man ki bhadaas

The Window

Shobhit Dabral — Tue, 13 Nov 2007 03:48:16 +0000

This one’s for Gaurav (yeh khayaal achha tha… )

…

She opened the window again, and parted the curtains. And there he stood majestically, looking down on me as if I were a shame. The wind blowing across his face making him appear to look away from me in disdain as I watched him in awe. Oh! How I wished the winds were blowing towards me, so I could get a whiff of his scent; maybe even a leaf off him.

I had always wanted to reach across the window. I had tried. With every fragment of my being, I had stretched an arm and nearly gotten half way there, when it was chopped off to maintain symmetry and keep me looking ‘beautiful’. There was no beauty in being rooted to confinement. They didn’t understand that. But he did. He was the same as me; only free. And even though we were highly identical, that was all there was common between us. It made me miserable.

I itched forever to reach out of the glass tray and feel the wind on me. I wanted to see the stars that lit him at night, to bask in the moonlight, to feel the rain wash me and not be watered at my feet alone.

While he enjoyed the magnificence of being the banyan, it wasn’t that I had chosen to be a bonsai.

I Did

Shobhit Dabral — Wed, 26 Sep 2007 22:04:14 +0000

I smiled, I did… and I laughed out aloud

And tried to become another face in the crowd

I laughed in joy as I laughed in sorrow

And I laughed my gut out like there was no tomorrow

But I’m saving the last smile for the day you’ll come back

I cried, I did… and I wept like mad

A grown up man, with all he had

I cried in bliss as I cried in pain

And I cried out my bloody heart in vain

But I’m saving the last tear for the day you’ll come back

I breathed, I did… and I lived forever

And I know it’s time… it’s now or never

I breathe easy as I breathe deep

Realising well, my life ain’t to keep

But I’m saving the last breath for the day you’ll come back

So many days since last night

Shobhit Dabral — Fri, 24 Aug 2007 02:32:22 +0000

It’s been so many days since last night. My fingers entwined in the soft, long hair cascading onto my arms. The soft light tracing the outline of the face. The silken skin glowing to light up my eyes. The slow, rhythmic rise and fall of the bosom with easy, deep breathing; every breath caressing my shoulder with moist warmth. The look in the eyes as they opened momentarily, saying “I’m glad you are here”. The deep sigh that escaped as the eyes closed again; the ends of the lips curling up into a faint, content smile. The cuddling up into the surety of my grasp.

The sun is burning my heart and wearing me down with the relentless, scorching heat. The dry winds soaking away my soul. A constant battle waging between the silent seas that I dwell in, as calm as death, and the blood rushing through my veins, as restless as life. I am aging, like a weathered rock at the top of an ageless, unyielding mountain, as I wait endlessly for night to fall again. It’s been so many days since last night.

She Didn’t Love Him

Shobhit Dabral — Mon, 20 Aug 2007 19:44:09 +0000

Oh! What would he do without her? He had none else who’d understand. They’d never understand… they’d never understood. And he’d never open up to anyone like he did to her. Would he? He couldn’t… that’s what made it special between them. No, no he possibly couldn’t. But what was she to do? It was getting out of hand. He wanted her to be around forever. She couldn’t do that. Besides, it would’ve had to end one day. She didn’t love him.

He was just acting… putting up a show, that he was fine. He couldn’t be fine. How could he? He didn’t have her anymore. And she was all he had. She was sure of that. He’d made her sure. Then why did he not look troubled? Why did it seem like he was at peace? Why did it seem like he could possibly move on, when it was most certain it got over because of her? She wasn’t to blame of course, but he still must’ve blamed her, to ease off his pain, if for no other reason. “Ease off his pain” she’d think, “he’s doing a nice job hiding it”. Not from her though, could he? But she wasn’t really bothered. It wasn’t like she loved him.

So she walked an extra mile everyday, to walk past his home… just to peep inside his window and watch him sleep. Poor man, the day’s work must’ve drained him. Or how else would he manage to sleep? The pain of her parting was evident in the wry smile on his face. It had had to be the work. Poor man. If only he’d got her love.

“I still love you” he’d say “may you find peace with the one you love”. “Oh! Bollocks!” she’d think, “I’m sure the poor bastard’s swearing at me in his head”. Yet whenever she felt lonely, or sad, or unhappy, it was always him she thought about… of how he’d make her feel special… of how he didn’t need to make an effort to make her feel special. Strangely, though, she often wondered why she almost wanted him to hate her. They’d say it was because she wanted to ease it for herself. They were crazy. It was he who needed easing off… not her… he was the one in love. She never loved him.

And now she was in this prison without bars… the one she’d always wanted to be in. Where there was everything anyone could ever want. And it made her uncomfortable. She longed to see him… he came to visit sometimes. And when he did, she felt like clinging on to him and pleading him to take her away from there… but she couldn’t do that… it just wasn’t right. She couldn’t call out to him for help or for refuge, lest he’d think she loved him. She wouldn’t want that. It would ruin him. Poor man… she didn’t love him.

THANK YOU GOD

Shobhit Dabral — Mon, 19 Mar 2007 21:07:01 +0000

I have been asking for too much, haven’t I? And complaining on not getting it right away; and not half the times you’ve given me mine have I thanked you with the honesty that I claim with. So I thank you God that I am a mere mortal who knows not what it is to give.

I thank you for all the pain I have, without which I would know not pleasure. So also do I thank you for all the darkness around that I can use to find light. I thank you for the rainy day, the being of which makes the sunshine warm; and for the violent sea that rocks my boat for it makes my house feel like home.

Thank you God for all the ignominy I have been through, for it made me a better man every time. Thank you for all the prayers I thought went un-answered, that reminded me of praying for others. Thank you also for the prayer I read today for someone I haven’t met or seen – it made me want to cry and I remembered how long I haven’t cried for now.

I want to cry, dear God, for all the times that I did not. Why can’t I cry? Why are there no tears? Why, instead of crying out, do I bleed on the inside as much? I’m in pain, and I thank you for letting me know the importance of tears. Help me with some, let me cry too, and I shall forever more be thankful to you.

LOVE AND MARRIAGE

Shobhit Dabral — Sun, 03 Sep 2006 10:43:56 +0000

Ok. I really like this one, and i like telling it panchatantra style!

It’s about an old woman and her grandson (who’s a young man now) who get to talking one evening and realise how the years had just gone by, with very little time to spend with each other. They talk about all sorts of things, and love doing it so much, that the woman decides to walk with her grandson when he has to walk around his corn fields before night-fall to make sure everything’s in place. As they are walking through the fields, they get to the why(s) and the wherefore(s) of love and marriage. “What better time than now to be talking about this”, says the woman.

“Would you do your grandmother a favour, my child?” “Of course granny,” says the young man, “whatever you say”. So the woman asks him to get her a corn from the field to her left. “Try and get me the biggest one. But keep in mind that you may not come back towards me to pick one. Once you pass a corn, you cannot come back to pick it, and can only go further ahead and pick another one. I want the biggest you can get, though.” The grandson obediently complies with the woman’s request and sets forth. He sees a big corn after a while, but thinks “what if there’s an even bigger corn up ahead”, and keeps walking. To his dismay he finds corns of different sizes – some small, some even big, but none as big as the one he’d seen before. So he picks up a reasonably big one and gets it for his granny.

“Now,” says the granny, “get me the biggest corn from the field to my right. And remember, you may not come backwards to pick one up!” So the grandson sets out again and after a while finds a big corn. “I might not find a one bigger than this if I go forward,” he thinks, “and I sure as hell can’t come back! This looks big enough, so I’ll just settle for this.” And he comes back with that corn and gives it to his grandma. “So did you get me the largest corn from the field to my left, then?” asks the woman. “No grandma, I missed it and realised it only after I had walked past it” replies the man. “And did you get me the largest corn from the field to my right?” she asks. “I guess I’ll never know,” he says, “I didn’t want to take a chance this time, so I settled for what I thought was big enough. Maybe there was a bigger one further up”

“My dear child, what you did the first time when you were finding me a corn, is a lot like finding love in life,” the woman says and smiles as she adds: “what you did the second time, though, is a lot like getting married”

Love, and falling in and out of it.

Shobhit Dabral — Sat, 19 Aug 2006 20:04:55 +0000

~~So she says to me, “it’s ok, you know, people fall out of love and then they move on…” in reply to my inquiry about this friend of her’s who broke up just before getting married; and leaves me wondering… “Fall out of love?” I want to disagree, but I can’t. I am in my zone of discomfort again. There’s just one thing I don’t want her to think about and that’s all she can think – 24/7 – at the back of her mind… it makes me want to puke! “Why can’t she let go of it?” I think to myself, “Things will happen if they have to.”~~

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fall
v. fell, (f
l) fall·en, (fô l n) fall·ing, falls
v. intr.

To drop or come down freely under the influence of gravity.
To drop oneself to a lower or less erect position: I fell back in my chair. The pilgrims fell to their knees.
1. To lose an upright or erect position suddenly.
2. To drop wounded or dead, especially in battle.

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I simply cannot see how you can fall ‘out’ of anywhere or anything, for that matter. Maybe that’s why they call it ‘falling’ in love. There’s only a way in, and there’s none out! You can fall short, maybe, but once you fall in, you’re in for good. There is all of one thing you can fall out of – a formation. A formation, though is something that interests us visually.

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vi·su·al (v zh - l) adj.

Of or relating to the sense of sight: a visual organ; visual receptors on the retina.
Seen or able to be seen by the eye; visible: a visual presentation; a design with a dramatic visual effect.
Optical.

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Neither of the two (formation, visual) have got anything to do with love, I was just pondering over anything that could explain ‘falling out’ as an expression in the English language. Nothing does.

And as far as falling out of love goes I am sorry but here’s what I think:

‘If u think you’ve fallen out (u simply can’t… it makes no sense), maybe you never fell in!!!’

So I disagree. Yes, people move on, but I don’t think one can fall out of love. You already know a person who took twenty five years to fall in love once… he’s never falling out of it.