With or Without you - U2

In my second semester at BITS when long F.R.I.E.N.D.S. marathon sessions were a ritual for me, I came across some very nice songs in the series that still creates the same affect like my first reaction when I heard them.

Wicked Game by Chris Isaak, I think everybody would appreciate the very inclusion of the song at the right moment during the show.

Just an episode or two before that, I heard With or Without you for the first time. I think it was played once while Ross and Rachel were in a middle of an issue and one more time, don't remember when. Honestly, I am kind of surprised that it took so long for the song to become one of my favorites. The song with such hauntingly beautiful lyrics, some what similar music and still it took me more than 2 years to start appreciating it?! This song is on repeat in my iTunes since last 3 days and given that I have spent more than 50 hours in last 72 hours in front of my laptop, I think I am having a bucket full of it. Well, a worthy song! I think I deserve consensus on that! :)

Kabutar Zameen Par. . .

Mumbai, the place that I have always been fond of. The Local, the junta, Marine Drive, every bit of it. I know people say 'Villages paint the real India" but Mumbai is where I have felt closer to the typical Indian paradigm. I mean I know India is all about rural but then the India that we see today wouldn't been the one if it were not for this gigantic establishment where a whole new era started some 200 years ago.

Staying alone in a different city can be a wonderful experience, especially if you, like me, have a knack of noticing the minutest of the things around you! You will realize that time just flows by strolling on Marine Drive with so many people around and still having the feeling of peace inside of being on the mellow side of yourself with yourself. Or standing on a local station watching trains pass by and not catching them. Or leaving the house thinking that you'll catch a cab but travelling the whole distance walking just because it seemed joyful. Or coming back to your room with a big smile on your face after playing around with white pigeons!

It all seems unnatural probably, especially the last one but anyone of them can change your day from one extreme to the another, they do that to me at least! Have your ever had the joy of having a pigeon walking slowly on your hands from your shoulders to your palm? And with those mystifying black eyes flaming on that unbelievably white delicate looking frame? When it nibbles you softly in an unharmful way on your finger when you are rubbing it's beak? Or the way it maneuvers it's neck to get a better sensation of your touch on it? What about 4 of them on your head, shoulders and knees?! When something so delicate walks on you, you get a different gumption of yourself. You can be trusted upon, something that, I think, no human being can make you to realize. Ever.

Thanks to those pigeons. That one white one in particular. . .

Endings. . .

Endings are never easy. I always build them up so much in my head that they can't possibly live upto my expectations and I just end up disappointed. I am not even sure why it matters to me that much how things end here. I guess it's because we all want to believe that what we do is important, that people hang onto our every word, that they care what we think. But the truth is you should consider yourself lucky if even occasionally you get to make someone, anyone, feel a little better. After that it's all about people that you led into your life.

- Closing monologue, Scrubs Season 8 Final Episode

A frame so fragile. . .

A frame so fragile, poised so exquisitely

In those eyes though, prevail incessantly

Calm, love, care, anger, affection

Mind deluging into it's glinting, if only virtually

Its arrest is a harmless-viscid traction

A well-composed psyche, a benevolent heart

Ah! That smile, is surely a reverent art

At times a churl, with dewy-eyed innocence

The face, attained expressions , a glib eloquence

Times together tantamount to a shred

Hair, inclining the frame towards perfection

A protracted fond touch on my head

But still miles away from satisfaction

Don't loosen this grip, not now or ever

No alterations, whether good or bad

An untainted personality, I can aver

The verse presents a feeling, but only the tad

The bird that never flew...

This is dedicated to Simpu, T2 and Megha, my favorite people on campus, rather among the very few that I have over all. Thanks a lot for all the wonderful times that we have spent together.

It was a dream that I had today. It goes like this. . .

We were sitting at my favorite place on campus during one of those post dinner walks. Somehow it was brighter than usual during that part of the day. Surroundings were more clear, moonlight seemed to be more absolved and was more reddish than its ordinary silver tinge. Basketball court was not at its usual place and appeared to have shifted towards the football court. The place we were sitting on was a big cemented patch with small dapples of vivid green grass. We were sitting in a circle with Simpu sitting on my right and Megha on my left. Nobody was saying anything, it was dark and quiet in every respect. We could hear a distant thumping of basketball every once in a while, the bobbling breeze and that one little bird's squeaky quacks were zipping across the otherwise silent instants that everybody seemed to enjoy.

Without realizing when it started, me and the bird established an eye connection. It's crooked eyes seemed to make it more wonderful to look at. The texture of the iris was something that I had never seen. I had this feeling that it was trying to tell me something, the bigger meaning of myself, something that will give me answers, especially to the questions of the recent past, the questions that I am not even aware of, the questions that pushed me to change. The longer we looked into each other's eyes, the more comfortable it became. I sensed somebody among the three pointed it out to other two but I gently lowered her hand without removing my connection. She then just jerked her head to get their attention. They looked to be mesmerized by the show too. They were looking at us as if watching a tennis match. But none of us, me or the bird, worried about that. I don't know what the bird was thinking but it was easy enough for me to keep doing that in front of them. Somehow they understood and dint mind extending the silence. Everyone was sitting still. Then everything moved away and me and the bird started coming closer, slowly. I was not walking but was just sliding while sitting. I grabbed their hands and they started moving with me. The connection was becoming more and more intense, more fixed, seemed more meaningful to me.

Within a split second, I experienced a sudden jolt in my stomach, as if somebody punched me real hard, ripping my nerves off. Even after the jolt faded, it hurt a lot, I felt weak and sick. Without breaking the connection I extended my hands to create a barrier between the three of them and the bird. My mind was going haywire, I was thinking whether it was the bird that did that gimmick. Sensing my dilemma, it's eyes said yes. I felt delplorable and my shoulders slackened in a way that the three of them noticed. I sensed a hand on each of my shoulders and relaxed a bit.

Without any notification, we again started sliding backwards and in no time were at our previous place. The connection still sustained. We were talking through eyes all this time. I asked him so many things and was satisfied to a large extent for the replies I got. When I asked why did it do that, its shoulders also slackened and suddenly it appeared much older. I could see the coming apology in its eyes, wide and clear. Without letting him to start apologizing, I asked if it was flying back. He gave me a smile that triggered an avalanche of boulders into my stomach. I can't explain it's smile properly but this is what I felt when it happened.

It asked to me to look above it's head exactly after 10 seconds but begged me not to break the connection before that. Not wanting to break it myself, I kept on doing what he wanted but my curiosity made those 10 seconds more like 10 bloody minutes. When it finally happened and I looked above, a basketball, much bigger than the usual size, came out of nowhere and was just milimeters above the bird's head falling at a scary speed. Suddenly sensing what is going to happen next, I looked into it's eyes again and the last thing that I saw before the ball squeezed everything out of the bird was these questions that it asked itself - How could have I flown away without giving you the satisfaction you have been hunting for since long now? How could have I broken the connection without answering all your questions? How could have I looked in to my own eyes if I did any of the two?

I heard three shocked cries somewhere nearby but I myself stood frozen. Those questions still seemed to be moving in front of my eyes as if having the attribute of physical matter. I was dragged away by all three of them. I felt so thankful that I had them around when that happened.

All the time when I was being taken away from the spot I kept on thinking, can there by anyone in your life as good a companion as that bird? I asked the same question to all three of them and got no answer.

I thought I got a companion like that bird but that turned out be a mere illusion. It still is. Are you that bird for someone else? Try being one. It will make you a better person. I think I am/can be that bird but where is my bird?

I feel sorry for the bird since I got up. It could have saved itself if it flew away. But it was the bird that never flew. . . .

The question still remains. . .

Beseeching for the non-existent
Unaccepted actual thrown away precariously
Never searched to see the true content
Just ignored it presumptuously

But the ignorance always felt unsatiated
A truth that must never be stated
A stray thought that triggers disdain inside
Dismissing the intellection keeps the essence satisfied

But still, at times, there persists anxiety and confusion
Its uneasy at those times, what if leads to a scary profusion
Pretentious laughter, but unfeigned pains
Somewhere inside, the question remains. .

Echoing insides neglected everytime
It still stays, so what if in quarantine
Forged acts, deceiving tames
Somewhere inside, the question still remains. .

Anxious and confused!

Have you ever been anxious without knowing the reason? Did that prickling in your stomach trigger without you knowing why? Did that mentally arduous feeling ever drive you crazy? Crazy enough to make you do characteristically abnormal things? Did that disarray ever frustrate you? Did that muddiness ever make you question yourself? Did that last for a prolonged duration taking you no where in the end? Did it ever fade away but not without leaving it's after effects?

An Irish blessing. . .

"May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be ever at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rain fall softly on your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the hollow of his hand."