I Wish.

It rained today evening and the smell of wet muddy soil and crisp air overwhelms me. It takes me back in time, when it was all so complicated, simple and pure. It takes me back to school, to my hostel, to the long walks from the dinning hall, to the Maggi parties and bathroom water fights. The walks lit by the moon, the misty mornings where I woke up to the voice of my house parent, hoping to squeeze out an extra minute(s) and dancing to the latest song in the radio at any time of the day or night They are so many such memories I would like to forever and ever keep in my arms and visit in times like these.

I close my eyes are random images pass by. Of faces, places and moments. They start of in a random order then go on to suddenly spin around and come together. It is mysterious and at the same time magical. I would trade anything asked for if I could just go back for a few seconds to those sandy paths, those flowering trees and those familiar faces. The warmth, compassion and sincerity of relationship. The passage and stillness of time and memories. The everything of everything. 

I was chatting with a junior today and we spoke about our hostel lives. The ice breaking session, the freshers performance, the clothes people wore, the morning ramp walk in the dinning hall, the faces turning sour on seeing the Idly and what not. 

As much as I tell myself that I have moved on and that is the past. It will never leave me and deep down I never want it to. It is a treasure trove of memories, some of which make life worth living. 

Boys Hostel. Kitchen. Four Rooms. Bed. Chair. Coffee.Her. Moonlit terrace nights.Music.

Us and Them. 

Note - This is a very abrupt post written in a flash. It may not be that good. Sorry :)

2010-2011

Ahhaa! One year of college has come to an end and ladies and gentleman! What an year it has been. 

I have changed, a lot. The individual I was as I first stepped into Pune on a rainy day in June exists only in the shadows of the individual that left Pune with a spring in his step a few weeks ago. He walked around with a bag and explored a new world, like a child exploring a new toy with tantrums and triumphs. He walked around carrying his baggage, like a wanderer hoping to find home again. He walked out with nothing is his hands for he knew what he really always wanted.

Looking back time just flew yet some moments still linger. I wish I could describe all of them to you and myself. They are a handful of moments which you can feel and experience as well when the time is right, yet words often elude them. It is difficult to describe something which even you have not completely understood.

I do not know where to start from, which thread to pull out from the weaves of time and stitch together as I write. Some threads have not been touched upon and have slowly withered away. What is new today, will tomorrow be old and now is left behind, yet those moments still linger. 

The people I met. They were all different, some shook my hand and passed me by and others made me a part of their story and I did too. A note, a page and sometimes, even a chapter. From a name to a friend and sometimes more. From a handshake to intertwined fingers to a warm hug which made all the difference. Many have crossed and many have walked my path with me.

The shopkeeper would know which chocolate I always took and keep it ready when he saw me entering. Every morning I would walk to the stand and the autowallah would go into his auto waiting for me to sit inside. My tiffin uncle, a cheerful sardar, would send me kheer once a week and call asking, how it was. The guy at Patios always gave me a familiar smile and served my strawberry creme at a super fast speed. The uncle at Pune Bakery always gave me change and served me their ‘ Pune ka world famous’ puff with the biggest smile I have ever seen. 

It was such charming and unexpected relationships that added a magical touch to the year gone by and it is only now when I am looking back that I realize all this. 

I have many people to thank. Some taught me lessons, some taught me life and some made me laugh, sing and leap. They have been wonderful and always a ‘ One paisa per second’ phone call away. 

All this, more and myself gave me something to wake up for each morning and get out there, climb that extra step and walk that extra mile.

Here’s to a wonderful, eventful and a completely unforgettable year. And something tells me the next one is going to be even better :)

Love.



Love is when your hands intertwine
Your eyes speak
Your hearts shimmer in unison and your souls touch.
It is purer than purity itself.

Thinking and Thought.

I write with nothing to write about.

The air is still, the sounds are inaudible, my body is here, my mind wandering to a place I do not know. Every mountain has an ascent, peak and a descent. For some the last leg of the journey is one more relief than satisfaction. The job is done, now time to go home and sleep. For some, the ascent gives them a high, stepping on stones and falling till the right one and the right way is found. Learning is more from falling than anything else. Thats easier said that done because for each person his fall is something only he can understand, comprehend and if possible arise from. 

We all are moving to the peak or from it. Young ambitious dreams and old men whose days are soon numbered. The peak is just a temporary transition, the path is movement and progress in parts, while the mountain is life.

The race is not about who reaches the peak first, it is about who reaches the peak along with himself and passes by it with acceptance and not with arrogance. 

I often thought life was similar to watching shows on a television set. Different times, different channels, different performances and different shows. Its all different and yet its still in the same box. Its all changing even before you know it and yet its still in the same box. Sometimes it feels as if life is like living a dream, or at times a nightmare. It often happens, you feel as if you’re standing still and the world around you is moving and even though in control you are unable to do a thing.

The past also feels like a dream, nostalgia itself is an illusion. It was there and maybe it still is and hopefully it will still be. When you look back, they were things you thought you would never forget, experiences you thought you would never move on from and falls you could never arise from. Today, they are just specs in the dust. A handful of stories and a few images are all that remain of fond memories as well.

We are moving with ourselves as well as moving with the times.

He was my friend

is he still?

That was home,

is it still?

I will never forget,

Do you still remember?

Yes and No.

Life and Living.

Hellos and Goodbyes.

Moving and Running.

Stopping and Staring


Thank You