Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Bombay Velvet

Bombay Velvet --- just one word, Surprised.

I am surprised why critics called this as disaster ... i am surprised that finally India had guts to have its own authentic Noir drama.

Many would be knowing that 50s was era of Noir, post that it was 90s when Hollywood recreated Noir era once again with stylish frames and contemporary narrations. One man who had put his stamp on this Genre was Martin Scorsese, Good fellas, Casino were the best and following that was Kevin Spaceys  LA confidential.

What AK did with BV was the clinical precision treatment with bad actors. The soul remains pure but it was body that was flawed.

Movie Genre are as good as Newtons Theorem,  you cannot redefine it as per your convenience.
A Noir should have a struggling Mobster who wants to become godfather, "The Master"; a local thug who becomes mobster, "Apprentice"  ... and then there has to be emotion where greed crosses over loyalty and lastly there has to be SEX in its theme, most important element of Noir.

Noir remains pointless without having the element of Sex. The same reason LA Confidential was about 2 police officers, Master and apprentice chasing Sex Syndicate.

Kashyap incorporates everything, he Has Master in Khambata and Apprentice in Jhonny and voyeurism by dull chemistry between Rosy and Jhonny.

Bombay Velvet starts on a very high note, it describes 50s Bombay in a very stylish manner but as soon as first half is done, second half fails to deliver the powerful reaction which is a pre-requisit of any Noir film.

The primary reason to the failure would be KJo as Khambhata. He was hands down the worst choice. His persona and looks were just superb but his voice had zero impact, in short he was not at all convincing DON.

Some of the most crucial scenes were ruined because of miscast, he looked like a sophisticated gentleman which is fine,  but that gentleman needs to be cunning and convincing. Just to put a perspective, such roles were done by Robert De Niro or Alpachino which Kashyap sheepishly offered to Kjo.

The most tricky part was to decide the story track for Rosey. She should be integral part of the movie yet her characterization needs to be of a trophy women, a mistress who is of no purpose. Kashyap directs Rosey with flying colors. He maintains the balance with effortlessly but somehow the conviction of her chemistry is like dead meat.

Overall movie is not a disaster but could have been much much better.

Kashyap could have easily incorporated the Cotton mill issue in much greater depth. He could have stressed more on the transformation of  60s Bombay into financial Capital .... the sad part is that Script of BV has all these elements but then Kashyap confines himself to only characters of Jhonny and Khambata and misses the most important character, BOMBAY

Monday, August 24, 2015

Love Ishtoryyy


1947, India seek its independence but at the same time had to witness her partition. It was a moment of joy, celebration for independence, but then there was agony of partition.

It was summer of 2004, when I met her for the first time, no violins, no roses, just a panic attack…. "What if she asks  for a coffee?" … I had my own demons to counter, coffees and movies were no nuclear weapons fine but it was her eyes, those solemn eyes, it had that those venom of seriousness which could kill any guy for not making a commitment.
It was hard, for starters it was “The Commitment” .... for someone who has never been sure for his choice for career, committing a lifetime relationship was like traveling to another galaxy via wormhole. One person per life, it’s worse than rolling a dice… what if I made wrong choice?

Independence was destined and it happened, two domino were created, India and Pakistan and then the third was born, their unwanted child, trouble. After Independence, most of the time went on deciding the definition, it started with Seato Cento moved to Afghan War and ended poorly with Kashmir....  but the best part of the narrative was that even after this 3 full-fledged wars they couldn't resolve the definition and left this to the mercy of proxy wars and communal speeches.

By 2005 I was sure that this was not my cup of tea, how one can be so sure about someone? .. i mean How was it possible to not like so many beautiful, lovely, inquisitive people around you and stick to your first choice?…. Be committed to one person? all you life ... huh ... and lastly what if all this charade failed … what if after years of this drama, we realize we were not supposed to be with each other..? but by then it was too late … before I could rationalize my skeptical side, she had happened to me, her thoughts had successfully imbibed in my DNA and had changed the complex design of my though process…  Slowly I started trusting my own instinct, I started realizing it’s just my own faith that I need to trust.
I often questioned her, “ What if you like someone else ? How can you be so sure?”
She said,”I know, you are the only one”
“How ?”
“You know when you heart starts beating little hard that usual, you know when you are happy, more than happy, just by thinking about someone’s face can bring smile and most important you look forward to see that person.…. Its then you know”
 I chuckled, and then I responded “So you feel all of these super-duper mushy mushy stuff when I am with you, and no matter what, you will feel the same even if tomorrow Shahrukh khan comes, you ain’t going to leave my hand, even for a second?” 
 She said “Yes of course, for shahrukh, I have to leave your hand to get his autograph.”
Yeah that was 2005, so selfies were yet to born, Autograph was the yardstick for madness.
Time passed and then we broke up, they say every relation comes with an expiry … mine was too early but then what I advocated all my life was proven true. No relationship lasts.

You started…. No you started, does this kind of discussion makes any sense? For India, its Pakistan who does ceasefire violation and for Pakistan its India.

At the time of partition, what appeared to be easy was quite challenging in real life. Although asking separate state, based on religion was simple but running the state only of religion was impossible. For every broken law there was one religious excuse. More than running state, it was about proving 2 nation theory to be right became the chief most objective.   

I resumed my life, unknown about the fact about my broken life, I started off with great enthusiasm but that spirit was short lived, it was too late for my metabolism, her presence in my life had already imbibed my operating system, normal terms like dating and flirting became adulterated version of happiness. On one hand things were clear: “it was her or her substitute” and on other hand it was confusion: “there is no substitute to her” … I was heading towards annihilation of my sanity and yet I was doing this knowingly.

Over the period of years, whenever new PM was elected, the first thing that took place was the meeting between two heads. They first telephoned and then send envoys. When envoys succeeded, Ministers made plans for rendezvous, after ministers, PM decided to make it official and then finally they call for Summit and time came to sign the joint declaration, they backed off.

And one fine day I messaged her, and then she responded, Hi became hello…… hello gave place to how are you … soon catch up talk became more like daily routine and in next half an hour we started talking as if It was just one day rather than 5 years…... and in no time we were back to 2005. Chat gave room to coffee and coffee were replaced by movies and pop corns, chit chat follows hugs and kisses and suddenly old love got rekindled and at that time she played the litmus test, “ I have to tell you something, I had an affair, we were close, and then we broke up. I wanted to clear the air and don’t want to lie.”

After all in her personal space, she was allowed to do whatever she wanted. She had an affair, and it ended so what big deal. We started again, but within 3 months major distraction came, family.

Since India and Pakistan had claimed their priced freedom, the second biggest joke that has happened since then is the United Nation. UN is one helpless father, who is good for nothing, his kids don’t give a damn, his wife elopes with his best friend. His own father questions his credibility and except that one annual day of celebration, no one remembers him.

One could easily points the audience of the respective countries to be the biggest hurdle. Media anchors are no less than angry uncle, religious group are those blackmailing mothers who threaten to commit suicide. Politicians are those relatives who blabber without iota of knowledge about the pretext of that context and yet they call it as Joint family.

It requires courage to go against your family, but I had to think what her father’s brothers wife’s brother has to say about my mother’s brothers son’s father in law then this whole charade of running behind people is waste of time.
“Can you go against your parents?”
She replied, “No”
We gave it a pass.

We decided we would find suitable matches for ourselves, and will end this story forever, yes marriage was and it will reaming till eternity a holy grail. If marriage had solved problems of millions of Indians, then why not 2 more Indians.

And then for over period of time, we exchanged our disaster choices and proposal, her stories were much funnier, though some were humiliating but mostly they were entertaining.

 “ Yeah her sense of humor reminds me of her” …. “Oh her dressing sense suck, she is just like her” …. “ Oh she doesn’t like such movies…. Hmmm, reminded me of my an old friend” ….. “Oh she is using same perfume..”

And then I realized, it’s not alternative, its just her replacement what I had been trying out for so long.
And then again, India decided to have a composite dialogue, and the chances of getting success are same … zero. The basic problem of this peace area is not US or UN, it’s that the time clock from both the sides is stuck with 1947……. India still treats its counterpart as Pakistan of 1947 and on the other hand the Pakistan is still stuck with the issues of 1947, Kashmir.  Though time has rapidly moved, in last 69 years so much have changed, but yet when these two domino meet, they recreate their 1947 moment again.

Yesterday, I met her again, face to face, walking across, I saw her radiant smile, I asked her for coffee, and she said yes. We did a quick catch up for last 3 years, and in no time, we were back to 2005. And then she said, “I have something to tell you, I had an affair, around year ago, how about you?”

I think just like Pakistan, my clock is stuck... and no matter what my response will be constant.
I have to fall in the loop to ensure loop works.

Saturday, August 15, 2015

                                    TRUE ROMANCE
                                   Lust is pure, love is Subjective
I lied, i denied, i refused to accept ....yes it was infidelity  and yes she was my mistake...... who would have thought that what started as a momentary fling,  later on will become truth of my life.

I was young, naive, thought this is part of life, even considered this to be a virtue and by the time i realized, i had already walked miles, and there was no looking back, the only thing kept ticking was the left within me, guilt: guilt of hiding the fact, guilt of keeping her a secret from my loved ones, for not having courage to embrace her in front of this so-called society.... a bond of companionship was now the reason of my seclusion.

It was a betrayal, betrayal of my conscious, what began as love was now a mere addiction, there was no equality, there was master and then there was slave, yes I was her slave; and i had no shame accepting that. I needed her more than ever and she completed me. Though the urge of having her made me insignificant but then i was ready to make any sacrifice for her. I was ready to kill my ego, my sole integrity for existence, for sake of her brightened face, which was like a ball of fire within the gigantic view of cosmic world.

She gave meaning to my life, It was her company who gave alternative to my mundane boredom, holding her in my hand made me felt complete... she was the complementing fact of my creative side, and  then time came when it was either her or nothing.

Realization occurred, i had to make a tough choice, and moment by moment it was becoming challenging. This relationship had made me rather more of a crippled rather than a dependant entity.
Amid of this agony of being virtually handicapped, the icing on the cake was my justification for her seduction, my conscious effort to deny my feelings, i was still looking out for her support and yet i was denying.

I controlled myself from visiting her...and later i convinced myself that there can be life without
indulging in her company and then finally i got her out of my system.

I felt relaxed, there was no guilt , no lying .. no more excuses,  ... i was more than active, more than fresh and suddenly life became fun until i dint hit my moment of weakness.

It was raining like hell and i was standing there on the bus stop, waiting for my bus to come. It was pouring badly and the urge of seeing her was at its pinnacle last time, just one last time. I was thinking aloud, concentrating the falling of water droplets in slow motion from the edges of an umbrella... i was unable to decide, whether to walk away or wait for bus... and then i decided what any story writer in Indian film would have done, i flipped the coin... best of three became best of five and insanity became armature behavior.  

It was simple, i wanted to feel her once, after all, one time is no such crime, that’s what logical brain was debating with the emotional one... but then emotional side one was already in awe of her and was against the idea of being away from her.
One thing led to another and once became twice then thrice and no time, i was back to the usual routine.
Quitting was never easy and it never will be, more than quitting her it was that moment of weakness which is hard to quit.
Disclaimer: All this while i was taking about Drinking and Smoking.... All those who have thought other way round please read this again.   
No Cigarette and alcohol were used during the making of this piece of shit – Issued in the interest of health ministry.

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Nihilism - The calling

End of a slumber; rise from ashes; it’s a game cant keep resting for long.
Tried so many things, failed almost every time but never got dithered, probably the reasons I chose were wrong, probably!!!!

Life is no assignment, need to finish with A+ grade or getting F will make you repeat the game, it’s surely a journey, journey of narratives, small, big, significant, unnecessary, reasonable and sometimes thought provoking.

There need not to be any meaning correlated with my action I do… with my choices I make … with the things I like …… and yes I don’t want to find any;  and that’s the time one hits boredom, so do I, and then I think of something better…….. better and much more exciting………. better exciting and some how useful …. And again this better exciting and useful action becomes monotonous: what a pity, life is a bitch!!!

So again its same old boring routine, probably once again I had opted for wrong reason or is this part of my karmic cycle: I need to get bored…… I am …. damn it, I am bored, bored of faces, bored of their facts, unnecessary concerns, uncanny lifestyle, over the top spirituality  …… but still excitement is necessary for survival.

Life has no purpose, as UG said, I m no better than dog or that rat, I don’t need pied piper, what I need is the strength to sustain this monotonous phase till the time I am destined to breathe.

End is not in my hand, and making end better is defiantly something I am keen of, but then what else I can do which can make me busy??, probably I should stop looking out for new things and reconcile with the fact that happiness is a myth, passion is whore, being ambitious is like suffering from syphilis, spirituality is a con man’s game and Gurus and Gods are not required to sustain.       

Take a glass, pour some wine, make stuff and get high, will think about life once hangover is OVER.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Nihilism - The realization

As a kid, they taught me with all kind of moral lessons; they made me learn remorse, got me the novelty which they call respect and whenever I scorned, they used the deathly weapon, intellect.

They gave me the purest emotion, feel for others: do well to them and expect the same –If u r good with people around you then god will be good to you. They gave me the insight, to have the essence to feel school as a temple, a temple where humanity sells in the form of humility, and they make it sure that students had the Holy Grail; the sweetest poison men ever had, to compete.  

Life is race, and you have to come first……….. get the bloody memento and shove it in your ass . “In life, the chief goal should be to have reverence for culture and traditional value”, that’s what they believed and the one who follows, gets exuberant life and succumbs till eternity.

Those who were never in a race, they got them into it, people who never thought of goals, they injected. Those who hardly cared for being ambitious, they made the comparison and got customized virtuous citizens out of them; who became the luminary of mankind to save the society which they called, altruism.

The biggest virtue of mankind is that it has a classified system, where people of different range of morality can coexist; while having turbulence, its state remains in equilibrium.

With these steroids, average mindset turned into a high profile program which not only justifies illogical concept but also satisfy in extreme distress, it can even change the opinions based on your aides and slowly steadily one finds peace in being ambitiously bitten persona whose list of goals is more than his age although goals which he never had but what society bestowed.

How perfect this can be, a society where people had common goals all have same set of achievements, looks like everyone gets puberty at the same time. Everyone living for his neighbor’s sake, the originality means following the footsteps of someone; intelligence lies in choosing the right ally. To make this act together, they got some orator, who spoke about individuality of your soul and then they play the trump card of complete submission of soul, thus killing the each and every bit of your soul.


Kid is tamed with a constant fear of being a loser if can’t do anything significant in his life, they left the job for the society to explain him the meaning of SIGNIFICANT. His temple of humanity taught him how fatal can be being individualistic; they made him believe what it takes to live for sake of others happiness at the same time killing his own.

With his each breath, he mocked his inner sense, whenever he scorned, they taught him the doctrine of dualism. Whenever he showed the content, they made him feel jealous for others, raised the adrenal rush to achieve what others have done.

The distance which he traveled from being inferior to superior became his path, whenever he talked about his thoughts, his lust, his ego; they gave him the concoction of potion, altruism.

Whatever he liked, they made it taboo, things which made him feel good became sin. They made him run after the desires, which he never had, they made the chase more complicated by adding up more spices, bending few rules, switching his priorities from being ambitious to a family man and ending it with spirituality; they confused him like anything so that he could never fathom the insidious plans.

To appease this turbulence, to have the state of equilibrium, they ask for the final act, the last goal they set when they ask him to redeem the salvation.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

The Last Act

Instinct to kill comes when respect for life begins......

Hardships followed by unending misfortunes, don’t know whether my life has any significance or not…… when the exigency to get the answers for such questions becomes necessity, then it becomes quite easy to decide what other find absurd and egregious.

Series of thoughts gave me the COURAGE to be where no one can dare, even in his wildest dream but certainly, standing on the terrace of a 200 meters long building is the best kick I ever had in my life, today, right now; it feels that this whole world comprises of only two things, life and death AND unfortunately neither comes for free. I don’t know why people have different interpretation when the result is same, those so called saint who quit relations for sake of THEMSELVES are treated as Demigods and those who quit because of OTHERS are called cowards??????

All my life, I had a very simple rule; to put onus on others; AND to find alibis: was what I believe I was destined for!!! I don’t remember from where this started, and it shaped me up like this but the only thought that summarizes me is “weakness of attitude is the weakness of character” and I guess I have lost everything … everything .... and that too some ages ago; and sometimes I doubt whether I was born like this or probably I made this to myself????? Ah here comes the cool breeze, though I can feel yet can’t enjoy it; don’t know but there is something which is creating some kind of confusion, is this what one calls panic or nervousness?? ……

Though people won’t find my gruesome act as a noble one, probably they won’t ever be able to justify it but I have my own set of reasons and after thinking and re-thinking for past thirty minutes, I have made up my mind. Last few days I had insomnia; I guess I have become insomniac; can’t trust my shadow anymore; there is no one who can understand ME, my anxieties, whom I can trust or call as a friend or look for a support ahhh ………. am I behaving like a paranoid???

You lose interest when nothing appeals you; that is what you have been taught but actually one loses interest when he can’t make himself INTRESTING, strange isn’t!! and life becomes trash and so becomes the emotions. Plight, agony, anxiety these are all same for me, don’t know how people differentiate these. For me all are form of same emotion which arouses when failure is met, and yet some people smoke it as they don’t feel it at all; bloody Hippocrates.

I fucked up with my boss, brook up with that bitch; messed up with my colleagues, I am not in talking terms with my family: in short my life sucks!!!! This “I”, I hate this “I” …. This “I” is nothing but a piece of shit which no one is ready to buy and to worse the scenario, no one is going to respect this filthy alphabet; “I” ……. …..Where was this I when she fucked my trust, my ego my senses and where was this I when my manager raped my conscious, my self esteem, my confidence, DIGNITY that is left in milligrams after my engineering; I guess this “I” was on the vacation with “WE” or they were having orgy with “US” …. I couldn’t reply to his priceless comments, stood there as if I was the bloody prostitute and he was my pimp, and I denied for the noble service. I don’t know if I have any future, means probably I have a future ….. no .. no I have decided and I am going to do this …….. at least it will an respectable ending to the disrespectful story, I am going to QUIT.

Clouds look terrific, it’s like never been seen before kind of and this typical bengaluru weather, nothing can beat this; this orange border of the clouds, it looks as it’s a HUGE canvas and the painter is …… … am I becoming poetic? Or it’s the pinnacle of being in a baffled state?? I think I am talking nonsense. But on a serious note I WILL miss this weather. My heartbeat is becoming faster, god I am sweating ….. gosh it’s a not going to be that easy.

Don’t know why my eyes are wet; I guess it’s quite windy. About 2 hours back I called dad, he was doing good and so was the mom; had lunch with friends just Hour ago, I had my favorite chicken Biryani but still the feeling of being incomplete is there ; do I really need do THIS ???? ahhh probably I forgot to Smoke.

My grand mom taught me that end is the salvation, whatever we do is for the end and it’s that fucking end that completes our CIRCLE. All my deeds will die with my end and so will be efforts. I don’t know why but seriously this END seems to be the most important aspect and all these years I thought it was porn which should be reckoned most.

God gave me this life, but he himself got the fucking remote control; which my grandmother called destiny and but my friend called it as VAII (visionary aspect of an Individual Indian), which is as bright as the future of my fellow Indians………. God why I was born in India ???. Whatever I do, where ever I will go my life will be controlled by someone else and when it has to end then again it’s someone else who plans it. Neither I can change my beginning nor I have any control over my present; and future; that was always in doubt…. than what else can I do???..... probably, I can opt for an end, endthat’s of my choice, I will die of my own death and it will complete my circle.

Oh its more dreadful than I anticipated, everything looks so small from here…. I think I am getting panic, oh last cigarette left, …. Ah finally I am having LAST cigarette, man no more cigarettes……. And no more vodka, of all the things vodka will be the one which I am going to miss and of course the burden of being virgin will remain with me….……ah last puff; the golden puff so with this I finished all pending tasks and now it’s time for some action.

200 metres don’t know how much time it will take, but yes now I am free and have no more worries. I am just one step away from the hassle free world; ….it’s high time I should jump now.

Suddenly It felt like I am floating, have no mass and is this freedom? and With that, my grandmother’s teaching of end and circle theory flashed again in front of my eyes and then for the first time I realized that it was supposed to be the Complete circle but the end that I have chosen is a semi circle; I will die my own death, yes it was something that i always wanted, but what I have done doesn’t mean that, I am dying because of others not because I wanted to……. Shit I cant undo this, no Cntrl Z ….. Suddenly it felt that I am loser and for the first time I realized that why everyone uses to hate me; with that disgusting feel; I glanced and suddenly i felt pain in my chest, I think I got myfirst and the last cardiac arrest, with that feeling I had only one word in my mind; Suicide.

Note: Few weeks back, a 22 year old guy jumped from the 13th floor and officially committed suicide, I witnessed this gruesome act, saw his body drenched in blood, for me he was coward and nothing on this earth can justify his act. This post is an adaptation, I wrote what I thought; it took me two weeks time to analyse his perspective and that’s why major chunk of this post favors’ his reason, probably, for someone, these reasons can make sense, or his act will be a synonym of courage but for me he will be a COWARD.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Blue Blood

It’s not easy to hold thoughts, they seek avenues; just like a wet dream. At the back of my mind, I had an idea but somehow was feeling quite reluctant to pen down those random thoughts. Somewhere, in some way I didn’t know how to define HER; defiantly I was missing out something and hence was avoiding. Few days back I read Ramu’s blog where he described his passion for Sridevi; right at that moment I decided that I am going to write what I was feeling for so many years.

Boy meets a girl, either it turns out to be love or hatred, friendship perhaps can exist but what I had for her was unlike of human nature. More often, relationship is seen with the lens of voyeurism or lust and seldom with respect but what I felt for her was above all these lucid emotions, it was divine, of its own league it was indeed a pure devotion and that’s what I felt for her when I first saw her in the springs of 2002.

Springs as a metaphor is interpreted as kind of re-birth, springs of 2002 was much like a arousal for me, although I was born some years back but the day I saw her first is what I feel as I was born in the real sense. It was then I realized the sense and developed the appetite to appreciate beauty, her charm was in comparable; and yet its adorableness was there for the naked eyes. The ecstasy; that ran in my blood was like the 440 volt of current which made be dumbfounded. She was indeed a gratifying edifice, which defined the meaning of delicacy with utmost elegance and grace. If at all I ever thanked god for creating humans then it was only for her; whom I call ANGEL.

Physicist were sadly mistaken as they defined only four forces, and skipped the most important one, “Force of getting lured” which she exuded from her winsome gestures. The spell of her beauty was for which anyone can die for; which can mesmerize even the dead ones, and can make them realize that they are DEAD. Her amiable smile; the symbol of peace; was so pious that it could have cured any hazardous disease; probably that’s why she was a medicine student. I always wished her to be a doctor and me being her patient, ah!! What else can one desire for?

Ok let me try to describe her , I know it sounds bit wired and it’s equally audacious to define ANGEL in mere words where she herself stand as a epitome of literature and whole world seems minuscule in front of her. For me she was the quintessential form of beauty, blended with the rawness of innocence, this made others aesthetic and the enigma of her personality; that I couldn’t fathom till this date was simply telesmatic. Her face gave a resemblance of Vinci’s Mona Lisa; still, calm and enigmatic, her black hair were road to heaven and her nose; which was a like a ruby entangled in a necklace. I honestly believe that adjectives were discovered because of her, and since I have done the sin of describing her, I just want to say she truly justifies the concept of anthropomorphism.

This story began when I joined classes and she too was there. It looks quite disgusting that an Angel has to get enroll, though books was her forte but still like all other routine humans she had to do the dutiful. I use to come hour before as all the students including her use to wait in the park outside the classes. Since she uses to come directly from school so had no alternative but to wait for an hour, although I had no reason to come early and wait there but still I use to be there for her, just to have a glimpse of her from the other side of the park.

The day arrived, she came to classes after a break as she was suffering from typhoid; I went to had some water from the water cooler and suddenly Angel was there in front of my eyes . I wished I could pause that particular moment and behold her till eternity but as we know beautiful moments comes in a small quantum of time and so was this, I thought of kindle the conversation by enquiring about her health but it felt as if I have to ask James Cameron about his break that he took after making Titanic, as she has no other job except briefing me with her health. Nevertheless our conversation was like Titanic unlike of Kate Winslet and L’ DeCapri; it was more like that giant ship which had to sink. I wasted time in analyzing and she herself greeted me and that was last thing I remember because for next one hour I was actually subconscious.

This was the first time when I had an eye contact with her, her dark black eyes with a brownish eyeball looked like a brownish egg with the golden refraction, laid deep beneath in the sea. Her eyes were truly the metaphoric symbol for the calm ocean where lots of ships can co-exist and yet each of them believes that ocean belongs to him only. Her eyes exuded kindness and at the same time they exhibited the authority. Black Bindi on her forehead multi folded the depth of her eyes and a mole on her chin; exuberated the show. She had a dulcet dialect and her voice, echoed in my ear for whole week. For next seven days I tried not to be in her vicinity as another dosage of her charm would have made me fugue.

Once after our class was done, i saw her on the road amid with her two friends; negotiating with some Auto driver; how lucky that dog was? Having said that he was a moron too; arguing with damsel, who has come from paradise, beautifully clad in her white uniform was absurd.

I don’t know why I love monsoon, but I just love them. After a heavy shower, there is a rare aroma due to the wet loam (soil), this aroma has its own hysteria, incomparable fragrance. Gosh I love to love what I love about monsoon.

Some motivate by their deeds and some with their actions; it started raining; I took an extra umbrella for her. In the meantime it got really dirty; though it was noon but it was already dark. First I thought of skipping my class but then I thought about her and soon all ambiguities were over. She came in, almost dry yet her hair were wet. Though she had an umbrella but somehow her face was looked wet. It looked like an angel from a fairy tale has found new abode and has witnessed first shower of her life; intrigued about rains so playing with it and up there; so called deities; watching the delightful sight and this made rain of proud of itself.

What I saw next was truly cinematic; in a tight close up, where only the upper half of her face was in the focus; the grip was so fine that I was able to capture even her small gestures and she did something; she winked her eyes, her eyelashes kissed each other and when they got apart something happened and it disturbed me, something got dripped which shifted my focus from her eyes; it was the rain drop. At that particular point those rain drops were like price less pearls. Her ear had an entangled drop and it looked like the tip of the snowy covered mountain, this was indeed majestic. At that time, my eyes kept wide open as was my mouth and it felt that there is goddess, goddess of beauty who has just taken a sacred bath, standing in front of me and she shredding priceless moments which none of the camera can ever capture except; except my eyes, and with that I winked them and captured the most rare moment of my life.

Rare thing happens rarely and that’s why they become rare. It was a dream come true, I was in my car and she came out from the classes, I asked her friend’s friend for the drop, chain reaction got instigated and soon she with her friends were there. I wanted her to sit beside me as other way; her glimpse in the rear-view mirror would have distracted; jokes apart it would have been ………. . She sat behind driver’s seat and with that I adjusted my rear-view, she scroll down the window and cool breeze came in and kissed her face, disturbing her hair and then my concentration. With every turn I had her view and it became more prominent, though it was only side view but it worth a ton. I left them at their destination but the presence of her is still there in the rear view.

I hate winters and there is no second thought about that, freezing down to the single digit temperature, wrapped with fleece, can’t imagine a second without room heater, and that’s why I always wonder why the hell it has to be. Finally I was dawned with the wisdom and winters of 2003 became the most memorable and the unforgettable one.

It was an arduous winter, we had a class at 7 in the morning, I was there at well before time, as it was supposed to be the last time I could see her and I had no intentions to ruin it so I was well before time, I had a company of my friend and FOG, of course no need to say about angel since was always there in my mind. At around 8 doors were opened and except me and my friend only few were there, trembling in the cold winter my mind was praying only for her, don’t know just wanted to see her for the last time.

Few more came, but still something was missing; it was 8:30 and finally she arrived; she was in a velvet green jacket. She entered with a smile on her face and of course seeing her smiling, I felt esthetic, somehow there was the sense of Warmth and the amalgamation of being in cold and warmth was divine, which I never felt again. She uttered something to her friend; although her voice wasn’t audible but I could see the smoke/frost coming out from her mouth, and somehow I think I owe it to god since all these feeling and especially this scene was not possible without having WINTERS

Before I can end up I just want to say, throughout this post I didn’t mention her color, neither I mentioned her height nor I made her a selling commodity and address her with derogatory rhetoric like ravishing, sensuous, voluptuous…etc; because I feel that these things can never define the essence of the beauty, to the maximum, they can manipulate the feelings with the Sham of some glamorous vocabulary and glittering emotions which die as soon one closes his eyes. I never heard any violins or for that matter Mozart; neither I visualized any song sequence, in short no filmy clich├ęd happened with me but whatever happened was more than that, something which can be seen with your closed eyes, which could be realized without touching it, u can hear it not from your ears but from your heart and finally, it’s the feeling which never dies as its connected with your soul. This is exactly what I felt about her.