now look who’s a pervert. Seriously girl, give your hormones a break. Get back to your work.”

“Yeah! Yeah! Bye.”

“Bubye.”

Those memories of the past were disturbing her all the more. It was silent outside, but something was screaming inside her.

10:15 PM 
Half an hour more, still too many people around. And they both hear a voice. “Oh my Romeo! I shall miss thy dick, penetrating the insides of my anus, Thy rosy tongue, moving all over my nipples.”

Riya immediately recognizes the familiar voice “Shut the fuck up Rishab.” For the first time, she was glad Rishab was there.

“Awww! We missed you so much.” Just as Riya was about to hug him, Avin pushed her away and grabbed Rishab pretending to be teary eyed. Rishab was crushed in Avin’s tight embrace. Avin loosened his grip, still pretending to be teary eyed, “My Juliet! Thy kiss, I shall always remember in my soul. Thy touch, as soft as a butterfly, thy...”

Riya interrupts, “Oh cut the crap. Seriously! You two have taken this Gay business quite convincingly.”

They could almost imagine themselves back in school times when Rishab had been desperate to kiss Avin for the 500 bucks offered to him by a guy who came in their van. There was a time when the news had spread like fire that Avin and Rishab were possibly gay couples. Rishab and Avin had nearly ended their friendship because of that when they ultimately thought “screw people, who cares even if we are gay, let them assume so if they want to.”

“How did you reach here? I thought you were in Bangalore.” Avin was pumping with joy. He never expected Rishab to be there to see him off.

“I just got here. I caught the evening flight. I was afraid I would miss you.”

“That, you would anyhow.”

“Chal na. I have a lot of chicks around to make me forget my grief.” Rishab winked and turned to Riya, “Oh by the way how is Ambar?”

“Rishab! Leave her alone. You are not worth her.”

“Ha ha! Big deal. Just give me her no.”

“No I won’t!”

Avin snaps, ”See, if you don’t want us to have any wrong intentions for you, you should probably fix us with some of your hot female friends.”

“You better watch out for your firangi females. Those desi girls are just for me.” Avin and Rishab started fighting again like they used to in school.

Flight 847 for Chicago is ready for is passengers. Passengers of flight 847 kindly proceed to gate no. 2.

“Time to go”, Avin looked demented.

“Have a safe journey bro. Will miss you.” Avin and Rishab hugged each other. He looked at Riya for a second and then hugged her tightly. This was the first time they hugged each other and probably the last time. Riya controlled the sudden outburst of emotions that broke inside by the warmth of his embrace. “Cheer up fatso. I will stay in touch. 2 years atmost and then I will be back.”

“I know more about people who go abroad to expect you back in 2 years. Seriously! I am fine. Enjoy your life there. Make the best of this opportunity.”

Avin waved Goodbye to his friends and proceeded for immigrations.

Rishab got the opportunity to talk to Riya alone.

“So, did you say anything?”

“Say what?”

“Oh, come on. Anyone could have guessed that. You are madly in love with him, aren’t you?”

Riya didn’t know what to say...

“You thought I wouldn’t notice. All this time, I knew what you felt for him. It’s just that you lacked the confidence to express yourself. If only I knew you would be as dumb as not to say it even at the last few minutes, I would have disclosed that to him myself. Why do you think I came here on time?”


Riya was welling with emotions. Tears rolled down and she felt helpless. What if he doesn’t want her? What if he still loved his ex-girlfriend? Her worst fear was rejection from her best friend and losing a hope to be with him someday.

Avin boarded the flight. He could picture his life in America. It was gonna be an all new experience for him. His life was going to take a 360 degree turn.

He got up to check his belongings. Something was missing and he couldn’t figure out what. He knew he was forgetting something. He checked his bag again and found a music CD of Mandy Moore songs given to him by Riya. He wondered how it came there. It must have been there for a long time, and the day he decided to take that bag along with him, he must have forgotten to take it out with the other stuff from that bag.

As if a lightning struck him that very moment and he instantly knew what was missing. Tears rolled down his cheeks...

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Vasundhara Goyal
I eat when I am bored and I live by the quotes that explain exactly what I am going through. I fancy reading Archie comics for the love of my favourite character Jughead Jones and I tend to get attracted to guys with a persona like him. I am a loner and at times I search for lonely spots where I can just sit and daydream.

Love Actually


By Vasundhara Goyal

In blues went my days
Sitting on a platform
To see him step out, my heart stays

Slipping my hands in my rucksack
Memories of the past reborn
Of the glimpse of flashback

Here comes the most awaited
The whistle of my life
I fear though expressing, the ghost revisited

To my shock I saw him cry
Fell too low, I was wrong
He was not so dry


Hugging me he said
"I missed you"
His eyes were red

I waited single, I am old
Love him still deep.
He hailed single, his heart was sold

He said "I love you
Sorry I did not say
Till the time I could distant view"

Now we stay so close
His presence is my reason to be
Life ahead no one knows
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Vasundhara Goyal
I eat when I am bored and I live by the quotes that explain exactly what I am going through. I fancy reading Archie comics for the love of my favourite character Jughead Jones and I tend to get attracted to guys with a persona like him. I am a loner and at times I search for lonely spots where I can just sit and daydream.

Dignity Of Choice

Conformity vs. Individualism
By Vasundhara Goyal

“Instead of punishing the criminal, we often end up blaming the victim. What was she wearing? Was she drinking? Did she ask for it?” - Slutwalk, Ottawa

“If a rape victim is blamed for wearing revealing clothes, will a blast victim be blamed for not wearing a bullet proof vest?” - Besharmi Morcha, Kolkata

The first slutwalk in Canada was just an aftermath of the rage ignited by a police official who claimed that women get raped because of their slutty outfit. This march was one way of women counterclaiming, “I should have the dignity to choose what I wear without being judged or victimized for my choices.”

I live in a world where I get judgments from everyone around me on the way I dress, friends I make, people I talk to and the views I carry. People bug you with clichéd statements like ‘get a hold of your life’, ‘be the master of circumstances’, ‘one man’s army’ with a pinch of ‘you should have the sense to make the right choices in life’. And who decides what is right and what is wrong? Society?

Our constitution provides us with right to education, equality, freedom. I guess these rights need a more detailed sub categorization. There are certain rights an individual deserves as a Human Being.


Dignity to choose what I wear
I should not suffer for my choices to wear what I feel, defines me. I am an individual and I choose my individuality over conformity with the society. I should not be judged, molested, raped or harassed, because I choose to dress like this. I should not be stereotyped as a slut or adulterated, over my wardrobe.

 
Dignity to choose my career
I should not suffer for my choice of job. My choice to work in a night club or as an escort doesn’t mean I can be treated like a platter or be an object of brutality. My job doesn’t define my character. I am as good a citizen of this country as a House Wife or a School Teacher and I deserve equal rights. 


Dignity to choose my partner I should not suffer for my choice of partner. Whom I choose to marry is my personal choice, society doesn’t have a say in it. Society also shouldn’t be concerned with whom I sleep; my sexuality is none of their business.

Dignity to choose my lifestyle I should not suffer for the way I live. I may be married or in a live in relationship. I may drink in pubs or may not. I may celebrate Valentine’s Day/ Friendship’s Day with a guy/girl or may choose to celebrate Diwali and Holi. I am free to choose which culture to follow. I should not be beaten up or forced to marry or tie a Rakhi to someone I chose to spend my day with. I should not be dragged out of pubs, beaten up because I am a girl and the society feels that girls should be put behind veils to prevent infidelity.

All I want is the dignity to choose without having to face rebuke or animosity from society. Low minded and baseless social stigma has no place in a progressive democratic society.

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Vasundhara Goyal
I eat when I am bored and I live by the quotes that explain exactly what I am going through. I fancy reading Archie comics for the love of my favourite character Jughead Jones and I tend to get attracted to guys with a persona like him. I am a loner and at times I search for lonely spots where I can just sit and daydream.

The Perfect Day


By Vasundhara Goyal

Spending four long years in a hostel makes it difficult to sleep at night on time, a virtual jet-lag develops that doesn’t allow you to get up early and attend the morning call before going to office. Perfect! Just what you need on the first day of work- getting face to face with the phrase, shitting in your pants.


That day, it rained as if it was the first and last rainfall of the season. When you are used to bunking classes with the lamest excuses of “avoiding rain” and “difficult to drive in rain”, you end up wondering how the staff of your new office managed to reach on time when you are precisely 20 minutes late. So what? What’s the big deal? It’s an office, not a school, only till you come to know that your boss was raised by a school principal. Perfect! Just who you want your boss to be - a chemical composition of Amrish Puri and K.K.Menon.

I knew I was getting a zero in my salaried account for the blunder. We know it as education, they call it spoon feeding. On job training is just not that. I got an assignment. I had to arrange for the best quality instrument at the best price. How? I didn’t know. I searched for suppliers on the internet and called one of them, introduced myself as the employee of ..so and so.. company. “You again. Stop calling and wasting my precious time when you are not interested in buying”, out came the reply. I am sparing the swear words. Perfect! Just what you ask for a job to be - a ghost protocol, no backup no support.

Obviously there were so many other suppliers, but I was reluctant to call now. My mission was to find out who was looking after the “ghost protocol” before me. Unlike Ethan Hunt, I didn’t have a team, so the risk factor was entirely mine. I came to know that the guy had already called all the numbers available on that list and I was back to square one. All the other blunders were nothing with respect to the above mentioned. Spilling the coffee on my white shirt, accidentally entering the men’s locker, falling from chair while stretching and yawning at the same time and combing hair in front of a mirror which was actually a one way glass that opened to the Chairman’s Cabin (who was luckily not there at that instant), were just a manifestation of my USP which I never mentioned in any CV.

Spinning on my chair for two long hours, I came across a website with the best priced instrument. I got an approval for purchase of that instrument and now all I had to do was to convince the person to give a discount and quote the price at 2% tax. I thought it was the simplest task, but I didn’t know there was a difference between bargaining with a store keeper and winning a deal with a proprietor. I had to ask for a rollback from a madrasi who didn’t know English and refused to speak Hindi. Wow! What luck?

The day ended and nothing came in hand. I got out of the building only to find the city, still getting drenched. The roads were in worst condition and by the time I reached my place, my jeans were all wet and muddy. I took a bath and had my dinner watching Rocket Singh that I had got from a friend. All I did was to empathize with the guy when I dozed off in no time. I woke up early morning 2 hours before office time, feeling fresh and relaxed. I kept lying on my bed for some time, wondering; maybe it wasn’t such a bad day after all.

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Vasundhara Goyal

I eat when I am bored and I live by the quotes that explain exactly what I am going through. I fancy reading Archie comics for the love of my favourite character Jughead Jones and I tend to get attracted to guys with a persona like him. I am a loner and at times I search for lonely spots where I can just sit and daydream.

I Mess You Life


By Vasundhara Goyal

Is it politically incorrect for someone (specifically a girl) to use abusive language for friends and then pick on the other ones on her facebook wall? I hope not. I live in times when sharing of a sophisticated relationship is only with enemies and fair-weather friends. I cannot hug my girlfriend and say, "OMG!!! Sweetu I missed you. You look stunning today." Even if I did miss her, I would rather drag her by the collar, smell her and say, "Bitch!!! Did you even take a bath?" My facebook wall is for my friends and not someone who reads each and every post of mine and then start scrutinizing me as if the next thing I am going to do is upload a nude picture of mine. Life isn't hard, but people around you try hard to make it just that. I came to a halt before unfriending my friend's Mom. Maybe this was not such a good idea for my well cultured and sophisticated image on her. Ask me, do I even care? Yes and no. My facebook interactions with people I know are not very charming and even though I will be portrayed as a stud to anyone who sees my wall and read my posts, I am a freaking nobody fattu in reality who is still trying to get over her fears (OK!! I agree I don't try, I just run away from them).

Photo credit - Chinmay Maheshwari
I have some wild ideas of living my life and I hate to say that every time I come up with some exciting stuff, my character certificate witnesses another fall of the graph. I see people working hard to be someone in life and I feel like shooting myself for lacking an ambition in mine. I might just end up working at a pizza place, thinking life can't be better than this even if the only good thing about it would be the thick crust double cheese burst Marguerite (I am not sure about the spelling) pizza with oregano and chili flakes. My ever low self-esteem and my laid back attitude drives my growth as an individual. I still depend on my parents for a lot of things and even though they bear with my tantrums and my occasional outbursts, I am sure I will be led by them to my final destination before I can even say "help".

I decided I would choose the best option for me available after B.Tech till the time I realized, probably this is something I will be doing my entire life and if I erred now, I would be lost forever. My ideas lack the initiation to get implemented, my concepts lack the courage to read on paper, my experience and my confidence lags behind my age. I suffer from what you call the Quarter Life Crisis, but if everything goes as not so planned, by the time I complete my silver jubilee, I hope I would still settle down with some reasonably good memories even if it is from working at a pizza place and feeding on a thick crust double cheese burst Marguerite pizza with oregano and chili flakes.

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Vasundhara Goyal
I eat when I am bored and I live by the quotes that explain exactly what I am going through. I fancy reading Archie comics for the love of my favourite character Jughead Jones and I tend to get attracted to guys with a persona like him. I am a loner and at times I search for lonely spots where I can just sit and daydream.

Ugly Duckling Improvised


By Vasundhra Goyal

All my fatty childhood, I was boosted up by the story of ugly duckling that was ugly and repulsive primarily but grew up to be the best looking swan and lived happily ever after.

Here's how it really happens.

The Ugly Duckling let’s say a ‘she’ is ugly and fat trying to hide her inferiorities by being nerdy, always hiding behind books. The better looking ducklings avoid the ugly duckling or befriend her only to make fun of her, thinking she is dumb and wouldn't notice.
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Life is unfair and boring until it so happens that the ugly duckling falls for the most desirable and handsome male duckling of the clan. He is smart and always surrounded by the little female ducklings of the clan. He doesn't even know if she exists, until one night both of them accidentally cross each other’s path. They discover they have some common interests and immediately become good friends. Time passes and the handsome duckling falls in and out of relationships while the ugly duckling is still striving to express her love. Their friendship grows with age and the male duckling turn into a good looking swan while the ugly duckling is now an ugly fat swan. The ugly swan is happy with her friendship till she starts getting mocked by other male swans for her ugliness. She, in order to prove herself to the mockers and her crush, starts gyming and following GM Diet and turns into a beautiful swan in a matter of time. The beautiful swan is now surrounded by a lot of male swans who want to get involved with her. The (main lead) male swan, has matured and is in a serious relationship with unfortunately not the ugly duckling (now a beautiful swan), but another beautiful swan. In the meanwhile, previous-ugly-now-beautiful-swan gathers courage and confidence to propose to the male swan. Before she can, she discovers that the male swan has been dumped and is heartbroken and out of this whole relationship concept. She realizes that the male swan needs a friend more than a girl friend and she decides to be always there for him, support him, and make him forget his pain.

And they remain friends, ever after for life.

Moral of the story: Once a friend, always a friend. So, fuck your looks and get out of the friend zone as soon as possible before you end up writing Ugly Duckling Re-improvised.

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Vasundhara Goyal
I eat when I am bored and I live by the quotes that explain exactly what I am going through. I fancy reading Archie comics for the love of my favourite character Jughead Jones and I tend to get attracted to guys with a persona like him. I am a loner and at times I search for lonely spots where I can just sit and daydream.

The Shruti Box


Here I am on a cold winter after noon, thinking about some of the interesting encounters of 2011. The ShrutiBox, an online music album, didn’t make breaking news but it flashed on the Facebook feed rather expeditiously, that is, until three weeks back when the “Kolaveri” virus hit the net! The ShrutiBox is a fusion composition by Shankar Tucker, an American clarinettist and music composer. The album was first released on social media platforms like YouTube and SoundCloud. 

Shankar grew up in Massachusetts. Unlike others of his generation who drifted to the beats of Nirvana, Madonna and Usher, Shankar was drawn towards Indian classical music, his ideal being maestro John McLaughlin who is famous for composing Indian and Western classical fusions. Tucker was induced towards learning Carnatic music after listening to “Remember Shakti”, a unique composition by McLaughlin (Strings) and featuring Zakir Hussain (table), V Selvaganesh (percussion) and U Shrinivas (mandolin). 
About Shankar Tucker.  While his mastery over the clarinet can’t be doubted....he also magnificently blends the essence of jazz, pop and Indian classical music to create seamless fusion. I know this sounds a bit melodramatic. Most of his videos crossed one million views over the last 6 months, though not all comments were alluring. Before I started writing this article, I was under the impression that the guy who sings in “O re piya” video was Shankar Tucker. The confusion resolved after I Googled him and found that the one behind the clarinet is actually our protagonist. It all fits, the guy named Shankar (a Hindu mythological name) who fuses Indian music with jazz should happen to be a firangi desi rang me. It mesmerizes me to think someone linguistically alien, should share the same platform as the legendary artists Zakir Hussein and Hariprasad Chaurasia.  

If you think there cannot be anything as captivating as the Oscar winner AR Rahman’s anthem from “Slumdog Millionaire”, catch “O Saya (A.R.Rehman cover) ft. Shankar Tucker” on YouTube. 


Unlike conventionally released compositions, The Shruti Box is an online going music album. Shankar, a musical prodigy, when his career has barely taken flight, claims not to make music that must sell. A blend of fresh Carnatic fusion - vocals by the Iyer sisters with the highlight from the melodist’s clarinet left me in crisis of adjectives, as I spent half an hour repeatedly listening to the “Nee Nenaindal” video. Refined and perfected, lilting and rising sounds of his clarinet in his signature style can even beat the pulses of a heart; such is the soul of his original composition- “Lemongrass”. A treat to anyone who appreciates classical music is his deft rearrangement of classical Bandish of Raga Bimpalassi in the vocals of Nirali Kartik’s- “Ja Ja Re”. 


This whole article might look a bit aggrandized and amplified to some who are in the critics’ stage of persona or to the Jagjit Singh or Pundit Jasraaj fan followers, who are grumpy over the lyrical and pronunciation aberrations in the videos. If I could understand my culture and musical heritage half as well as Tucker does, I would have been in a better position to savour the taste of his ethnic brew.

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Vasundhara Goyal
I eat when I am bored and I live by the quotes that explain exactly what I am going through. I fancy reading Archie comics for the love of my favourite character Jughead Jones and I tend to get attracted to guys with a persona like him. I am a loner and at times I search for lonely spots where I can just sit and daydream.

Madness Behind The Brand SRK



October 13, 11:00 am - Finished with my mid-sem and proceeding towards my Scooty, I heard a gang of first years shouting, “SHAHRUKH KHAN is coming to DB Mall.” Blimey!! I thought, isn’t he like, 45 years old now? Why is everybody raving about somebody who is more likely to adopt them than marry them? It’s not like this was the first time a film-star was coming to Bhopal, not after Prakash Jha’s Rajneeti and Aarakshan, no Sir! Overlooking our misgivings, my friends and I decided to be a part of the mass hysteria and we reached the venue by 11:30.


“No entry without passes”, one of the Black Cat security personnel confirmed. We tried calling people who could get us some, but with no such luck. They were either unavailable or busy. An hour passed, and only two of us were left now. The others went home, vexed by the heat and the trickling sweat.  Reluctant to go before Shahrukh’s arrival, we sat down in the middle of the road, while the onlookers passed us, commenting on our present state. “Anything for Shahrukh” was the attitude we carried throughout the euphoria and jubilation. Time crawled and barely half an hour was up when the security officials had taken charge of the crowd. People were running in our direction, followed by guards brandishing lathis. Panic-stricken, we hid ourselves among a group of women not wanting to be victimized by the raining stones. The chaos died down and brought us back to our senses and we decided to let go of the SRK craze. There were better things to do in life than getting crushed in a stampede.


1:30 pm - we went to relax inside a cafeteria packed with the SRK fans. The lone LCD in there was constantly showing songs from his movies and Ra.One previews. Ignoring the loudspeaker could not make us ignore the fact that the public here was present for King Khan only and continually talked about him and the promos. We decided to become a part of the crowd again. He had already arrived by then and we were dying to get a glimpse of him, even at a distance of 1000 feet from the balcony of the Mall. After 3 more hours of waiting and ducking the lathis and stones, somebody coming out of the Mall told us that SRK already left!


Still not in mood to go back home after 7 hours of waiting and 7 missed calls from home; we waited for the crowd to disperse when it suddenly roared madly again.


YES!!! IT WAS SRK ON THE BALCONY!!!


No kidding, 7 proved to be the magic number! For the first time in my life, I saw a film star, even though it was from a distance, and that too SHAHRUKH KHAN! 15 minutes, he stood there trying to please each and every person in that gathering, sometimes dancing, at times giving his signature pose, waving at the crowd in every direction possible. We were not less than 200 meters away from him and my friend had already started waving at him like a maniac. I saw what she was doing and as I focused my attention back on him, I saw him return the gesture. For a moment I couldn’t believe what had happened. 


“HE ACTUALLY WAVED AT US. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

Those 15 minutes washed away all the fatigue of waiting wearily to get just one glimpse of him. I didn’t get any sleep that night until I wrote this down and narrated this incident to almost every single friend of mine who was an SRK fan. The insanity for the name SRK proves the very statement made by Shahrukh Khan himself, “I am not Shahrukh Khan; rather I work for the brand Shahrukh Khan.” Best wishes for Don 2. 


P.S. I am going to watch it first day first show.      

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Vasundhara Goyal
I eat when I am bored and I live by the quotes that explain exactly what I am going through. I fancy reading Archie comics for the love of my favourite character Jughead Jones and I tend to get attracted to guys with a persona like him. I am a loner and at times I search for lonely spots where I can just sit and daydream.

If Only I Could Turn Back Time



The coffee shop was not so crowded on the eve of Dussehra. Only a few people, who probably were not much into the festive frenzy, were seen relaxing over coffee and sandwiches. I would hang-out here with my mates when I was in college. The fumes emanating from that hot coffee had that same aroma which brought back reminiscences of the myriad times I came here with friends, and sometimes, a special friend who had a special place in my heart. It had some very heartbreaking memories of the past, but right now I just wanted to feel the blues of a nostalgic expedition that had always had a happy ending. 

Three years is not so long a time span, but it seemed as if things the way I knew them were gone. Only spirits of the forgotten were left to roam around, not realizing that Time has moved on while they were still stuck in the past. I sat there with my caffeinated drink, trying to feel the pleasure of being back in a city which wasn’t exactly my home but home to the education of my life. I could hear the BOOMs and BLASTs of the Raavan burning outside. The commotion was deafening with slogans of “JAI SHRI RAM” and “SIYA PATI RAM CHANDRA KI JAI” being raised. I had a sudden recollection of my roomies running to the DUSSHERA MAIDAN on this day, just to get a glimpse of the city girls.

I was here to meet her; knowing that this was the only time her father won’t have a problem with her staying out late at night. The Raavan was burnt at dusk and it took some time to find one’s way out from the confluence. The uproar from outside became more intense when the coffee shop door swung open to let in a family - a couple with a kid wearing a Hanuman mask and carrying a mace in his right hand. I could easily guess they were coming from RAMLILA MAIDAN and following them, came a cluster of people who occupied the entire coffee shop within seconds. Even through the swell of the crowd, my eyes centred on that couple and their kid.

Yes, that was her. So much had changed since the last time I set my eyes on her, three years back. She saw me and shied away. From the look in her eyes, I could see her, in a distant memory, lost in the cacophony which we used to create as a team, those copious times I had looked into her eyes to assure her that I was always there for her. I looked into her eyes yet again and smiled to relieve her of that guilt stemming from betrayal. No, that was not betrayal. We both played into the hands of Time and Fate. 

My coffee was cold now. I waited till all was quiet; everyone had gone by then, putting my hands in my rucksack, I pulled out a photo of both of us, clicked at the college festival, holding the trophy won at the debate competition. I gathered all my memories once again and moved towards the door and there she was, standing across the road, waiting. I took small steps, taking as much time as I could, to delay what came next.

We didn’t speak a word, yet a lot was said. I gave her the photo. She took it and looked at it. I could see her eyes welling with tears, which gave expression to my emotions as well. I just couldn’t...I had my limitations, and she was married. Then, betraying my bravado, I hugged her and kissed on her forehead. It had to end there for we were on different roads; she got the life that she wanted now, so I released my passion unto the heavens.

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Vasundhara Goyal
I eat when I am bored and I live by the quotes that explain exactly what I am going through. I fancy reading Archie comics for the love of my favourite character Jughead Jones and I tend to get attracted to guys with a persona like him. I am a loner and at times I search for lonely spots where I can just sit and daydream.


 

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