Tennis, anyone?

Friday evening, Prashant was back from work. "You know what...Dheeraj called after ages. They want to meet up with us for dinner tomorrow." Deeply engrossed in The God of Small Things, I muttered, "Hmm..." Prashant continued, "You know ...I have a brilliant idea!", and looked at me. I was lost in the book. "How about we invite them earlier for a game of tennis?"
I reluctantly put down my book. "Sure...we can...but aren't you a little rusty after all these years of inactivity?" Prashant let out an exasperated sigh, "I might be rusty, but at least I am trying to plan a fun weekend." I thought a moment about retaliation, then deciding against it, let out a smile. "True, let me plan the menu for dinner".

Prashant started calling Dheeraj; I went back to my book. I did not like Arundhati Roy's writings, but didn't want to be the only person around who hadn't read the book.

Dheeraj and Sindhu came sharp at 3.00 pm. I had never met them separately, other than in Prashant's monthly office parties. Of course, those were formal events and there was no scope of regular conversation once I was introduced as the Vice President's wife. So mostly I hung around Mrs. Khanna, the CEO's wife, who always wanted to share anecdotes about her kids with me.

Halfway through the game, I realised that I was actually enjoying myself. Dheeraj had a great sense of humor and came up with the most hilarious comments at the most opportune moments. Sindhu, however looked a little pale. After sometime, she announced she was not feeling well and did not want to play in the sun anymore. I offered her lemonade and suggested that she rest in our bedroom. Sindhu wanted to leave instead and asked Dheeraj whether he wanted to go with her. Dheeraj looked visibly irritated, and soon both were having a heated discussion. Sindhu finally left in a huff. "Well, then...here ends all the fun. Just when I was finally enjoying myself", I thought to myself but said nothing. Instead, I smiled graciously and suggested that we could all head inside, and maybe watch a movie or something. Prashant immediately agreed and Dheeraj suggested we watch Roman Holiday. I looked at Prashant, who had an inexplicable expression on his face. Prashant hated classics. What kind of person could hate classics ! I made up my mind and smiled sweetly at Dheeraj, "That's a wonderful idea".

Almost halfway through the movie Prashant got a call from work. It was inevitable. This was the first Saturday he was home in three months. I was not terribly surprised. He moved away to the couch, took out his macbook and started working. The person on the other end apparently had a lot of questions, and finally he let an exasperated sigh. "Ok, ok...I have guests at home. I can come for only a couple of hours." He told us he would be back soon, but I knew better. Work was his first love and I would consider myself lucky to see him at dinner.

I was secretly happy. After ages, I was enjoying myself in another man's company and Dheeraj knew how to be charming. He looked at me mischeviously, "Ready for another game?". My mind was racing,"Was he flirting with me?" But I was guilty too, I was actually enjoying the attention.
We played another game, and it felt wonderful. I was a sportsperson and Prashant hated tennis too. I had no clue how we had ended up together. We seemed to have nothing in common anymore.

After the game we decided to finish the movie. One thing led to the other, and soon we were in each other's arms. Fearful that Prashant would be back, but obviously wanting more of this clandestinity, I suggested we move outside to our summerhouse.

We rarely used our summerhouse, and the door was covered with a ring of ivy. I yanked it open but it opened smoothly. I went in and stared right into the faces of my husband, Prashant and the woman I had seen with him in the new Italian restaurant at downtown. I knew now why Sindhu had looked so familiar.

The Awakening

Finally things fell into place.

I walked on... past the old banyan tree... past the gurgling creek... past one-legged Velu's cabin... across Orange Avenue... and your house.

Images flash by, blurred and fleeting at first and then clear as reality- glimpses of the past. Of you and me. Holding hands, in the shade of the banyan tree. I can see my face lit up like a thousand suns. Never had I looked happier. I can hear our laughter resonating through the rippling water as we splash each other playfully. I can feel you trickling droplets down my spine and it still gives me faint shivers. And to escape from you I had run across to one-legged Velu's cabin. Poor Velu had died few years ago. And no one lived there since, which was good for us. It was our own sweet refuge.

More flashbacks. Of Orange Avenue, and your house. The red bricks which I will never forget. You and me at the porch, holding hands. Suddenly your mother's voice sounds in the background and we scamper to our refuge. I can still smell the scent of your cologne in the midsummer afternoon.

And then one fine day how things had changed. Appa got transferred and we had to move out. You promised me that you would write every week. Five years had passed since. Thirty mails from me. None from you.

Today I was back. Appa had got a transfer to the same town again. Of course the first thing I did was to come and see you. I stood in front of your house, thinking hard, what to do, how to call you again. How to tell you how much I had missed you. My heart was racing as I wondered how you looked. Had you changed, would you recognize me?

The door opened and two people came out. You looked a shade older and a trifle taller. I realized then that the boy I knew was lost forever. Hand in hand with you was a pretty young woman. I looked at your face which was lit up like a thousand suns. You had never looked happier before. And finally things fell into place. Things that had never made sense before.

Recipe for a lifetime

Give me some sunshine
and some rain,
a mouthful of sky
and a handful of sea,
shafts of moonlight
and a shower of stars,
a palette of thoughts
and a platter of knowledge,
a flight of dreams
and wings of desire,
top it off with a hand of friendship
and a heart of love

and I shall make a lifetime out of it.

On dreams and dream catchers

I always feel that my dreams are a realm which are impervious to the vagaries of daily life. Riding on my wings of desire they are boundless. They take me to wonderland whenever I want and encourage me like no one I know.

One fine day I stumbled upon the word "dream catcher". What a strange word ...both abstract and absurd. It wasn't the first time I heard it but somehow that day it sounded particularly ominous and menacing. It was a terrible thought, as if some monster had clipped my wings of desire. Preposterous! I told myself when I tried to gauge the physical concept of trapping boundless dreams. I started feeling better. I was curious to find its exact connotation, nevertheless.

The word originates from the Ojibwa (Chippwa) culture (which is basically the largest group of native American tribes). It is a handmade object based on a willow hoop on which is woven a loose net or web, and then decorated with personal and sacred items like feathers and beads. It is used to protect sleeping children from nightmares. The Ojibwas believe that bad dreams stay in the net and disappear in the light of the day. The good ones filter through. Aha! I thought...then why do they call it a dream catcher, they should rename it to nightmare catcher or something like that! This description appealed to me though. My dreams were safe and sound now. And in my opinion if nightmares had wings, they should be clipped off as soon as possible.

According to another interesting folklore "dream catcher" was an inanimate form of the word "spider". Spider webs were actually hung from the hoop of a child's cradle board. Now that is ominous and menacing surely!

Picture credits : A painting by Joanne Bird. Plz visit http://www.joannebird.com/

Been there done that

Been there done that.

Stolen glances,
first flush of adrenaline,
doodles during history lecture.

Sleepless nights,
first attempt at verse,
profession of love
and the wait.

Next day in school,
more stolen glances,
a shy smile.
Elation.

Attempts at conversation,
eyes meet
a thousand words spoken
smile responds.

Stolen moments,
the first movie,
first rain,
adrenaline all the way,
and the inevitable-
the first kiss.
Sweetness redefined.
Hearts beat synchronously.
Life is beautiful.

Then the day,
end of school,
tears galore,
promises made over and over.

Paths separate,
lives separate
never to meet again.

Much is forgotten now
even faces are blurred.
Two things remain.
A page in the diary
and sweet nothings
of something there was.

Time to Act

The time is here
to do your duty,
to be worthy
of the mother's womb.

Dont wait for clashing hooves,
dont wait for trumpeters,
you are a soldier of today.
Listen to your heart
you will hear the clarion call.

Rise from your slumber,
fear not,
you are a phoenix.

The time is just right
to act .
For the nation needs you now.

Picture credits : Painted by Noell Grace. Please visit http://www.noellgrace.com/ for more details.

Doppelgänger

The other side of me
is an antipode.
I say aye.
She says nay.
I accept .
She denies.
I hold on .
She breaks off.
I smile at the rain.
She says a storm is brewing.
I say life is beautiful.
She says people are selfish.
I say I love him.
She says but he does not.

Someday I fear
what if
I turn into her ?

Picture credits :

Starry nights

Starry starry nights.

Showcase nature's chandelier.
Harbinger prosperity.
Compose a beautiful melody.
Uplift the soul.

Revive our night together.
Blessed by the same stars.

I do not like starry nights.

Picture credits : Starry night over the Rhone - Van Gogh

Riding on a dragonfly

At last, I embark, on the wings of a dragonfly, on my journey of life. Past the lush green meadows and across the sparkling streams, the cool breeze flapping the translucent wings, I pull to rest on a patch of dancing sunflowers. Suddenly the clear blue skies break into showers, and the fresh raindrops drench me all over. I take a deep breath and inhale the scent of the rain, and gaze at the grass once more, which looks greener than ever before, swaying away to the tune of life.

The rain stops suddenly as it started and the skies brighten up again, tufts of white floating in a massive canopy of blue. The sun winks from behind and smiles at the happy earth.

I jump on a puddle, making a big splash and create a whirlpool. A beautiful whirlpool it is - speckled with dancing sunbeams and glistening droplets, forming a chandelier of myriad reflections. I embark on my journey again, and a beautiful sight awaits me. I hasten to it before it disappears in a fleeting moment. I reach out, hoping to catch a chunk of the rainbow in my hand and capture it forever, but all in vain. I decide to ride on it instead, gushing with excitement at my adventure and enthralled at the grandeur of the ephemeral spectrum.

But soon enough, the sun comes out in full blaze. I slide down my roller-coaster and thud, land on the cushion of lush green velvet.

Aah...........life is truly beautiful.